It read: “Full-time slave wanted by genuine Master. No joke. No turning back. Hawk.”
You see I had tried meeting guys, who would tie me up and take advantage of me, but it always ended, and I wanted it to continue—forever. This was a passion that never left me and only grew stronger as I entered my 20’s. Sure I was a high school quarterback and a pretty good gymnast, but the desire to be captured, held prisoner and have no ability to escape never left me. It had been in my thoughts ever since I was 14, and had only grown stronger until…
The ad stared at me for a long time. Was this guy serious? Lots of guys had ads like this but they never followed through. Could Hawk be real? I had to find out so I wrote back to him to find out.
“Sir: I am willing to be your slave. Can we meet? Richard.” I hesitated to hit the send button, but everything in me said, DO IT! So I did.
Now all I had to do was wait. There was no response for three days and I figured Hawk was just another loser and went online one last time to see if he responded. Unbelievably, there is was, flashing in the blue light of my bedroom in the dark.
“Richard: If you are serious you will have to sever all your relationships within 30 days, quit any job you have, tell everyone that you’re going away to write a novel and need to be alone for the next few years. On October 1st you will be picked up and taken away for full-time slavery. You will be kept in chains and rope, gagged frequently, made to do chores long hours every day at my ranch while in chains, punished for any infractions, fed, clothed, housed, for as long as I want. You will sign a contract agreeing to be my slave. Send me your address, clothing size, a full photo of yourself, and you will next hear from me by mail. Serious. Hawk”
This guy can’t be serious? He wants me to submit to be his slave without ever meeting in person? I won’t even know what he looks like and he expects me to give up everything? This has got to be crazy, I thought. No way I’m going to agree to this.
I read and re-read Hawk’s demands over and over and the more I did the more I desired to go along with this. Think about it: no more daily grind at my retail job at Abercrombie & Fitch, no more dead-end friends partying, getting drunk or drugged. No more rent to pay, no more girls to pretend I was straight, no more pussy boys pretending to be doms, who were only weekend Leatherman.
“Sir: Here’s my picture; hope you approve. I would appreciate it if you sent me one of yourself. My measurements are: 6 feet tall, 185 lbs, I wear large size shirts and have a 30 inch waist with a 32 inch inseam.” I included my address and ended with: “I agree to be your full-time slave to do anything you want with me, except extreme violence or murder. Send me anything you want to complete our agreement—Richard.”
Hawk did not respond to my e-mail but I received a parcel by UPS within three days, delivered to my apartment. There was no return address, as I suspected there would not be. I walked it up the stairs and placed it on my kitchen table and started at it in amazement. It was really happening I thought! I sliced the box open with a box cutter, and opened the clear plastic bag inside, pulled out a gray sweatshirt and gray sweatpants that had the name Hollister printed down the leg. And a pair of blue Nike sneaks. There was more, an athletic cup and a device I didn’t expect, a chastity device, a CB6000, no key, and a letter which acted as a contract. I was to put the CB6000 on now, and not wait for October 1st.
I was to wear everything in the box and bring no other clothes, or any toiletries, as well as the signed and notarized contract on October 1st, on River Street. I had 26 days to do everything else. This was crazy, I realized, as I tried on the sweats and realized the size was too small—a medium, which fit but kind of tight. But I guess that’s what he wanted.
I pulled down the sweats and jock strap and examined the CB6000. It was shaped like a cockhead but only about 3 inches long. After reading the instructions, which must have been written by a Chinese person, I finally figured my size using the different rings. Some fell off and others were way too tight. It said to lubricate the sleeve and my cock, which I did. When I finally figured it all out I could see the lock included. I picked up the lock and inserted it into the holes, noticing my cock was engorged and that I would not be able to remove this contraption for almost the next month, and who knows how long after that. I hadn’t expected this but then, being someone’s slave meant God knows what. I would have to trust Hawk once he had me, so, what the Hell I thought, and closed the lock, securing my cock in his chastity device. I was committed now, and my cock started to engorge its confines. I closed my eyes and went into a reverie rubbing my new plastic covered cock and falling asleep. I slept really well that night until I got a hard-on in the middle of the night. Ouch!
The Next Morning—
That thing, the CB6000, had me awake quite a bit during the night, whenever I had a hard-on or turned over and felt the plastic ring around my “crown jewels” constricting my ball sac or cock. I knew I had to go to work at Abercrombie’s but felt like jerking off—but couldn’t. I already felt like hawk’s prisoner, at least in my crotch, and realized more powerfully what a slave’s life might be like—no freedom of my own. I pulled on the lock and lubricated my cock through the small slits, and felt it grow to the full size within its hard plastic confines.
Damn! There is no way to cum in one of these and I didn’t have a key to remove it—Hawk did. I examined the lock carefully and could see it was probably not a regulation CB6000 lock, because there were no identifying marks on it. Even if I went to a locksmith I doubted I would find a key to match it. I went on my computer and checked different locks and couldn’t find it. Double damn that Hawk—he really wanted me confined for the next four weeks, and who knows how long after that, when he picked me up.
Then I noticed Hawk had sent me a message on Craigslist.
“Hey boi,” it read, “how was your night’s sleep with that CB6000? Think you’ll be able to last until October 1st without cumming? Here are my instructions for today:
1. You must give notice you are quitting any job you have;
2. Inform your landlord or family that you’ll be leaving at the end of this month;
3. Begin the process of getting rid of your possessions;
4. Let your friends and relatives know about your plans for the novel you are writing;
5. Begin writing your thoughts and feelings about your impending slavery, which I may allow you to continue after we meet, and send me a copy of your writing every day, keeping in mind the proper respect a slave must show to his Master at all times, in short complete subservience.
Finally, get dressed in those sweats and stand on the sidewalk outside your place and have a friend take a picture of you, head down. And send this to me. Got it? --Hawk”
Whoa, I thought, inhaling deeply. This guy is serious and I immediately felt the rush of thoughts about what I was getting into—possibly abject slavery—and I would be agreeing to it by notarized contract no less. Would that hold up in any Court I wondered? It would certainly make me a willing 23 year old participant in any activity Hawk had in mind.
I took a hot shower and cleaned up, especially my cock, which I really couldn’t touch directly now. I relubricated inside the tube, added an elastic band around the lock, since it jingled every time I walked, and headed off to my job.
I alternated feeling thrilled, ecstatic, nervous, and apprehensive for the rest of the day. I was almost in a trance at work. I asked for my last vacation days and told my boss I was leaving, giving 14 days notice—so basically quitting almost immediately. That felt good, but I wondered what kind of work I would be doing on Hawk’s ranch? He said I would be in chains, which could be a real pain, but that’s the life of a slave, right? I told myself.
I called my best friend Brian, who was a hairdresser, to come over after work to give me that haircut demanded by Hawk, and to take that picture.
I let my family and landlord know of my plans, which took over an hour on my iPhone. I still had to let my friends know, but figured I could wait to near the end of the month, unless Hawk objected.
It looked less and less like I would be turning back. What an adventure, I thought, or what am I getting myself into? I immediately sent a copy of this to Hawk for his consideration.
That Night—
Brian showed up at around 4:30 and I showed him the picture Hawk had sent me and asked him for that haircut. If you could see both of us in person we almost look like twins, with blonde undercut styles, real out of fashion, but I don’t care. This haircut will be almost as constricted and major as what lurked in the jockstrap.
“Hey Rich, how’s it hanging?” Brian chimed in giving me his classic fist bump and stepping into my rented room behind my landlady’s house. “You said you needed a haircut, what did you have in mind?”
I handed him a Budweiser and the picture from Hawk, and he took a big gulp and exclaimed: ‘Whoa! This is quite a change for you. You’ve been wearing that undercut style almost as long as I have.”
I informed him of Hawk’s plans but lied, and said I was going off to my uncle’s cabin for a while to write ‘the great American novel,’ and would not be around any barber for a while. He seemed shocked but also understanding. You see we’ve known each other since small kid days and he and I even fooled around once in a while too—youthful experimentation. Brian was a vanilla gay guy though, so I never told him about my BDSM exploits. THAT would really shock him, I thought.
“So, Rich,” Brian asked as my blonde locks fell all over the sheet he placed around my neck, “what’s the novel going to be about?”
“I’m not entirely sure right now but it will take place in slavery days in ancient Rome most likely,” I lied.
“You mean slaves like with chains and collars and beatings and torture?” he asked.
“Yes, lots of slaves all trussed up, kidnapped, put into servitude and beholden to their masters,” I said gulping my beer too.
(Me before the haircut)
“Wow, Rich, have you ever had a desire to do stuff like that? I know we used to play tie up games as kids but that sounds severe!”
He was blow-drying my hair now, getting rid of the loose hairs. I looked in the mirror and smiled at my almost bald head.
“Nice job, Brian. I like it!” avoiding his question as the beer buzz started to take hold. “Now, could you do me another favor and take some pictures for me?” I asked, rising and removing my Abercrombie t-shirt and pulling on the sweats and Nikes.
