Stories of Tie Up Games

Part 59.


John and Andy were inside Mr. Powers’ office when they heard the elevator start down from the attic. They went very still; careful to not any make noise for fear of being overheard – especially if the elevator stopped on their level. It did not stop however, and as it continued downward they heard Tank and Brandon talking with each other through the walls. John wasn’t able to make out much of the conversation, but Andy was able to hear enough to surmise that someone had just been left up in the attic, while Tank and Brandon were going downstairs to bring up someone else.

“They won’t be able to hear us now,” Andy whispered to John as the sounds of the elevator and the voices of its occupants faded and retreated in a downward direction. “Let’s get upstairs and see who they left up there.”

“What’ll we do if we find anyone?” John asked nervously. “We’ve been searching through this office a half hour already and haven’t found anything yet that can help us.”

“We still haven’t searched the safe,” Andy pointed out.

“But we can’t open it!” John reminded his younger companion. “We don’t know the combination. And I’ll bet Will doesn’t know it either!”

“I think I know a way to get it open,” Andy replied confidently. “But let’s go check on whoever is up in the attic first before either of those goons comes back.”

John lacked the easy confidence Andy seemed to have of his own abilities to open a locked safe (after all, he was only a nine-year-old!), but said nothing as he let Andy lead the way up to the stairs. Fortunately the house was so large that their movements would be totally inaudible all the way down to the ground floor, and the attic door at the head of the stairs hadn’t been locked. John and Andy therefore had no trouble reaching the attic.

Neither boy had been up here before; and they were amazed by all they saw. Andy was amazed and impressed by all the dungeon-like furnishings. John was amazed and puzzled why Will hadn’t brought him up here for one of his bondage games prior to this – if only to put a scare into him and make him more obedient in his stubborn first few days of captivity. Perhaps Will had thought it would have been too overwhelming for John to handle; being as high-strung as he sometimes was. If so, perhaps he’d been right. In any case, it was evident now that Will had not been exaggerating when he’d declared that he’d been taking it easy on John whenever he’d had to punish him for something!

Impressive as the layout was, the attention of both boys was immediately occupied by the one person who was already occupying the room. Matt was just a few feet away from them; standing on tip-toes and being held in place by manacles that were suspended by stout chains from the ceiling. He didn’t look like he’d been abused much as yet; but then of course there’d been little time for torture so far. Matt saw them almost at once and began to make muffled noise at them. He was not gagged, but his mouth was stuffed with something that made it impossible for him to speak coherently.

Looking around them to confirm that no one else was in the attic, John and Andy hurried up to where Matt stood and looked him over. He wasn’t hurt, but there was no way to free him from the manacles. There was no key, and they had no tools with which to break them – and likely not enough time to either before the intruders came back.

John pried open Matt’s mouth and pulled the damp socks that had been stuffed into it out; tossing them away in disgust. “What’s going on, Matt?” John asked even before he’d pulled the socks out. “Who are these two guys? They’re not friends of Will’s, are they?”

“Naw,” Will said with a quiet, hoarse-sounding tone as he flexed his sore jaws and tried to get that horrible taste of dirty socks and unwashed feet out of his mouth. “They’re the guys Paul and I escaped from. They tracked me down here. They’ve got everyone else tied up downstairs; even Will. Oh God, do you guys have anything to drink with you? My mouth’s dry as cotton and tastes like raw sewage.”

John looked around, and found an unopened quarter-liter sized bottle of spring water on a nearby table. He grabbed it and twisted the top open. “It’s probably pretty warm though,” he cautioned as he lifted the bottle up to Matt’s lips. “Looks like it’s been sitting up here for days… maybe weeks.”

“Don’t care! Gimme a sip, fast!” Matt urged him. “Just a sip so I can rinse first.”

John complied, tilting the bottle back just enough for Matt to get a small sip while Matt bent his head forward to receive it. He took a small lip, swished noisily, and then turned his head aside to spit out the contents rather than swallow it. “Again,” he asked; his voice sounding a bit less hoarse than it had. This time he took a larger sip and swallowed it; sighing with relief. “Warm as piss alright, but it’s like heaven right now,” he sighed.

“What’ll we do?” Andy asked somewhat plaintively. “We can’t leave him here, and those guys could come back any moment!”

“Well, we can’t free him,” John said reasonably as he gave Matt another sip of water –considering taking one for himself but deciding against the idea. “We’ll have to…”

He was suddenly interrupted by the sound of the gate buzzer going off.

*****

Silence reigned inside the kitchen. No one moved and no one made a sound. Even Tank and Brandon remained as quiet and as unmoving as their gagged and tied prisoners for a moment in the surprise all apparently felt at the situation. Then the gate buzzer rang again; this time a bit more insistently. Someone was apparently determined to attract attention and come onto the property.