“Sure, where’s your iPhone?” I handed it to him and asked him to step out front and go to the sidewalk, where he took a number of shots. In one or two of them I had my head held down as Hawk requested, so I could send that to him.
We returned to my apartment-room, had another beer each and then I decided to ask him a question. “Brian, how would you like to live here instead of at your parent’s house? You could pay the rent and take care of stuff for me?” I knew this wasn’t what Hawk had asked me to do but felt it was only within reason and that way I wouldn’t be giving my stuff to just anyone but to my best friend.
“Sure,” he replied, “I’d love to get away from under my parent’s thumbs and rules. I’ll gladly do it for you, ole buddy.”
I immediately called my landlady and asked her if that arrangement would be ok, and she said yes, as she and Brian were friends. He was, you see, her hairdresser too.
Eventually, Brian had to leave. I thanked him profusely, and then I sent a copy of this to Hawk too. I wondered how he would react. The response did not take long.
Later That Night—
Hawk responded within a few hours. I had fallen asleep and awoke to see his message. It read:
“Boi: Thank you for following most of my instructions to a ‘T’. However, by having your friend keep your ‘stuff’ you have created an infraction, which I will have to deal with once you accept your impending servitude. Hopefully, you understand why I am insisting on following my instructions carefully.
When you do ‘dispose’ your ‘stuff’ make sure it includes all of your personal possessions, as after you submit, voluntarily to your servitude you will no longer be called ‘Richard’ but whatever I choose to call you. You have a lot to learn and I am willing to teach you those lessons. Confirm you are in agreement and respond ASAP.--Hawk”
What a prick, I thought. I don’t even know what this guy looks like, how old he is, what the circumstances will be on my slavery and he’s bossing me around already, let alone keeping my cock all bound up already! The ache is my groin had only grown worse, and the plastic ring was beginning to chafe considerably. I applied some Vaseline to it and then some baby powder and it helped—a little.
I began clearing out my stuff that night, and boxed up most of my books, including one my mom gave me years ago that I never finished, called “A New Earth” by some dude named Eckhart Tolle. I guess I was feeling the need to clear my head, which was now getting confused by all of my recent decisions.
It sounded like a bunch of New Age gibberish until I skipped over to the part where he describes the ego. That interested me, and I got to this: “Whenever you are in a negative state, there is something in you that wants the negativity, that perceives it as pleasurable, or that it will get you what you want….[then] you are becoming aware of the ego directly. The moment this happens, your identity has shifted from ego to awareness. This means the ego is shrinking and awareness is growing.”
Could that be what I have been doing for a long time now? I had to give this some consideration and fell asleep doing so, without responding to Hawk. I slept soundly even with that damned CB6000!
Next Morning—
Woke up feeling very good—my head was not confused and my hard-on inside the CB6000 pushed me to attempt ejaculation. I added more Astro Glide into the openings and began rubbing my cock inside its plastic cage, finally cumming after a few minutes of torment, but without the usual pleasurable sensations when your cock is free. Oh well, it was a relief anyway.
Took a hot shower and ate breakfast and pulled out Hawk’s contract of slavery, and read it over again carefully. (See below for a copy) ________________________________________
I, the slave number One’ hereinafter referred to as "slave", submit, of my own free will, to MASTER HAWK, hereinafter referred to as "MASTER", and agree to the following terms and conditions as stated in this Contract of Slavery.
Article I
I am a slave and the owned property of my MASTER.
Article II
I agree to complete and instant obedience of any command from my MASTER.
Article III
I agree to be trained in any manner my MASTER wishes.
Article IV
I agree NOT to be used sexually until my MASTER and His slave reach a conceptual agreement.
Article V
I agree and will submit to any discipline or punishment my MASTER sees fit.
This might include, but is not limited to:
Punishment strokes, delivered in any manner my MASTER chooses; Prolonged bondage or gagging in any manner my MASTER chooses; Being forced to sleep on the floor, in chains or bondage as my MASTER sees fit; Confinement in a cage, cell or locked box; Deprivation of food or sleep; Assignment and completion of punishment tasks; Humiliation.
Article VI
I agree to put on, wear, or take off any article of clothing or instrument of bondage, at any time, at the command of my MASTER.
Article VII
I agree to be marked (using a temporary means of marking) or shaved in whatever manner and at whatever time my MASTER sees fit.
Article VIII
I agree to conform to the following behavioral specifications:
I will not sit, lie on or use the furniture without the expressed permission of the MASTER.
I will not go to the bathroom without permission from my MASTER.
I will keep myself scrupulously clean at all times.
I will not get into or out of bed without my MASTER’s permission.
I will not eat or drink without the permission of my MASTER.
I shall never embarrass my MASTER in any way.
I will not engage in malicious gossip or use insulting or demeaning language towards others.
My manner and tone will be that of a slave at all times and will reflect deference to my MASTER at all times.
I will not act defensively when questioned by my MASTER.
I will never interrupt my MASTER, or others when speaking.
I will lose weight or be developed by working out to suit my MASTER.
I will not engage in sex, intimate touching, or engage in any scene without the expressed permission of my MASTER.
I will always serve the MASTER in a kneeling position, eyes downward, and holding the position until released by my MASTER.
I will tell the truth at all times.
I will inform my MASTER promptly if I break any of my MASTER’s rules.
The slave agrees to these articles provided the MASTER does not expose the slave to:
- Hazards that endanger the slave's life, like the HIV/AIDS and other sexually transmitted diseases. - Legal repercussions
- Of His own free will, without reservation and does so under no coercion, threat or bribe.
I understand that as a slave I have no rights of revocation and that disobedience in any form will result in painful, mental and physical punishment. I, further, release the "MASTER" from any past, present, or future liability in connection with or as a result of this agreement.
I, therefore agree to, by the affixation of my signature, this Contract of Slavery and freely give myself to the "MASTER".
------------------------------------- -----------------
signature of slave # 336816 / Date
Notary Public below
Even with whatever I understood of Tolle’s book, the urge to go through with this slavery had only increased. I decided to take the “Contract” to a Notary and get it signed that morning, which I did.
When I got back I wrote the above to Hawk and told him I was willing to accept any punishment he wanted to give me for not following his instructions precisely. Now the only thing I really wanted to do was find out more about this mysterious stranger who had taken over my life so completely. I asked him to send me his picture and tell me more about himself and what he expected from me.
It was not long before Hawk responded.
September 8, 2014—
“Boi,” Hawk wrote, “You are doing very well for a beginner in slavery. I recommend against any more ‘playing’ with yourself until we are together on October first. That is a second infraction on your part to my instructions as your Master. You will be dealt with for that!
“Continue getting rid of your possessions and also I must add a new demand: that you send me a picture of your friend Brian and give me his address too. When you are with me I will need to have this in case of an emergency.
“Also, you asked for a picture of myself and more description. I am 35 years old, six feet tall, 200 lbs., and in excellent shape, as you will be also once you are at my farm. I enclose a picture of myself, in leathers.
“I await your prompt response along with a copy of the Contract you had notarized today.—Hawk”
September 9, 2014—
After getting Hawk’s last message I immediately contacted Brian to discuss all of this with him. He came over last night and I decided to be completely honest with him, since Hawk now seemed to want to get him involved in my plans.
“Wow Rich,” Brian exclaimed after reading my journal entries so far (see above), “I never knew you were so serious about bondage and stuff. I know we fooled around as kids but….” His voice trailed off.
“Yeah,” I said, “as you can see I am serious,” showing him the signed contract that I had already sent a copy of to Hawk, and pulling down my sweatpants revealing the CB6000 still locked securely around my cock and balls. “But I don’t know about getting you involved since I am not sure where all of this will lead,” grabbing his hands as I said this. “You know you are my best friend and I wouldn’t want you getting hurt.”
“I appreciate that Rich, but this is an awful lot to take in,” Brian sighed’ grabbing the CB6000 and fondling it gently by tugging on the lock. “What if this guy is some sadistic maniac, you’ll maybe never get out of this alive. And I can’t allow that to happen!”
We sat there in silence for quite some time, and my cock started to swell in its cage. Brian broke the silence, saying, “What if I followed you when he picks you up? I could make sure you’re ok and if not tell the Police where you are?”
“That sounds like a good idea, for my safety, but you might be putting yourself in jeopardy. I pondered what to do now. A few long moments went by when Brian exclaimed, wide-eyed:
“What if we got one of those tracking devices and had it implanted in you so we could know where you are at all times, like they have with dogs, you know?”
“Woof, woof,” I joked, half-seriously. Brian was always the practical one in our friendship and I loved him for that. “So where would I go for this to the vets?” laughing.
“Sure,” he replied, “or we could research it since you have a while before your kidnapping deadline,” he said sternly.
“And what,” I added, “about sending him your picture? How do you feel about that, especially since he will know you are moving into my apartment now and could ‘visit’ you at any time?”
“I guess that’s a risk I will have to take,” Brian replied, “but I think we need to figure out some other precautions in the meantime. Let me sleep on it, ok?” I noticed Brian had a distinct bulge developing in his shorts, so I invited him to stay the night.
“At least one of us may cum tonight,” Brian smiled, as we pulled the covers over our now naked bodies. He woke me up during the night and said, with absolute certainty, “Send your master a picture of me, maybe an old one with a different hairstyle.”
This is all I sent to Hawk, not any of the above conversation with Brian.
“Master: Here is a recent picture of my friend Brian. As you already know he is moving into my place so the address will be the same. Hope you approve and that my friend will not be involved in anything dangerous, ok?—Richard”
September 10, 2014—
Brian awoke early the next morning and immediately began researching human implantable tracking devices. Unfortunately, all of the ones tried so far had caused cancer in lab animals. So he located a watch device that could act as a tracking device. It is called the “GPS Watch Tracker PT05, a specially designed personal locator for kids, elders, pets, and assets safety. With latest GPS SIRF-Star III chipset, it can work well even in remote areas for accurate location and security. And its watch like appearance is very attractive and useful.” That sounded like a good possibility so we ordered one immediately, with expedited shipping.
Over breakfast, Brian became even more inquisitive about my plans for slavery. “Rich, exactly what is it about being a slave that you find so attractive, especially a permanent one like this?” he asked seriously, his blue eyes flashing.
“You know,” I replied, “that old saying: ‘Stop the world, I want to get off!’ Well, that’s how I have felt now for almost ten years. I don’t expect you will ever truly understand. I’m not even sure if I do rationally,” I said eyes looking down.
“Well Rich, why don’t you do to me what you want done to yourself, at least once. Maybe I could get a better understanding then,” Brian said innocently. “You could tie me up, rough me up, gag me even, and maybe I could see your point of view.”
I hadn’t expected this from Brian. He was such a sweet guy, so vanilla, that I was afraid to even consider such a move—until now, at his suggestion. “Well Brian, I do have a pretty nice rope collection, as well as some gags and stuff that I have used on myself and that I’ve let other guys use on me. If you’re sure you want to try, I’m willing.
Brian’s eyes got that mischievous look, and he replied, “No time like the present. I don’t have to work today so let me be your slave for sure! Have your way with me, I trust you Rich.”
“You asked for it, Boi,” I commanded, pushing him down on the floor and grabbing my bag of “toys.” I grabbed a 20 foot length of clothesline and quickly wound this around his hands behind his back, pulling tightly with each wrap, then cinching his wrists before knotting it off four times.
“Kinda tight,” Brian said meekly, “but I think I can manage.”
“Shut up Boi,” I commanded, instantly getting into a butch top role. I grabbed a roll of Gorilla tape and sat on Brian’s back. “Enough out of that pouty mouth of yours,” I said, winding the tape across Brian’s lips, and around his head and neck a full eight times. His eyes bulged at this and he started shouting obscenities at me.
“MMMPPPHHH, UUURRRHH, AAARRGGGHHH!” he yelled as I grabbed more rope and bound his ankles together, cinching this with more knots. Brian began trashing around trying to get loose so I finished him off by hogtying his ankles to his hands, making a tight bow package out of his flexible body.
“You asked for it!” I beamed as I rolled him onto his side, instantly finding telltale signs that Brian was really enjoying himself. He was at full erection, so I slid his cock out of his skintight jeans, causing it to spring to attention. “Looks like my little slave boi wants to cum,” I chided him. “Too bad. Maybe you need one of these chastity devices too,” I laughed.
I wondered how long I could keep Brian tied up this way. I figured as long as he was rock hard it should be no problem, so I took more rope and wound this between his biceps, pulling them very close and cinching these ropes up tight, making his elbows almost touch.
“FFFUUUFFFHHH RRRUUU!” he shouted.
Later that morning—
Brian’s veins in his arms were beginning to pop out, and his apparent pleasure at being tied up seemed to ebb, as his hard-on disappeared. His moans and mmppphh’s increased, and since we had not agreed to a safe word, I figured he had had enough. I quickly unwound the duct tape from his head and mouth, with the last part really annoying him.
“FUUUUCCCCKKKK!” he screamed, as the last end came off. “What were you doing, trying to kill me?” he muttered. “Please untie me, now.”
I did, and apologized profusely to my old friend. But remember, he did ask for this. The ropes securing his feet to his hands fell away and I undid the tight elbow tie also. All that remained were the ropes around his wrists and ankles. He breathed more easily almost immediately. I started stroking his groin, to see if he was still ok down under and, to both of our surprise, he started to swell again.
“So Brian, what’s going on here?” I quizzed him, as his cock grew in tumulsence.
“Well, Rich, you are stroking my dick, what did you expect?”
‘I figured you wanted out and didn’t like what I was doing, but this….” I grabbed his rod more tightly, “is telling me otherwise. So….do you want to cum?” Brian nodded yes, so I grabbed the duct tape and tore off a few pieces and reapplied these across those sweet lips, and finished him off. He bucked and moaned and squirmed violently, but his orgasm told me he was really enjoying this, as his sperm went flying up onto his chest.
I pulled the duct tape off, gently, from his lips, and kissed him passionately as his cock pulsed in my right hand. “Everything ok, Brian?”
Brian smiled broadly and seemed to be in a reverie. I gradually removed the remaining ropes from his feet and hands and wiped the cum off his black t-shirt. He fell asleep in my arms.
September 13, 2014—
After, Brian and I had a serious discussion of what he felt regarding being my slave, even if it was for only an hour.
“Rich, it started out fine until you did two or three things: 1. You tied my elbows together way too tight. My circulation stopped and my hands went numb; 2. That gag—why did you have to wrap that fuckin’ tape around my mouth so many times? I’m still seeing traces of it on my face, even after I showered, and 3. The hogtie—I guess they can feel good but my fingers were touching my feet and my back was arching too—it was all too much, at least it was until you undid those things and made it lots more erotic.
“I doubt,” he added, “I would ever allow anyone to do that to me again, especially if they were a complete stranger as Hawk is to you. Do you see what I mean?” Brian’s eyes showed immense concern for me.
I couldn’t maintain my gaze with him, so I looked down at my chastity cage, which was becoming more sore by the day. “Sorry,” I said, “but you did ask me to do to you what I fully expect from Hawk. Maybe….” I paused for a long time, “maybe I should get more info from Hawk as to what he intends to do to me, and what he wants me to do to him. Would that make you feel better?”
Brian held my hands and stroked my CB6000, with my pulsing cock raging inside it. “Yes, it would, and you know I only have your best wishes in all this Rich, you know I do.”
“OK, then, I’ll write to Hawk and see if he’ll be more explicit. I still have almost 18 days anyway, right?”
Brian began to rise and get dressed. “Yup, you do. Unless,” he added ominously, “Hawk should decide to ‘meet’ you before that. He does, after all, know what you look like and where you live. Who knows what he’s capable of?” as he walked toward the door.
“I’ll check back with you later. I’m gonna go and get some nail polish remover to get this duct tape off my face,” Brian shot back at me.
“Hey guy,” I yelled at him as he walked out the door, “I said I was sorry!” He smiled, that broad smile only he could give me. The guy was a great friend, one who I now fully realized I would miss all the more after the end of the month. I immediately fired off a message to Hawk:
“Sir: I realize we have an agreement with me to be your full-time slave. That is to include bondage in rope and chains, gags, punishment and whatever you wish short of extreme torment and whipping. I fully agree to this as it is my fondest wish.
“Please send me more details as to what you have in mind on a daily basis. Photos would be fine, in fact, probably more than enough. I realize this may be a burden to you but please understand it is just for my peace of mind.
Your slave,
Richard”
Hawk responded within hours with what follows:
Hey Dick: Please keep in mind that you are not my only concern every day. I understand you have some worries and, to that extent only, here are some pictures of just a little of what you can expect. These are all from the internet anyway, but they demonstrate how your daily life may be in a few weeks. Hope nothing here turns you off too much. You have to understand I expect to expand your limits greatly, in ways both mental and physical. To that end I advise you to work out as much as possible in the meantime.
September 14, 2014—
My plans were unfolding almost as if in a dream now. I almost felt like I’d been hypnotized. I now had maybe 16 days left to complete my new master Hawk’s instructions and had already made two infractions so I did not want to make any more. I was running out of some groceries, and also knew I wouldn’t need too many so I went shopping at the local supermarket, deciding to wear Hawk’s sweats doing so. I already had on his chastity cage!
Some of the other shoppers seemed turned on by my outfit, or maybe by my new military style buzz cut, who knows? It inflated my ego to think so, at least. I was aimlessly cruising the vegetable aisle when I ran into the shopping cart of a beefy guy in a leather jacket and jeans. “Whoa!” I thought, could that be….Hawk?
The guy sounded gruff and yelled, “Watch it kid!” as his cart banged mine.
“Sorry Sir!” I meekly replied.
Mr. Leather smiled a sly smirk and walked off, disappearing into the meat aisle. I considered following him to see if it was indeed Hawk, but decided not to. Besides, he seemed to vanish right after that encounter, when it dawned on me that he didn’t have anything in his cart when we collided. Very strange! I finished up my list and went back home. I sent a copy of the above to Hawk, as my daily impressions.