Tank suddenly snapped out of his apparent funk and rushed toward Will. Will was concerned that his loosened bonds would be noticed when his captor came so close to him, but Tank apparently didn’t notice that at all as he suddenly deflated Will’s butterfly gag (Oh, blessed relief!), unbuckled it, and hastily yanked the gag off Will’s face.

“Who is that out there?” Tank demanded to know. “Are you expecting someone?”

Will did not have the slightest idea, and wasn’t sure whether he wanted to find out either. Will was nothing if not quick-witted however, and decided to try to turn this unexpected development to his advantage. Having had time to overcome his own surprise, he put on a poker face the moment the gag was removed but allowing some of his relief to show. “Must be my mom and dad and my aunt! We told you she borrowed the car. She went to bring them home. And there they are. So you’d better let us go before they get concerned and call the police. Untie us and we’ll even let you sneak away unseen and leave the police out of it.”

“You’re full of it,” Tank snapped as the gate buzzer went off yet again. “I know how your security system works. If that was your folks’ car, they’d simply buzz themselves in; they wouldn’t be sitting out there waiting for you to do it! Now who is that *really*?”

“Maybe the device in the car that sends the signal to open the gate is on the fritz,” Will retorted. “In which case, the longer they wait, the more likely they are to call the police!”

“You got any way to see who it is?” asked Tank. “How do you talk to them?”

“Flip open the laptop lid over there on the counter,” Will instructed; nodding his head toward the computer in question. “It’s already on, and already set on showing what the gate security camera sees. Might not be much this time of time though; the outside gate light is burned out and we haven’t replaced it yet.” Will grinned, as that much at least was the actual truth. “There’s a two-way speaker built into it too.”

Tank opened the laptop; the screen saver immediately turned on the screen monitor. The picture remained mostly dark however; all that was visible was part of the gate and a set of headlights shining on them from beyond. Nothing could be seen of the vehicle itself; let alone its occupants. From the height of the headlights however, it was evidently a van of some kind.

“If it’s not mom and dad, it must be the police,” Will replied smoothly. “Look, whoever it is, they’re evidently staying put. The jig is up. Just let us go now and let me let whoever that is in, and you and your buddy can just slip out the back way here and leave. No real harm’s been done yet, so I won’t say anything to anyone about this… ever. Not even to my folks. I’ll let bygones be bygones. What do you say?”

Tank and Brandon exchanged blank looks filled with apparent despair. Then Tank turned to look at Will again; all bravado apparently forgotten. “All right, you’ve got a deal. I’ll let them in. Better show me how to do it; it’ll take too long to untie you first.”

Despite the cockiness he felt at unexpectedly obtaining the upper hand, Will didn’t point out to Tank how much progress he’d already made in undoing his knots. He was too eager to get this situation over with before whoever was out there gave up and left. “Hit the Ctrl button. That’ll give you a menu showing icons to open the gate and close it. Just click on the open button. You won’t need the password; the system was engaged hours ago and I never bothered to clear it.”

Tank clicked on the Ctrl button, found the open gate icon, and clicked on it with the small mouse pad built into the laptop. On the monitor, the gate could now be seen sliding open. A few seconds later, the gate was opened wide enough to allow the vehicle waiting beyond to continue on up the driveway, which it immediately did at a strangely precipitate rate of speed. As it approached the camera, it came into range of a light pole midway between the gate and the tree upon which the camera was perched. Revealed was a bright blue van with the words Camp Willywonka on it. It was visible for only a couple of seconds, and then passed on out of camera range as it drove toward the house at almost highway speeds.

Will was suddenly dismayed. Camp Willywonka? Why was a van from that hellhole coming here at all; let alone in the middle of the night? Too late, he suspected a trick.

“Thanks, doofus!” Tank suddenly said to Will with a voice filled with delight rather than dejection as he clicked on the Close Gate icon. The gate in the monitor stopped its sliding almost at once, paused a second, and then reversed course to slide shut again. “That’s all I needed to know.”

“Wha… what’s going on?” Will asked with a hollow voice as the pit of his stomach suddenly felt like it went into free fall. “Who’s in the van?”

“Just some of our pals we called up while we were waiting outside for nightfall,” Brandon replied cheerfully as he and Tank exchanged high-fives and strolled casually to the kitchen door lading outside. “We arranged for them to come here at eleven; either to give us a ride away from here if we were unable to break in or to help us out and bring some supplies if we made it. We’ll introduce you shortly; we told them that if they got in to drive around to the back and meet us right here.”

At that moment the sound of a van’s engine could be heard entering the driveway in back of the house and a set of headlights shone momentarily into the kitchen from the door and adjacent window that looked outside. There was a brief honking of a horn as the sounds of the van’s engine died down.

“You three behave yourselves until we get back,” Tank said to Will and his two fellow captives as he and Brandon opened the kitchen door and exited through it.

Will groaned to himself and then, remembering he was no longer gagged, began to swear luridly under his breath. Instead of relieving the situation, the arrival of the van only made things vastly worse. The only saving graces were that his captors hadn’t noticed that he’d managed to loosen his bonds, and that they were as yet unaware that John and Andy were in the house and free to roam. But the arrival of an additional (and so far unknown) number of new potential foes had made things dangerously more complicated.

Tank and Brandon hurried outside and ran down the short walkway that led to the end of the driveway where the van had parked, just as three people emerged from its cab. They greeted the driver with enthusiastic claps to the shoulder and back and shook his hand, and Tank greeted the other two with high-fives. Brandon only knew the driver, and so Tank introduced him to the other two for the first time.

The driver of the van was a tall but reedy-thin boy named Vic. He was eighteen but was little larger and looked little older than did either Tank or Brandon. He was also one of the camp counselors at Camp Willywonka; although not the one they had stolen the car and other stuff from. In fact, he and the other counselor were virtual blood enemies; which made him like Brandon and Tank even more after what they had done when escaping Camp Willywonka.

Vic was six foot one and weighed no more than 150 pounds, had curly black hair, and gray eyes. His most distinctive feature however was a foot-wide tattoo on his chest depicting a crimson (and blood-dripping) biohazard symbol with a skull-and-crossbones in the center. It was in fact mainly visible now as he was wearing an open vest rather than a regular shirt; revealing much of his lean, well-tanned chest and belly.

With him were two of Tank’s other friends from somewhere other than Camp Willywonka., whom Brandon had never met before. Dirk was black, sixteen, and had a handsome face and a trim muscular build. He was five foot nine and weighed about 160. His hair was shaven off except for a quarter-inch high Mohawk that ran down the center of his scalp. Despite a ferocious appearance however, he seemed the be the most laid back of the three and had a more reasonably genial disposition than the others.

The other boy, aged seventeen, was Sal. He was the younger brother of another pal of theirs named Vinny, whom he helped to run a chop shop for stolen cars and sometimes fenced other hot merchandise. Sal was five-foot-eleven and weighed about 185 pounds. He was somewhat muscular, but some of that weight was also flab. He looked something like a nerd as he wore coke-bottle glasses, had buck teeth covered in braces, possessed a dense cluster of freckles all over his face and shoulders, and long, scraggly hair. Anyone who called him a nerd usually learned their mistake the hard way however as he had a vile temper and loved to fight. He rarely smiled, and when he did he looked scarier than when he frowned or scowled (by far his most frequent expressions).

“You bring all the gear we asked you for?” Tank asked Vic.

“You bet,” Vic proclaimed as he led the others to the back of the van and opened the door. “Take a look for yourself.”

Tank and Brandon looked inside the back of the van in delight. Inside was enough food and drink to last them for a month; including cigarettes, beer, pot, soda, and a vast selection of snack foods. But what attracted their attention was a vast collection of bondage supplies that was also packed into the van, including chains, manacles, miles of thick heavy rope, assorted gags, whips and riding crops, sex toys of all descriptions stolen from a sex shop one of them had burglarized, and several papoose boards large enough and secure enough to hold adults.

There were also two slaves handcuffed and hobbled together; seated on a bench built into the interior side of the van. Both were fourteen-year-old boys of medium height and slender build, light blonde hair, and gorgeous sky-blue eyes. They were identical twins nick-named Bill and Ted (though neither looked like his famous namesake from those two movies). Both wore Speedos (Bill’s a bright red and Ted’s a bright shade of blue) and nothing else except for their restraints and the ball gags that were buckled and locked onto their slender and otherwise angelic faces. They looked outside at the others with calm resignation rather than fear, as if they’d been slaves for so long that they had practically never known any other way of life.

“Where’d you get those two?” Brandon asked. “You kidnap them from camp?”

“Naw, they belong to Dirk here,” Vic replied as he indicated the black boy standing behind him with a jerk of his thumb. “He and they were at the Orphanage together a number of years. He protected them from abuse by any of the other bigger kids, and they did whatever he told them to. Eventually they formed a master/slaves relationship. When Dirk ran away from the orphanage, those two went with him. Been his personal slaves ever since. They don’t seem to mind though; any more than a pair of dogs would.”

While Vic was explaining all this, Dirk had stepped into the back of the van and unlocked a padlock that held the two boys locked together and had simultaneously tethered them to a metal rung that had been set into the ceiling. This gave them freedom of movement while still leaving them hobbled and their wrists locked together in front; in both cases by a set of manacles held together by a thick thirty-inch-long gleaming metal chain.

“You two start carrying this gear into the house,” Dirk was telling them. “Tank and Brandon will show you where. I want this van emptied out in one hour. Move it!”