I didn’t tell him that I called Brian immediately after and let him know. He told me we should get together after he was off work at 4:30. He had something important he wanted to discuss. I pulled on my chastity cage and wished I could cum, but my cock was trapped.
I decided to go to 24 Hour Fitness and work out, as Hawk had commanded. I slipped a cup into Hawk’s jock strap, so no one would see my predicament. Got to the gym in 20 minutes and began my routine, adding extra reps this time and more weight. After 90 minutes I drove home, took a shower there and waited for Brian to come over.
I must have fallen asleep because I woke with a start. Someone was outside my place, rustling in the bushes!
Later that afternoon—
I awoke with a start, from a very strange dream, where I was trapped on an airport escalator going down to security. In this tense dream I realized I had the chastity cage on and that they would find out as I went through the x-ray machine, due to that damned lock.
I opened my eyes after hearing the person outside in the bushes and jumped out of bed to see who it was. As I drew the curtains apart I could see two young Hispanic males running towards the road. I bolted out my door and ran around to the front of my landlady’s house just in time to see a panel van pulling away from the street racing down the street.
“Who the Hell was that?” I thought to myself. It was still broad daylight and these guys were right outside my place. Could they have been associated with Hawk? As I stood there in my gym outfit, Brian pulled up in his Buick clunker and got out smiling. He immediately saw the frown of concern on my face.
‘What’s the matter?” he queried. I told him what had happened since I saw the leather guy at the market. He seemed very concerned and added:
“See, this is what I warned you about. You really don’t know what this guy, Hawk, has in mind for you, especially after you signed his slavery contract. I really think you need to seriously reconsider what you’re planning on doing Rich. And,” he added, “you only have two weeks more to do it!”
Just then the mailman pulled up and delivered a small package for me. I opened it with Brian by my side. It was the GPS Watch TrackerPT05 we had ordered. We decided to see how well it worked. I let Brian drive my Jeep while I used his clunker to act as the getaway car, giving myself a ten minute lead. I drove as fast as his old Buick would go, down to the ocean near Malibu and, not counting for all the traffic at that hour in Northridge, pulled off at the beach.
Twenty minutes later Brian pulled up alongside his car and found me walking the beach. He was wearing a bright blue sweatshirt and I smiled at seeing him, my potential rescuer, as he yelled:
“Gotcha!”
Sunset on the beach—
Brian and I decided to hang out at the beach until after rush hour died down somewhat. We found a Mexican restaurant overlooking the Pacific Ocean and got a nice outdoor deck table. The sun was dipping in and out of low hanging clouds causing brilliant reflections in the grey-blue waters.
Brian gulped down his first Budweiser and got right to his point. ‘I think Rich you should back out of this deal of yours as soon as possible. I’m really worried about this slave business; that you really don’t know what you’re getting into.”
I was wearing Hawk’s outfit, the sweats and Nikes, and, of course, the chastity cage and jock strap. But I did have on the tracking watch, which looked very much like a regular watch.
“I know, and I’m beginning to think maybe it isn’t such a great idea too, but…” I hesitated, “how do I stop all of this, especially since I already quit my job, gave my landlady notice, got rid of most of my personal papers, and, of course, signed and notarized Hawk’s slavery contract?”
“Well,” Brain chimed in as he polished off his beer, “why don’t you tell him you’re having second thoughts and see what he says?”
I agreed to send Hawk an e-mail after I got home and see what he said. Brian seemed very relieved and we finished up out Mexican food and a few more beers and decided to take a stroll down the beach. The sun was going down now and the colors of the sky were magnificent, turning bright red, then purple, green, yellow and fading into darkness. We found a nice private sand dune away from the Pacific Coast Highway and cuddled for a while as the stars tried vainly to shine in the smoggy Los Angeles air.
To alleviate some of Brian’s concern I gave him a blowjob. He looked so cute in that blue hoodie!
-------later that evening, after Brian had left, I e-mailed Hawk again:
“Sir: Please understand that I am still very interested and excited by your offer to be a full-time slave. I have, however, realized a few things that I must clear up before we proceed further. First, I need to add another paragraph to the Contract that gives me the right to back out of the Contract at any time I want. Second, we need to meet in person, as soon as possible, before I can agree to be your slave. Please get back to me as soon as possible. Thank you. Richard”
It was late when I sent this to Hawk, and I fell asleep waiting for his response, but not before Brian called to say he wanted to see me again, first thing in the morning. I think he’s falling in love with me!
Turnabout is fair play—
I woke up during the night and found this message from Hawk, which sounded extremely promising.
“Richard: I understand your continued concerns. To that end please send me a copy of your proposed changes to our Contract. I’ll review it and get back to you. And, I see what you’re saying about needing to meet. How about today? We can meet at the Taco Bell near your home at 1 pm. Get back to me when you see this. Your master, Hawk”
This came as a complete surprise to me. I thought for sure Hawk would say no to both requests. I e-mailed our exchange to Brian right after and fell asleep, only to wake up four hours later hearing a knock on my door. It was Brian, wearing his typical watch cap covering his head, and the blue hoodie.
“Hey brah, got your message,” Brian smiled. “See, I told you this could work out.”
“Yeah,” I replied, “Come on in. How about some breakfast?” I told him to make himself at home while I cleaned up and came back out to find Brian cooking up some scrambled eggs, toast and bacon, with coffee. “Wow, Brian, you’d make some guy a perfect ‘husband’ someday,” alluding to last night’s dune play.
We finished up breakfast watching some ‘toons and then Brian brought up why he was over again. “I’ve been thinking Rich. Why don’t you let me tie you up, the way you seem to want, so you can make extra certain you really want to be someone’s slave, ok? I promise not to hurt you!”
I almost laughed out loud at this, because Brian could barely tie his shoelaces, let alone tie someone up. Since I had several hours to kill I agreed to check out his tying skills, not wanting to tell him that I was something of an accomplished escape artist—one of the reasons my previous encounters had been so disappointing to me—I always got out.
‘Sure, why not? If I get out then I’ll tie you up, OK?” I smiled chiding him to do a good job.
“It’s a deal,” he said firmly, and we fist bumped on it. “How do you want to do this, with or without clothes? On the floor, the bed, a chair?”
“Well,” I said, “since Hawk may have me struggling a lot I’ll just wear my jeans, is that ok? You can tie to any way you want—surprise me!” I pulled out my bag of toys into the middle of the room and it landed with a thud. “Feel free to use anything in this bag.”
I watched as Brian began to fumble with some rope, with his eyes lighting up in amazement at my collection of ropes and gagging materials. “Wow, you are one sick dude, you know that!” he chuckled. “Get that t-shirt and those shorts off, now!” he commanded, becoming suddenly a flaming top.
“Yes Sir!” I replied, quickly striping down to my CB6000. I could feel my cock stirring in its cage.
Brian pulled my left arm behind my back and wrapped a long piece of thick cotton rope around my wrist, fumbling with the knots. “Is that too tight?” he said meekly, as he pulled my right wrist back to join my arms behind my back. He began to wrap the rope around my wrists, maybe eight to ten times, which were crossed x-fashion, making sure to cover my wrists completely, before tying another knot, then another. I could still move my wrists around in the mound of rope.
‘Feels good Brian. Maybe there’s hope for you yet!” I jested, as he alternated the direction of the rope, cinching my wrists before wrapping more rope around each of my upper wrists and forearms, and tying it off tightly. I realized he was knotting the rope beyond the reach to my fingers now. “That feels great Brian.” I could barely budge my wrists now.
He leaned over and pulled my bag closer and pulled out the roll of Gorilla tape I had used on him. ‘I think you talk too much, Rich. Turnabout is fair play, after all,” he smiled and I replied:
“You don’t have to gag me if you don’t want….” Was all I got out before he yanked the end of the roll off and thrust it between my teeth and down on my tongue, wrapping it furiously around my mouth to the back of my neck and back again, at least six times. I could see where this was going—he was getting revenge for what I did to him.
He pulled out a much longer coil of thicker rope and wrapped this around my right elbow, then lifted my bound hands up and proceeded to wrap the rope around my elbows, around my biceps another fifteen times, pulling tighter each time. I am pretty flexible so my elbows came within a foot of each other, when he then started cinching this mass of rope behind my back, in rapid fashion, almost like he had taken roping lessons
Then I remembered, he had been in the Boy Scouts as a kid. “Mmmppphhh, mmmppphhh!” I tried to complain but Brian seemed to care less. He directed me to my bed and pushed me onto it, roughly, grabbing more rope, which he now expertly bound around my helpless ankles. Five wraps, five more, and then five tight cinches, more knots and there I was bound and gagged hand and foot!
Brian wasn’t done yet though. He tied more rope around my knees, above and below, pulling my thighs into a tight embrace, with lots more heavy rope, followed by more cinching and four knots each time. But he still wasn’t finished. He fished around and pulled out the three inch leather collar I had almost forgotten I had and bucked this quickly around my neck. This forced me to keep my head forward so I could not look down.
He pulled more rope out and tied this around my ankles and pulled my helpless feet up to the rope around my elbows and tied it off, placing me in a hogtie very similar to the one I had put him in. He expertly ran the rope up and tied it off on one of the metal rings on the collar. This was getting more constricting by the minute, I thought, and I started, “mmppphhhing” more frequently now.
“What the matter, boi? Can’t take what you dish out?” he said, as he then completely surprised me, taking off his cap. Instead of the long blonde hair I was used too, I saw what appeared to be a mirror image of the haircut he had given me just a few weeks before, shorn off the sides and back, like he was my twin brother.
“Why did you do that to your hair?” I wondered.
“Like it?” he asked. "I could almost be you, huh?” with a devilish grin on his face.
No escape—
“I’ll give you a few hours to escape,” he said firmly, taking some thin rope out of the bag and proceeded to bind my arms, chest, stomach, thumbs and small fingers behind my back, making them completely useless now.
“Not bad huh, Rich? OK, now try to get out,” he smirked as he plopped down in my chair in his new military Mohawk. He was eyeing me intently, seeing if any of his ropes were coming loose or not. They weren’t.
“Damn!” he’s too good at this, I thought. I tried anyway, rolling around from side to side, even on my back, but I was a bondage victim now, pure and simple. In my heart I knew he would have to release me for sure.
Then he really surprised me. He pulled out a pair of industrial size needle nose pliers from his bag, and proceeded to open my zipper, and pull out the CB6000, which by now was leaking pre-cum into my jeans. He grabbed the chastity lock and with one heavy “snap”, broke the lock off the CB6000, carefully releasing my captive cock from its cage in the first time in several weeks.
Brian started fondling my cock, using Astro Glide on his right hand. Slowly, it returned to its full erect potential and I begged him to continue. But he just stopped. “I’ve seen some of your edging videos Rich. I have all morning ya know?” He sat back down and pulled out my laptop and began reading something. He even typed a message. I could only wonder what he was up too.
I soon found out as it was now close to noontime. Brian stripped out of his hoodie, jeans and sneaks, wearing only his t-shirt and briefs, pushing the t-shirt up and the briefs down, like he was putting on a show for me.
“Mmmppphhh, mmpphhh!” I moaned.
He grabbed the CB6000, after examining its construction for a few minutes, and also checked the other rings. He sat in my chair and tried on the various rings until he found the size for himself that he liked and fiddled with the prongs and then lubed up the cock sleeve as well as his semi-erect cock. The sleeve wouldn’t go down his shaft so he took it off, and then did something that surprised me. He slapped his cock—hard—several times, making it go limp finally, when he thrust the hard plastic cock sleeve over his limp dick, securing it in place. He reached into his bag and produced another lock, very similar to the one I had on. “Click” and now Brian was a chastity slave.
Then he grabbed Hawk’s sweatshirt and sweatpants and slowly pulled them on over his t-shirt, and Hawk’s jock strap. He even put the blue Nikes on. Then, he went over to my dresser and put the GPS watch on his left wrist.
“Rich,” he said to me in amazement, “you should know I was never going to let you be someone’s slave for life—that was never in the cards. So, I’m gonna meet your ‘friend’ Hawk and convince him to stop pursuing you; to let you go; that you have no intention of going through with this nonsense.
‘I figured he wouldn’t want to talk to me so I’m gonna be you for lunch. Sorry I had to do this to you, but if you’re good at it, maybe you’ll be out by the time I get back. Good luck Houdini! Yeah, I know, you think you’re an escape artist. Well, make my day!”
I watched in absolute incomprehensible terror. My best friend pretending to be me, going to negotiate with my kidnapper. What could possibly go wrong with this cockamamie idea, I thought, screaming into Brian’s unrelenting tape gag.
“Mmmmppphhh, uurrgghhh, mmmnnnnooo!”
Taco Bell—
Brian’s plan was unfolding rapidly now. He had me all trussed up at my place begging for escape. The duct tape held firmly.
Brian pulled up to the Northridge Mall Taco Bell and got out of his clunker. He scanned the parking lot for any vans or other suspicious vehicles. There were none. It was almost 1 pm, so he got out and entered the Taco Bell, ordered a burrito and soft drink and sat by a window seat.
A thrill went up his spine realizing all of his own planning was now falling into place—he hoped. He ran his hand over his Mohawk-type military haircut, and smiled to himself. He actually did feel like he was me. The sweats felt tight on him too, but the main realization he was having was that he was getting a hard-on in the chastity cage. ‘Ouch!” he said out loud. “This thing’s got a mean bite to it!”
He was gazing out the window when suddenly a guy walked up behind him and touched his left shoulder, “Richard?” he said, “I recognize you by your picture.” But it wasn’t the picture of Hawk Richard had showed me. This guy looked completely different. He was Hispanic, with a baseball cap on, a white t-shirt and a puka shell necklace with a diamond earring in his left ear. He looked like a gang banger.
“Where’s Hawk? He’s supposed to meet me here,” I said, irritated. He stood over me looking stern.
“Hawk sent me to pick you up, come on,” he said, gesturing for me to follow him.
‘Whoa,” I replied. “Not so fast, our agreement was for him to meet me here.”
“All he told me was for me to drive you to his place. My name’s Miguel. I work for Hawk. Come on!”
I had to make a quick decision. I clicked on the tracking device under the table, so that my friend James could follow us. You see, I had backup too.
“Ok,” I replied. “Where are we going?”
Miguel had a faint smile on his big lips. ‘You’ll see slave boi. Now come on, get in my car. I stood up and slowly walked outside into the parking lot. Miguel walked slightly in front of me, and another guy, also Hispanic looking, stepped out of the passenger’s seat and joined us.
“This here is Juan, my “assistant,” Miguel chimed in as he and popped open the trunk.
“You wanted to be a full-time slave, right? Well, get in the trunk, now!”
I stepped into this empty trunk with Miguel and Juan basically pushing me in, and crouched down. Miguel suddenly pulled out a pair of peerless handcuffs, which he forced onto my wrists behind my back.
“Oww! That’s kinda tight!” I complained, as he double locked the cuffs.
“Shut up dickhead,” he yelled as Juan bound my legs in a pair of shortened leg irons. Miguel then pulled out a leather plug gag and said: “Open up!” forcing the dildo shaped gag between my teeth, and quickly strapping it behind my neck. Amazingly, no other customers spotted this apparent kidnapping, in broad daylight.
‘Enjoy the ride!” he grinned, slamming the trunk lid down. So there I was, looking exactly like Richard, bound and gagged in a complete stranger’s car, going God knows where. Fortunately, the GPS was working, I hoped.
I moaned for help anyway: “Mmmppphhh, mmmppphhh!”
Wild Ride—
James, Brian’s co-worker at the Salon, was already at Richard’s place watching over the bound boy, and had begun untying him from the mass of rope. Brian had called him with some wild story about a kidnap plot and how he had to save Richard.
He saved the gag and his bound hands for last. Richard did not look like a happy camper.
James pulled the layers of duct tape off Richard’s face.
“Aarrggghhhh!!!” Richard screamed, as the last layer of Gorilla tape left his lips. ‘What the fu….!”
James laughed, and said: “Hey, didn’t you ask Brian to do this to you?”
“True,” Richard said, “but I certainly didn’t want him taking my place.” Richard leaned over the GPS scanner and could see a dot traversing the Ventura Highway, headed west. “Come on,” Richard exclaimed, “there he is, there’s no time to lose!”
“But,” James replied, “I haven’t untied your wrists yet.”
“We can do that later. We can’t let them get away,” he told James, pointing with his glance to his Jeep keys on his dresser. “You drive.”
James guided Richard out to the Jeep and buckled him in with his hands still tied behind his back. He pulled out of the driveway and jumped onto the first freeway exit nearest Richard’s place. Richard kept tract of the scanner while James sped west on the freeway. He tried to explain everything that had happened so far—without getting into too many details, so James would realize how important it was to catch up to that “dot.”
He shifted uncomfortably in his seat, and also tried releasing his bound wrists from Brian’s expert tie. “What the Hell was Brian thinking?” he asked rhetorically.
James looked over at the shirtless hunk sitting bound next to him, with marks of tape still on his face, and said: “I think he was maybe just trying to save your life, huh?”
“Yeah, Brian’s quite a guy. I just hope we are in time for him.”
The scanner showed the vehicle leaving the freeway headed north through Oxnard. It looked like there was about a half-hour between the two vehicles. James stepped on the gas and was going over 80 mph. Suddenly, there were flashing lights behind him, closing in fast.
“Oh shit!” Richard yelled. “It’s the cops!”
Speeding ticket and worse--
“What should I do?” pleaded James. “Stop or try to outrun them?”
Richard looked back and could see the Chips cruiser gaining on them. He looked down at the scanner and could see they were not that far from the red ‘dot” that was his best friend Brian, who could well be in lethal danger. He hesitated. “Geez….”