The two slave-boys, still hobbled, shackled, and gagged but free to move reasonably unhindered, docilely nodded in evident respect to their master (saying nothing as they were still gagged) and began to do as they were told without a hint of complaint or hesitation. They showed no fear or nervousness about their situation; they were, in fact, apparently quite used to it. No one present could not for sure whether or not they were sad or happy about it, as they seemed to show little emotion of any kind. But they moved and carried out Dirk’s orders as if they were acting out of their own genuine desires.

Tank and Brandon exchanged evil smiles. “That’s the kind of slaves *we* want!” Tank said to the other. “Think we can make Will and the others as obedient as these two?”

“I’m sure we’ll have plenty of time and lots of fun trying to find out, at any rate,” Brandon replied confidently. “As they say, getting there is half the fun.”

Tank and Brandon led their three new buddies into the kitchen and immediately showed off their new captives. Dirk seemed more interested in the layout of the house itself rather than its occupants and began to explore the rest of the first floor. Once he found the rec room and noticed that it contained a great deal of empty space, he returned to the kitchen and indicated to his two slaves to put the bulk of the van cargo in there. It was a long trip for each load, but the slaves simply acknowledged his orders with a nod and complied as if the idea had been their own.

Tank, Brandon, Sal and Vic gathered around the kitchen table and the chairs where Corey, Paul, and Will still sat bound to their chairs. Luckily for Will he was the furthest of the three from the outside door, and there was little empty space behind him. As a result no one else came close to and behind him, or they would likely have noticed how slack many of the ropes around his arms, wrists and torso had become. Instead, they were distracted either by Paul and Corey (who abetted this by deliberately making as much of a fuss as they could while Will remained quiet), or by the contents of the refrigerator and the pantry. They were also enthused by the prospect of having the run of a luxurious house like this for the first time in their lives and paid more attention to the furnishings of the kitchen and adjacent room than they did to the captives; at least, at first.

Tank was just about to specifically introduce them to Will as the rich boy who actually lived here – which would have of course rendered him immediately susceptible to taunts, abuse, and most likely immediate discovery that he wasn’t tied as securely as he was supposed to be. Before Tank could get started however, Vic cut him off with a question.
“So what happened to that twerp, Matt?” he asked. “Did he get away from you?”

“Naw, we’ve got him tucked away up in the attic!” Tank replied proudly; forgetting about Will for the time being. “Man, you should see that place. It looks like a medieval dungeon. Chains, manacles, a cage… everything you could ask for. Come on, we’ll show it to you right now. Say, we should bring along one of these idiots along while we’re at it. We were just about to take one of them upstairs when you rang the buzzer.”

“Which one is the guy who set Matt loose?” Vic asked. “I’ve got a personal score to settle with him for letting Matt escape. After all the time and effort I spent in bringing him to Camp and training him, and the day I leave him with you guys this jerk comes along and takes him away! Which of these nerks is it?”

“That one,” Tank replied, pointing at Paul with an accusatory gesture and smiling diabolically. Paul suddenly began sweating more profusely and was noticably trembling.

“Fine! Let’s take *him* with us when we got upstairs!” Vic said with a grin that suddenly reminded Paul of Dracula… or perhaps Jaws.

“Okay, give me a hand with him Brandon,” Tank asked his friend as he walked over to Paul’s chair in preparation for lugging Paul off.

“Hey, that’s slave work,” Dirk suddenly exclaimed. “Let Bill and Ted do it. Yo! Slaves!”

Bill and Ted had been outside carrying some bondage gear in but appeared at the kitchen door as suddenly as if they had popped in out of thin air. “Take him and his chair along with us,” Dirk told them simply.

The two slaves obeyed with alacrity, even though the burden of Paul and chair together must have been considerable even for the two of them. Neither slave-boy was very large or muscular, whereas Paul was bigger and heavier than either and the chair he was tied into fairly heavy all by itself as well.

Tank and Brandon led the way to the way to the elevator, followed by the two slaves and their burden, Dirk, Vic, and Sal. From being a very crowded and noisy room only a minute before, the kitchen was now quiet and nearly empty again as Will and Corey were left tied inside their chairs. Taking advantage of the fact that none of their captors had thought to check their bonds over or remain to keep an eye on them, Will resumed the twice-interrupted task of trying to free himself from his bonds while he was unobserved.

*****

“There’s someone out by the gate alright,” John told Andy and Matt as he carefully looked out one of the attic windows. “I can see their headlights.”

“Is this good news or bad news?” Andy asked with an apprehensive look. Up to now he’d been feeling like this was just a fun new adventure. Now he was getting worried that things might be about to get out of hand.

“I don’t know, but the gate is opening now. Whoever it is, they’re coming in.” John reported from the window. “It’s a van. It’s got… Uhhh… Matt… what was the name of that place that you and Paul fled from again?”