James pulled over to the slow lane on the right, which must have been going 70 mph. Typical for California drivers, he thought. The cruiser pulled alongside the Jeep and he could see one of the patrolmen gesturing for them to pull over. Without waiting for Richard to respond he complied, slowing down gradually and pulling off onto the nearest exit ramp, coming to a halt just before the ramp ended, in some dry brush.
Richard squirmed uncomfortably in his seat, with his securely bound wrists behind his back. “How do you expect to explain this?” he said, pointing his bound wrists towards James. He became extremely anxious and popped a definitely obvious hard-on in his jeans. “Or this?” he said, looking down at a spot of pre-cum developing there.
James replied: “Stay cool man, maybe we can explain this situation so they help us get Brian before it’s too late.” He peered into his rearview mirrors and could see two Highway patrolmen slowly walking up to the Jeep, one on the left and one on the right. Both had on sunglasses.
James rolled down his window as the short-haired officer approached. “Can I help you, Sir?” he asked meekly.
The officer peered down his glasses and told him he was speeding and to show him his ID and papers. James reached over to the glove compartment and located the insurance and registration and handed them to the officer, who stepped back and got on his Police radio.
The other officer, a beefier guy with longer hair, reached Richard’s now open window and glanced in. “What’s going on with you boy?” he asked, noticing Richard’s bound wrists.
“We were chasing a friend who got kidnapped,” he said lamely. “That’s why we were going fast,” he added, in effect pleading guilty.
“But why are your hands tied behind your back?” the officer asked.
Richard tried to explain, but only seemed to make matters worse. “It was me who was going to be kidnapped, but my friend Brian was taken instead,” he said, realizing how stupid this sounded as the words left his mouth.
James butted in, “I didn’t have time to untie his hands,” another lame remark.
“I think you’d both better get out of the car, real nice and slow,” he replied. James unbuckled Richard and opened his door for him. He exited the left side door as the other officer came up on his left.
“What have we here?” the short haired officer asked. “What are these two up to?” pointing to Richard’s bound wrists.
“Something about a friend being kidnapped,” the officer on the right said, turning Richard around showing his securely bound wrists to the other officer. “Check out all these ropes!” he added, as Richard’s thumbs and small fingers were still bound to the ropes around his chest.
“I didn’t have time to get them off,” Richard tried to say.
“Boy,” the nearest officer to him said, as he grabbed his right arm, “I think you’d better step over here,” pulling Richard to the rear of the Jeep. The other officer advised James to put his hands up on the side of the Jeep, and pulled out a pair of handcuffs. He snapped one end quickly onto James’ left wrist and pulled it behind his back, reached up and pulled his right wrist back and snapped the cuffs tightly on, securing James on the side of the road.
James tried to interrupt, “Officer, you have to understand, our friend is being kidnapped, check out the scanner in the front seat.”
“Shut up kid!” the officer replied, “looks like you may be the one doing a kidnap here!” James hung his head in desperation.
“But…” was all James got out as he was led away and roughly placed in the back seat of the patrol car. He was seat belted and the door was slammed shut.
Meanwhile the two officers went over to Richard and examined his bound wrists. “Who did this to you, that guy back there?” pointing to James behind them.
“No Sir, it was my friend, the one who’s been kidnapped,” he said. “We were trying to save him….” The short haired officer told him to shut his mouth.
“You’re making no sense boy. Why would you be trussed up like a turkey when someone else was kidnapped? I think we’re gonna have to take you down to the station to clear all this up, as he reached for his own handcuffs and held them up to Richard.
“Is that really necessary?’ Richard asked, “I’m already tied up!”
“Regulations” he snickered, snapping a pair of rigid handcuffs over the top of the layers of rope already there. He pushed Richard to the back seat and told him to get in.
James was looking dejected and Richard said: “I’m sorry James for getting you into this mess,” as he shifted uncomfortably now in handcuffs and rope and a seat belt holding him down.
The heavier officer examined Richard more closely. “What’s this on your face, duct tape?” pointing to residue lines wrapped around his face, still fresh from his being gagged. “You into some S & M games boys?” he laughed.
Because” he added, “you know we can oblige you more…” as he reached under the passenger’s seat and pulled out a four inch wide roll of tape. He began pulling a long, wide strip off and held this up to Richard’s now wide-eyed face.
“What the Hell are you….” Was all he got out when the officer leaned over and wrapped the tape onto his left cheek and swiftly wrapped it around his face and neck, three times. “Mmmppphh, Mmmppphh!!!” Richard screamed.
The officer threw the tape over to his partner, who began the same process with James.
“You can’t do this,” James pleaded, “it’s against the law!” as suddenly his mouth was silenced just as effectively as Richard now mumbling mouth was. “Mmmppphh, nnoooommmmppphh!!”
“Shut up kid, if you know what’s good for you!” the officer laughed. He reached under the driver’s seat and pulled out a pair of leg irons and snapped one cuff onto each of Richard and James’ ankles. “That should keep you guys under control, as the two doors were slammed shut. The officers laughed and compared notes out of listening range of the two bound boys. James had a look of desperation and terror in his eyes.
Richard did too, but for a different reason. He had read his officer’s name tag. It read: “Sgt. I. M. Hawk.” He sank into his seat and struggled hopelessly against his bonds, with a tear rolling down his cheek.
Low Rider--
Brian shifted uncomfortably inside the trunk of of Miguel’s ’88 Olds Cutlass Supreme. He was sweating profusely, still locked in handcuffs and leg irons and wearing Richard’s slave sweats. The thick leather penis gag strapped around his mouth certainly didn’t help his breathing either.
He could hear occasional remarks between Miguel and his cohort, Juan from the front seat, but mostly they were drowned out by blaring Mexican rap music. And another thing became apparent: the two guys were smoking up a storm of marijuana, because it was wafting heavily inside the trunk. Brian was clearly getting a contact high and he realized he had to think straight before he too was stoned.
He decided he should remove the GPS watch, for fear it would be discovered and destroyed, preventing James and Richard from finding him—ever. With some effort he pushed the sleeve up from under the tight handcuffs and felt his way to the watch strap, releasing it. The watch fell into the darkness so Brian had to shift around before he found it and then struggled to find somewhere to hide it. After some awkward twists and turns—his leg irons were locked together with a padlock making leg movement very constricted—he pulled up a corner of the carpet and tucked the watch inside, before smoothing it back as best he could.
It was then that Brian noticed something else—there were air holes drilled into the trunk through which he could see some daylight. He tried looking through some of the holes but they were very small. The rough road jostled him around, making any viewing even more difficult.
He continued exploring the trunk, looking for a latch to open it, and then he came upon something unusual, a couple of corks plugged into much larger holes in the trunk lid. He grabbed at one of them and pulled hard, breaking a fingernail in the process. It wasn’t budging much until; finally, it came out.
Brian shifted around and peered through the hole and could see they were now driving on a two-lane country road, winding through sparsely populated areas. There was a car fairly close behind them so Brian tried sticking his handcuffed right wrist up to the hole and wiggling two fingers through the hole. He hoped against hope that someone—anyone—would notice and realize there was a live (for now!) human being inside the trunk.
After about 15 minutes of this he grew weary, and just then the car swerved off the road, onto a much rougher dirt path, causing him to have to remove his fingers, and quickly replug the hole. He figured they were near their destination.
He was right. The engine shut off and the trunk lid flew open, streaming blinding sunlight into his eyes. Miguel and Juan were standing just outside, laughing in their stoned state, grabbing his bound body and pulling Brian slowly out of the trunk. He knew he would be meeting Hawk soon, and here he was stoned himself!
The Nightmare Begins--
Miguel stared at Brian with a broad smile. “Soon, you will be meeting with your new Master. I think you will be pleasantly surprised by what’s gonna to happen to you now,” he said slyly in his Spanish accent. Juan laughed and coughed, probably from too much reefer. He was still holding a joint as they steadied Brian on his feet.
Juan leaned down and unlocked the padlock shortening Brian’s now painfully tight leg irons. At least he could spread his feet apart somewhat now, which became a forced march into a house in a deserted section of rolling hills and dry countryside. Brian shuffled as best as he could, wincing in pain as his ankles were pressed by hard metal cuffs. “Come on slave, meet your new dungeon!” Juan blurted as he and Miguel lifted Brian, now ‘mmmppphhhing” more into his thick gag, into the ramshackled house.
As they entered the kitchen, Juan removed Brian’s gag, just long enough to give him a bottle of Gatorade to drink. “Don’t say anything, or the gag goes right back in,” he said sternly. Brian gulped down the blue liquid in obvious relief.
“But, you can’t do this to….” Brian blurted out. Juan quickly grabbed Brian’s Mohawk and pulled his head back. He shoved the thick leather penis gag back into his mouth and tightened even more severely.
“Told you to keep your mouth shut, boi!” Juan laughed.
They walked past another Hispanic guy, Jose, in a yellow Under Armour long sleeved mock turtleneck, who was sitting on a leather couch, and he seemed uninterested in Brian’s plight, like he had seen all of this before. They introduce me as to the “new slave,” and he went back to watching Judge Judy—in Spanish!
Brian tried to struggle but all that got him was a swift punch in the gut. He screamed and bent over in pain, as he was brought to a cellar staircase, behind a heavy wooden door and made to walk down into a well lit dungeon, with daylight steaming in from high windows.
“Hawk said to make you ‘comfortable, so let’s prepare you to meet him,” Miguel taunted Brian, as he shoved him further into the gloom. Juan and Miguel pushed Brian into a dank corner of the cellar. Brian could sense Miguel was struggling to loosen something above his head, out of his sight, when suddenly a thick hangman’s noose fell down, swinging menacingly in front of his face. Brian’s eyes went wide in fear, as Miguel slowly adjusted the thick rope loop with thirteen twists, over his head and onto his neck. He tightened the noose, and pulled on another end, causing the noose to lift up behind Brian’s left ear. Brian had to tilt his head slightly to get some comfort.
“Hawk calls this the slave’s attitude adjustment,” Juan smirked. He bent down and removed the leg irons and Brian tried to steady himself on his feet. The hangman’s noose was holding him up now, and the corner concrete blocks helped somewhat too. He forced himself to calm down, although he noticed his legs were shaking. Then Juan pulled out some hemp rope from a pile in the corner and quickly started tying Brian’s feet together, leaving about two inches between them, which he cinched with more rope. He pulled out more and tied Brian’s knees together, then his thighs, cinching these ropes too. Then, he got frisky and touched the CB6000, which held Brian’s now hard dick in chastity.
“I see you’re still wearing Hawk’s jewelry, Richard,” Juan said, fondling Brian’s cock even more. He pulled on the lock and the plastic cage, causing Brian to scream into his gag—“Uuummppphhh!”
Meanwhile Miguel smiling, was pulling more ropes out, lots and lots. He turned Brian around and began tying his wrists together, tightly, above the handcuffs, circling at least ten times around before cinching these ropes in place, finally removing the handcuffs. Brian’s hands were now in a mound of rope.
Juan began wrapping more rope around Brian’s chest and elbows, about twenty times, and then cinched these ropes at his elbows, tightly. Brian felt like he was becoming a rope mummy.
As the two young kidnappers finished tying Brian, they decided to poke him in the side, and tickle his ribs, which made Brian lose his balance more than once, leaving him off balance enough that the noose started tightening. He was almost hanging by his neck several times, only to be brought back to standing. Brian felt like he could die any minute. But then they stopped and loosened the noose, just enough so he could breath freely.
“Take it easy, Richard,” Miguel whispered in Brian’s ear, “Hawk taught us how to make any new slave adjust by creating a series of stress positions. This is one of our favorites!” he grasped the noose for emphasis. “Just make sure you stand at attention until Hawk shows up, which should be soon. Don’t go anywhere,” he added, laughing as Juan and he left the basement dungeon.
Brian almost collapsed in desperation, but realizing the noose would choke him caused him to stand at absolute attention. Every time he relaxed a little the noose would tighten.
“What have I gotten myself into,” he thought.
Ride to Santa Paula—
Hawk moved quickly now, realizing he had Richard in his back seat and that his two “assistants” have taken someone else. He told his partner, Miguel, to drive the Jeep to a deserted section down the road and he followed behind in the cruiser. They transferred their two prisoners to the back seat of the Jeep. Miguel was told to continue on his shift while Hawk would transfer the two boys to the ranch.
“I’ll take care of these two,” Hawk yelled, as his partner smiled and replied:
“I bet you will.” Miguel drove off in a cloud of dust leaving Richard and James bound and gagged in the back seat of the Jeep.
Hawk had decided to add a pair of leg irons to each boy’s feet, so that now they would not be connected anymore to each other. “There, doesn’t that feel a lot more comfortable?” he laughed, slamming the door on the deeply tinted rear window.
Richard realized all of his plans were now going up in smoke. His hands were bound securely behind his back, with rope encircling his stomach and securing his hands to his low back. And, his thumbs and small fingers were bound in tighter ropes to this mass of rope, along with rigid handcuffs on top. The gag was particularly humiliating as it covered both boys’ faces from their noses down to under their chins, making talk impossible beyond unintelligible “mmmpphhhs” to each other.
James seemed to be trying to reassure Richard, as he seemed much calmer. Richard did not know him well, other than the occasional visit to James’ father’s hair salon/travel agency, all so cutely named: “Hair Today, Gone Tomorrow.” Brian had worked there for several years and James seemed like he was probably straight, for all Richard could tell. They had never socialized before today, and now here was James all cuffed up and gagged, sitting next to him.
In fact, Richard was getting turned on by James’ cuteness, his innocent eyes, the gray t-shirt, blue jeans, and now in his inescapable bondage next to him. He couldn’t make a word of what he was trying to say to him, as Hawk started up the Jeep and pulled onto the road leading to Santa Paula.
“You boys ready for some serious bondage and slavery?” Hawk laughed, turning his eyes on the two bound boys “mmmppphhhing” in the back seat.
Hawk—
Triple Binding--
Richard felt deceived and betrayed. The picture Hawk had sent him wasn’t him after all. He looked potentially dangerous, and even his laughter seemed perverted. Hawk drove rapidly through the back country of Santa Paula and pulled onto a bumpy dirt road.
He and James were met by Miguel and Juan, as Hawk pulled them from the back seat. Their leg cuffs made walking difficult, but they were shuffled rapidly down into Hawk’s dungeon. Richard struggled, but Hawk merely pushed him into a separate cell-like room, with James separated into another prison cell, complete with iron bars.
“Tie him to the plank, in a stress position like this,” Hawk showed Miguel and Juan, leaning over a huge plank running across the room. Richard’s handcuffs and leg irons were removed and his hands were carefully extracted from the mass of ropes around his body.
Before Richard knew it his arms were stretched across the beam and each wrist was bound securely with 25 feet of hemp rope, along with his biceps. He had to hold his head up and his back almost immediately began to ache. The two Hispanic thugs worked quickly, grabbing his ankles and securing them to opposite walls in an eye bolt.
Hawk walked up to Richard’s face, and ripped the duct tape off his face.
“So, after all we’ve been through, you decided to betray me—even after you signed the contract to be my slave!” Hawk shouted, as he grabbed Richard’s face and squeezed his cheeks together. “You even went so far as to substitute that little queer we brought here as if it was you!” referring to the hapless Brian, now suspended by a noose in another part of the dungeon.
“I told you that you would be punished for any infractions and it looks like you made some major mistakes, kid. So, what do you think I should do to you? Care to make any suggestions?” Hawk teased Richard.
“Sir,” Richard began slowly, “permission to speak?”
“Go ahead….but be careful what you say or a gag goes back in,” hawk replied.
“Do anything you want to me, Sir, but please, let my two friends go—they meant no harm to you, they were just trying to prevent me from doing what they felt was a stupid thing, becoming your slave,” Richard pleaded.
Hawk held up his right index finger to his lips, implying Richard should shut up. “And who, exactly, told them that we had an agreement for your slavery?”
“I did,” Richard intoned meekly. “I am so sorry, Sir!”
Hawk did not reply, but stepped away into the darkness. He went out into the hallway and out of earshot, where he was talking to presumably Miguel and Juan.
“Bind the new kid with rope, like you did with that faux Richard kid in there,” pointing to the bound Brian. “Make sure he can’t get out, you understand, then get the wide duct tape and mummify both of them, leaving their noses free—for now. Oh,” almost as an afterthought, he added, “give them something to drink; we don’t want them to dehydrate now do we?”
Miguel and Juan immediately left the hallway to comply with Hawk’s instructions. Soon, James was looking like a rope mummy himself, and Brian was rapidly wrapped in duct tape from his feet to his neck, binding him in an inescapable cocoon of silver tape.
Then, James struggled as he too was mummified in the thick tape, so much so that he could not even bend his knees. When he looked down all he could see was a mass of tape binding his already bound body.
Meanwhile, Richard awaited his own fate, which was surely soon to happen. His back was killing him in the stressful position he had been bound, and he only expected much worse to come.
The Mummy’s Return--
Richard couldn’t figure out what Hawk had in mind for him. He knew James and Brian must be completely trussed up now, but not how. Hawk returned with three men/boys and began untying him from the beam. He could only let out a sigh of relief. “Thanks you, Sir,” he said, meaning it. Hawk grunted and said:
“Take care of him, like the others,” Hawk commanded, “I’ve got work to do in the lab.” He swiftly left.
Jose, the guy in the tight yellow shirt, pulled his shirt off and threw it at Richard. “Put this on,” he demanded, “you’re gonna need it soon!” Richard complied, pulling the tight shirt over his now weak body, snapping the neck in place. They let him keep his jeans on but he was still without shoes or socks, having left his apartment in such a hurry.
Miguel and Juan were standing alongside Richard, behind the locked cell door. There was no escape, Richard realized, unless he could overpower these three guys and find the key to get out. He decided to comply with their instructions—besides his back was killing him from being bent over that beam so long. They picked up the hemp rope he had just been bound in and tied him quickly, hands behind his back, feet together, knees and thighs bound, an more rope wrapped around his chest, elbows, and waist, completely immobilizing him now.