“Camp Willywonka,” Matt replied. “Why?”

“Because the side of the van has that name plastered all over it,” John replied as he stepped away from the window and began walking to a window on the opposite wall. “I saw it when it passed by that tall light-post out front. It’s going around the house now. I guess it’s going to the back door. Yep,” he added as he looked out the other window. “It’s stopping. Those two goons we saw are going out to meet them.”

“Oh, crap-cakes!” Matt muttered quietly to himself. “Those bastards! Tank and Brandon must’ve Vic called for help. It’s him in the van; probably with a couple of his cronies. Things are even worse than ever now!”

“There are three of them coming out of the van,” John confirmed. “I see a tall thin guy, a black kid, and some chubby guy with glasses.”

“Vic, Dirk, and Sal,” Matt groaned. “The three stooges, only more brutal and less funny. We’re all in for it now.”

“What the f…” John exclaimed. “There are two more guys coming out of the back of the van. They’re a couple of blonde kids my age… all chained up.”

“Dirk’s two slaves,” Matt explained. “I saw them once or twice before. Very obedient. Vic was trying to ‘train’ me to be just like those two, with Tank and Brandon’s help. In a fight, they’d likely side with them; not us. Don’t trust them.”\

“John, what are we going to do?” Andy asked; sounding like the very worried little boy he was rather than the brave hero he was imagining himself to be a while earlier. In fact, he was evidently fighting to stifle tears, and his little body was starting to tremble.

“Stay hidden, for starters,” John replied calmly as he got down on one knee in front of Andy to try to soothe him. “They don’t know we’re here. They think no one else is here. That gives us an advantage. Maybe if we can catch one of them alone and off-guard, we can even the odds a little.”

“And maybe that safe has something we can use,” Andy replied hopefully. John doubted this, but the idea seemed to be cheering Andy up so he kept his doubts firmly to himself.

“Once Vic learns I’m up here, it won’t be long before they send him up here,” Matt warned them. “You guys had better go before they do. Leave me here. There’s nothing you can do to help me. Wait, before you do, take that water bottle with you… and stuff those socks back into my mouth. If they see that bottle or see those socks way over there, they’ll know something’s wrong.”

John found the socks where he’d tossed them. Unfortunately they’d landed under the bed, in a place that had been collecting a massive amount of dust-balls. It was practically impossible to clean them all off of the wet and already foul socks. John felt queasy at the thought of Matt having to have those placed back into his mouth, but if they weren’t there when his captors came back he would likely face an even worse fate. With considerable reluctance and with a sympathetic grimace of displeasure on his face, John gently stuffed the incredibly nasty mass back inside Matt’s mouth.

The sound of the elevator motor starting up alerted the three boys that they were out of time. Matt made urgent noise to the other two and shook his head urgently toward the stairway, but his muffled urgings were unnecessary. John and Andy were already on their way out of the attic.

The two paused at the bottom of the stairs as the elevator came up to the level of their floor; striving to listen while they avoided making any noise themselves that might tip off their new adversaries. The elevator passed the third floor and ascended to the attic. Once it was well away, Andy and John tip-toed away from the stairway and hurried down the hallway back to Mr. Powers’ office as fast as they dared go while maintaining stealth.

Their only hope was in finding something in the office that could help them prevail against five enemies (and probably seven, counting the slaves). Failing that, they would have to consider finding a way to escape from the mansion and the grounds unseen and bringing back help from somewhere. Perhaps when Tasha arrived to cook breakfast in the morning, they could alert her to what was happening; although that would be a last resort out of sheer desperation of course. In any case, suspicions would certainly be aroused when she buzzed for admittance and no one let her in…

Or would they let her in? And would that make the situation better, or worse?

John’s mind was in a whirl, and he barely noticed when Andy walked up to the safe and began to fiddle with the dial. Right, kid… John thought to himself in something of a daze; go ahead and pretend you’re a safecracker if that makes you feel any better! At least it’ll keep you calm and quiet while I quietly freak out trying to find a way out of this horrible mess and…

“Got it!” a childish voice gleefully announced as John heard the sound of a ponderous metal door swing wide open.

John turned to look at the safe. It was indeed wide open, although from where he stood he could not see into it.

“How… the f… uhhh… I mean, how did you… how did you…” John stammered lamely.

“I found this slip of paper tucked inside the back of the desk,” Andy replied; holding a small tattered scrap of paper in one small hand. “Will’s dad hides stuff the same way *I* do, I guess. Saw these numbers on it. Guessed it was the safe combination. I was right.”

“Oh… right,” John said numbly as he stepped toward Andy and turned to see what was inside the safe. “So, anything interesting in there we can… Oh my f***ing God!” John found himself exclaiming in shock (despite the presence of a much younger child) as he finally saw what was inside the safe.

This is like the second mention of a black dude I've found on this board. Let's hope he ends up nicely packaged up and with a taste of his own socks and/or medicine!

blackbound wrote: 6 years ago This is like the second mention of a black dude I've found on this board. Let's hope he ends up nicely packaged up and with a taste of his own socks and/or medicine!

I feature blacks in a number of other stories I haven't yet re-posted on this site as well, so you'll see more of them eventually. They feature prominently some of my artwork as well, as I find black boys in Tugs (doms or subs) personally very appealing.

Part 60.

John paused in almost total paralysis for a moment; stunned by what he was looking at lying in the upper of the two compartments inside the safe. Then, gingerly, as if he thought one of the objects might come alive and attack him, he reached in and pulled one of the metallic objects out to look at it more closely.

“Why on Earth would Will’s dad have handcuffs in here?” Will asked aloud; more to himself than to Andy. “And why keep so many of them? There must nearly be a dozen sets of the things in here!”

There were ten sets of cuffs; all more or less identical except that half of them seemed larger and sturdier than the other half. They looked much like the handcuffs Will had used on him earlier, except that instead of a short linked chain connecting the two cuffs, there was a single metal bar that provided at most a limited amount of mobility, and which kept the two halves closer together. The central part was thick and sturdy, and seemed to have some kind of electronics built into its core. Looking more closely, John also noticed what seemed to be tiny electrodes built into the structures of the cuffs themselves.

“I think they’re supposed to be electronic,” Andy piped up. “Will’s dad works for a company that makes stuff like shock collars for dogs. Remember that shock collar you were wearing when we met? Will’s dad invented it. I think these cuffs are supposed to do the same thing; see these little gizmos where the two cuffs connect?”

John spotted a sheet of paper underneath some of the handcuffs and ankle-cuffs (John now realized that half of these sets were intended for use as hobbles rather than for the wrists) and pulled it out to look at it. The paper, evidently a patent application, showed the title “Electroshock/Injection Cuffs), a picture of one of the devices, and a rather detailed explanation of their construction and intended use.

Basically, the cuffs were outfitted with sensors including "accelerometers, potentiometer, inclinometer, biometric sensors and cameras" in order to tell the state, health and location of the person wearing them. They would be able to deliver powerful electric shocks to detainees - after a warning light or noise lets the wearer know they're about to get shocked - in order to physically restrain them without intervention by another person.
The system could theoretically detect when a prisoner moved outside of a pre-defined zone, and shock them so they were not able to get away. Alternatively they could be used in "keep out" mode, shocking a wearer if they crossed a certain boundary to get into a restricted area. And, of course, they could be triggered deliberately by remote control by a guard or other authorized person.

The handcuffs were designed to deliver a shock between 20,000 and 150,000 volts and between 0.5 and 6 milliamps. The duration of the shock could last from 0.5 to 10 seconds. In addition, the shock could be delivered in a constant jolt or intermittently.

The patent also detailed how the handcuffs could be used to deliver substances - specifically: "A liquid, a gas, a dye, an irritant, a medication, a sedative, a transdermal medication or transdermal enhancers such as dimethyl sulfoxide, a chemical restraint, a paralytic, a medication prescribed to the detainee, and combinations thereof. The substances would be injected via needles or through a gas injection system. They could be used for "any desired goal", the patent said; including providing needed medication or restraining them chemically.

John wondered what paralytic agent the designers had in mind; and then hoped he’d never find out for himself!

John read this with growing disbelief. “Holy crap! And I thought the shock collar was bad!” John muttered out loud to himself. Silently, he wondered what his captivity would have been like had Will had access to *these* things the previous week!

“If we can figure out how to use these things, they’d be pretty handy, huh?” asked Andy.

“Maybe… eventually,” John replied quietly as he put the patent back into the safe. “But somehow I doubt we’re going to be able to convince those guys holding the others prisoner to put the things on so we can subdue ‘em.”

“Maybe not with sweet talk,” Andy said with a grin as he looked deeper into the lower compartment of the safe. “But look what else I’ve found!”
John looked where Andy indicated and grinned; now that was more like it!

*****

Matt watched nervously as Andy and John hurried down the stairs leading out of the attic as quickly but as quietly as they could; would the two of them be able to get out of sight and earshot before the elevator car opened up into the attic?

But even before the elevator opened up, Matt realized that he had nothing to worry about. The occupants of the elevator – and it sounded like the car was stuffed full of occupants this time – were making so much noise talking with one another and taunting another captive they apparently had with them that John and Andy could have made ten times as much noise as they had and still gone unnoticed. The moment the elevator car opened, the occupants were so focused on either Matt or Paul that they were oblivious to everything else. By the time they began emerging from the elevator car; Andy and John were so completely out of sight and earshot even Matt couldn’t have told that they were still nearby.

Vic, Dirk, and Sal emerged from the elevator car grinning from ear to ear as they looked all around the attic and whistled in admiration at the furnishings. Tank and Brandon focused their attention on Matt to gleefully observe his reactions at the newcomers (whom, as far as they knew, would be complete surprises to Matt). Bill and Ted meanwhile struggled with carrying Paul and his chair out of the elevator car and over to a spot Dirk had idly directed them to carry Paul to.

Matt suddenly remembered that he should look surprised; after all, he wasn’t supposed to have been forewarned of Tank and Brandon’s five new allies. But his facial expressions were partially blocked by his face being stuffed full of socks. In addition, his genuine concern at seeing Vic here (mingled with a twinge of sympathy for Paul) had already given his expression a strong overtone of dread. Also, the attention of most of the arrivals was focused on their surroundings rather than on Matt himself; at least, at first. Because of all this, his relative lack of surprise at seeing Vic and the other newcomers went almost totally unnoticed.

But eventually Vic, Sal, Tank, and Brandon gathered around Matt to taunt and tease him while he remained standing there; half-suspended and unable to move away. By then, his feelings of alarm were so strong that no one was the least bit suspicious that he knew something that they did not.

“So, Mattie boy, you decided to run away from camp did you?” Vic said sardonically to the helpless Matt as he pinched the boy’s cheek rather roughly. “Well, that was very naughty of you. I’m going to have to teach you never to run away again. But for right now, luckily for you, I want to deal with the poor fool that helped you to get away.”

Vic strode over to where Paul and his chair had been set down; directly underneath one of the other chain pulleys that were suspended from an overhead rafter. “Let’s get Paulie here set up same as Matt has been,” he told Dirk. “Only let’s do him upside down, and have him dangle up in the air a ways.”

Dirk indicted his two blond slaves to help him, and together the four of them released Paul from his imprisoning chair and hooked him up to the chains without ever once freeing his limbs sufficiently for him to dare attempt even a vaguely effective resistance to their will. Having already been constantly tied and gagged for many hours without a break further eroded Paul’s ability and willingness to resist. In fact, he would almost have been willing to endure anything if they would simply let him have unhindered access to the bathroom for just a few minutes!

Matt had never gotten around to allowing him a mercy break, and had been interrupted just before he would have relented enough to allow him one. Paul was willing to bet that it would be a long time indeed before any of these newcomers would think of doing him that favor; by which time it would likely already be much too late! Despite this however, Paul grimly held out and hoped for the best. Anything was better than losing bladder or bowel control under circumstances like these!

Paul’s wrists were fastened behind him by a set of standard handcuffs, and his ankles locked inside the manacles that dangled at the end of the chain. Then, working together, Bill, Ted, Dirk, and Vic pulled on the chain attached to Paul’s feet. Paul felt his feet and then his legs briskly hauled up into the air as his upper body was dragged along the floor to follow. A few more hard, brisk tugs later, Paul found himself dangling upside down, with his head roughly at waist level to the others when they stood up.

“Hey Tank, why don’t you and Brandon head back downstairs and get those other two captives of yours up here?” Vic suggested to his companions. “Take Dirk’s slaves along to help you. We can have a real party once everyone is up here. Meanwhile, Sal, Dirk, and I have got a few things to discuss with Matt and his buddy here.”

Vic spoke this as a suggestion, but everyone present knew orders when they heard them. Brandon and Tan headed for the elevator at once; closely followed by Ted and Bill once Dirk motioned silently for them to do so and obey whatever orders they were given. The elevator closed after the four of them, leaving Vic, Dirk, and Sal alone with Matt and Paul up inside the attic.

“I owe you a great deal for the aggravation you’ve caused me, punk,” Vic hissed as he pulled a riding crop out of his front pants pocket and gave it an experimental snap in mid-air. “Here’s a little payment right now.”

Vic swung the riding crop at the small of Paul’s bare, upside-down and defenseless back. The sound of the impact sounded almost as loud as a gunshot.

Paul bit back a scream, which already would have been muffled by the gag he still wore. Oh man; he knew that would hurt but the pain was even worse than he’d imagined! And if he had to endure many more of those, he was definitely going to lose control of his bladder and his bowels and make a real mess on himself!

The riding crop struck again! More pain blazed through Paul’s taut body; this time concentrated on his buttocks (protected only by a Speedo). He writhed and groaned; causing the chains that held him suspended and the chains of his handcuffs to rattle noisily. Tears he could not wipe away began to well up in his eyes, and his teeth bit deeper into the rubbery gag plug that filled much of his mouth.

The crop struck again; this time against Paul’s upper shoulders. And again between his shoulder blades. And yet again on his buttocks once more. Paul writhed in pain, fury, and the desperate need to relieve himself. He closed his eyes tightly and braced himself again the next stroke.

There was a strange popping sound, the sound of electricity, and a startled noise from just a few feet behind him. Instead of the riding crop striking Paul from behind, it suddenly fell to the floor and bounced to a stop just in front of where his head dangled over the floor. This was followed by the sudden thump of a limp human body collapsing to the floor. Startled, Paul turned his head to one side in the direction the sound came from, and could just barely seeing Vic lying on the floor, unconscious.

“Who the hell are you two punks?!” Sal suddenly shouted from a direction Paul couldn’t see until he was able to swing his dangling body around as it hung.

“Get him down from there, or you’re next,” exclaimed a youthful voice Paul recognized as Andy’s from the direction of the stairway leading to the floor below.

Paul managed to swivel his body around enough to see briefly in that direction, and saw both Andy and John standing a few steps down (so that only their upper bodies were visible above floor level) in the stairway. John was holding a Taser that had apparently just been fired. It was an advanced kind that could fire up to three times without re-loading (perhaps one of Mr. Powers’ earlier inventions) and John was attempting to prepare it for another shot. Andy meanwhile had a second, identical Taser in his hand and was aiming it so that he was covering Sal and Dirk more or less simultaneously.

Shocked in a less literal sense than Vic by what had happened, and careful planning not being one of his strong points, Sal let out a warlike bellow and charged at the two younger boys – planning to swoop on them both where they stood and tackle them. But Andy was too quick for him and fired his Taser before Sal was halfway over to them.

Andy was not experienced in firing anything more dangerous than a water pistol or a Nerf gun, but Sal unintentionally aided him by coming closer and presenting a better target that only a blind boy could miss. Sal went down with a yell and fell just shy of the top of the stairs. Had his momentum carried him two feet further, he would have begun tumbling down the stairs; quite likely doing by accident what he planned in the first place by sweeping his Taser-wielding assailants along with him to the bottom of the stairs.

John oriented his Taser at Dirk, but before he could say anything Dirk dodged to one side. John fired his Taser and missed. Andy was still trying to clear the wires from his own weapon to aim a second shot. Dirk swept in and knocked the Taser from Andy’s hands and sent it tumbling down the stairs. As John sought to reorient on his now all-too-close target, Dirk grappled with him; grabbing John’s wrist in a vice-like grip and knocking it forcefully against the nearby wall. John was forced to let go of the Taser, which dropped from nerveless fingers and tumbled down the stairs after the first.

Dirk grappled with the smaller, younger boy. John fought back, but was no match against the older, muscular youth as Dirk sought to get him in to a headlock. Dirk lifted John up bodily and hurled him against the floor as if the two of them were in a WWE wrestling match. John fell heavily against the floor. He wasn’t hurt badly but he was momentarily stunned and all the air has been knocked out of him.

Dirk stood over John and was about to kick him in the ribs where he lay on the floor, but a youthful but blood-curdling yell stopped him. Dirk looked up just as Andy charged, stopped just in front of him, pivoted on one foot, and sent his other sneaker-covered foot arcing upward at great speed. There was the loud and sickening sound of a hard impact of a foot impacting a considerably softer surface.

Dirk stopped, staggered a step backward, bent forward, and clutched his groin. His dark skin took on a sickly, sallow color. His eyes were clenched tight. He tried to scream, but all that came out was a dull hiss. His eyes rolled up, and then he fell heavily forward almost on top of John (who, luckily, recovered his senses and rolled out of the way just in time). Dirk lost interest in everything else except for clutching his groin, curling up into a writhing, jerking fetal position, and groaning in pure misery. The fight had literally been kicked right out of it.

“Where the Hell did you learn a Karate move like that?” John said to his smaller companion with wonder mixed with admiration and greater respect than ever before.

“From the Karate Kid movie with Jaden Smith,” Andy replied happily. “I’ve watched it at least twenty times. Will showed me how to do it right. When you get teased by much bigger kids about telling stories as much as I do, it’s a handy thing to know how to do.”

John made a mental note to himself to ask for Karate lessons from Will once this mess was over and done with.

“What do we do now?” Andy asked John as he helped the other boy to his feet.

“It won’t be long before those other goons return,” John replied as he looked around at their fallen adversaries; “And these three won’t remain incapacitated for long. We’d better do what we can to tie them up and keep ‘em quiet so they can’t warn the others when they return. If we have time, we’ll have to get Paul and Matt free too.”

“Shouldn’t we get them free first?” Andy asked as he looked sympathetically at the two chained-up captives. “Then they could help us.”

“Sure, if you know where the keys to their manacles are,” John pointed out. “I don’t see any keys anywhere. Do you?” Without waiting for an answer, John walked up to where Matt stood and helped him spit out the socks stuffing his mouth. “Do you know where the keys to these things are?” John asked him.

Matt shook his head. “