Juan produced a bottle of Gatorade, and offered this to Richard. “Drink it all,” he said, “you’re gonna need it.” Richard gulped the blue liquid down, not realizing it contained a strong dose of 3,4 methylenedioxy-N-methylamphetamine (MDMA), commonly known as Ecstasy, which had also been given to his two friends not long before.
Juan, Jose and Miguel then took out thick rolls of 4” duct tape, and bound Richard from neck to toes, completely mummifying his body. “”Ready for your gag?” Juan asked, as he shoved a rolled up sock into Richard’s compliant mouth. Richard could not even close his jaw, before Jose began wrapping more tape around his face, completely covering his face from nose to chin with four wraps.
Instead of fear, Richard was beginning to feel the warm embrace of the MDMA, which dissolved all of his animosity to these three kidnappers. He looked at them now with complete affection, even love, which he found odd, given his circumstance. “Mmmmppphhhh! mmmpphhh!” he tried to speak, with only unintelligible sounds coming from under his thick gag.
He was sensing a vast euphoria, while still sensing he was completely sober, enjoying his mummified state, even when Miguel walked up with a thick leather hood and pulled it over his head. It felt like a warm embrace, as did the thick binding of duct tape and rope underneath. He was feeling absolutely wonderful, as Miguel tightened the hood, fastened the blindfold and eliminated all visual and most auditory senses. He heard a lock click behind his neck, apparently Miguel locking the hood in place.
They carried him carefully out of the cell and walked maybe 30 paces. He heard a metal door open and felt a distinct lowering of the temperature, as they placed his fully bound body on the floor. He was in complete darkness, but his sense of boundless love keep overwhelming him now. He loved what was happening, but it did not seem to be that he was even there anymore. He tried to move but that was impossible. He heard the door clang closed and lay there for a few seconds before he heard muffled sounds coming from besides him. It must be Brian and James he thought. He tried reaching over by rolling, and collided with one of them. He tried to express his complete affection for both of them, but again, all that came out was ‘mmmppphhs.”
Somehow though, they did seem to be talking, which he found strangely delightful. Here he was bound, gagged and mummified and it felt perfectly natural. The three mummies were now in a walk-in refrigerator, keeping their body temperatures low—for now. They continued their ‘conversation” and bumping into each other for quite some time. The drug continued coursing through their minds, enveloping them in deep affection for each other and their present circumstance. They lost their identities and were now just three mummy friends, bound and gagged.
Confluence of Events, or Deus ex machina
Richard was lost in a captivating world of MDMA realizations, with boundless love coursing through his every fiber. His bondage also seemed utterly normal and perfect, like his life’s wishes had come completely true now. And his two friends were joining him in this voyage, all trussed up and mummified besides him. The freezer lowered their body temperatures considerably, but their clothes, the heavy roping, the layers of thick duct tape and heavy leather hoods seemed to keep them all extraordinarily comfortable. Time stopped for all of them. They were in a timeless dimension, almost floating in their bondage now. Even the complete darkness had no fearsome effect—it all seemed so perfect.
Later, who knows exactly when? They heard loud noises, like a New Years or Fourth of July celebration outside their freezing chamber. It grew silent for a long time, even with James and Brian “mmppphhing” besides him. Suddenly, Richard heard the door being opened and felt his body being lifted up and being carried outside the cold chamber and being placed down.
“Looks like they are still alive,” he heard one of the men say, “Are you ok in there boy?” someone else asked him. All he could do was laugh. “Lol, mmpphhh!”
He felt many hands touching his mummified body, and there was obvious tugging on the lock on his hood. “We’ll have to get a bolt cutter,” one of the voices said, as the blindfold was unsnapped and light hit his eyes now, for what seemed like an eternity. “Don’t worry boy, we’ll have you outta there in no time, just take it easy.”
Richard did not know if he should feel glad but did, as the drug sustained the feeling of overwhelming love just as before with the Hispanic boys. He looked over and could see two more mummies being brought out of the freezer, and their blindfolds being taken off too. They were “mmppphhhing” up a storm, which made Richard laugh. “So funny,” he thought, even though that was all he could do anyway himself.
The burly men who had rescued them were unraveling the duct tape as quickly as possible. Finally, each boy was free of the duct tape, exposing their rope bindings underneath.
“Shit!” one guy exclaimed, “Look at all this rope too! What did they think; they were some kind of Houdini’s and could ever get out of this?” The men carefully removed whatever rope they could, and began cutting what was too knotted to get off quickly. Soon, all three boys were sitting up, free of rope and duct tape but still wearing their leather hoods, without the blindfolds and snap on gags.
“What’s this? There’s more duct tape under this!” a guy said. “Get me the bolt cutter quick.”
After a few long moments the locks were snapped off and the leather hoods removed, and the last of the thick duct tape was removed and the gags taken out of their mouths. Brian, James and Richard thanked the men profusely for saving them, and hugged them all a bit too long for any ordinary rescue. MDMA, of course: the love drug.
When the boys finally stopped, Richard asked what was going on to one of the men, who had on a DEA jacket. The other guys had FBI written on theirs.
“How did you find us? And what happened to our kidnappers?” he asked, not wanting to get into the voluntary slave agreement that had sent them into this quandary in the first place.
‘I think I know how they found us,” James piped in.
James, in fact, had a secret that he hadn’t told Richard or Brian about. It concerned his father, James Sr., who happened to use the travel agency next door to “Hair Today, Gone Tomorrow” where he and Brian worked, as a cover for his real job, which was with the National Security Agency. For as long as he could remember, his father had told him to always make sure he could be reached, and had given him various “toys” in order to do this. One of them was presently secured magnetically beneath Richard’s back right wheel well. James had secured this in place right after helping Richard get into his Jeep, while still bound behind his back. They were being followed by a spy satellite orbiting the earth 20,000 miles overhead, at that very moment.
James Sr. had received a call from the hair salon’s manager that both his son and Brian had not showed up for work. He had also heard from Richard’s landlady and the manager at Taco Bell, where Brian’s clunker was still parked, beyond the Mall’s closing hours.
James Sr. began observing the tracking device, working as he was at the NSA, and could see it had wound up in Santa Paula. He contacted the FBI in Santa Barbara and told them where to go, as the vehicle appeared to stop. He was also able to “see” the Jeep, using the agency’s spy satellite. He fortuitously gave the FBI the license plate number and description, along with a photo of the Jeep.
In fact, his office at the travel agency was now the command center for getting his son back, unbeknownst to Hawk and his boys. The FBI and DEA reached the ranch within several hours, in the dark of night.
You see, Hawk had been running an MDMA laboratory at the ranch, and his former “slaves” were acting as his helpers, distributors, and salesmen. The ring was now busted in downtown Santa Paula, one of the biggest MDMA busts ever.
The agents explained that Hawk’s men confessed they too had been kidnapped and made to serve him through a careful plan of reprogramming using MDMA, which created an unimaginable bond between hawk and his “boys.” Brian, James and Richard were going to be his new recruits, apparently.
The story would make the national news that evening and into the following week. It wasn’t until a full three weeks went by that the three friends were able to meet-up and share their own impressions. The only problem was that Hawk and Miguel had eluded their captors.
Epilogue—
“Hey babe, you still tired from last night?” Brian whispered in Richard’s ear. He examined Richard’s naked body in the early morning light and could see that the embers of their roaring fire had burned down almost completely now. He pulled the heavy quilt over their naked bodies and cuddled for several long moments. Slowly, his own hard-on began to arise again and he gentle poked Rich’s ass to see his reaction.
“So soon, again?” Rich laughed, “And without all the rope?” he laughed. “Do you want me completely drained?”
Brian and Richard had decided to take a few weeks off up at Richard’s uncle’s cabin in the mountains of Colorado, near Pike’s Peak. They needed to escape both the media attention and the possibility that Hawk and Miguel might show up at his place in Northridge. The first snow of the season had already socked them in, so it felt like a cocoon being there.
The two young men kissed passionately and began further foreplay, when a rustling sound came from the closet in the living room. They jumped out of bed to see what it was, knowing full well what to expect.
“I told you,” Rich said, as he opened the closet door, “that James wouldn’t get out of that roping.”
Indeed, James had struggled all night until he fell asleep in the puffy sleeping bag the two boys had tied him up in. He had only intended to stay for a while but somehow his stay had been extended by inescapable bondage, thanks to Brain and Richard’s skills with rope.
“Serves him right for challenging us,” Brian smiled, as he pulled the sleeping bag out of the closet. “I suppose James, you’re gonna want that gag removed and breakfast, huh?”
“Mmmmppph, mmmppphh!” was all James could say.
Finis
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Jackroper's stories
- 01 - The bound Cowboys (M/M)
- 02 - Teen Wolf (M/M/M)
- 03 - Full Time Slave (M/M/M)
- 04 - Mikey Bound (M/M)
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ttps://tugstories.com/viewtopic.php?f=3 ... s" section
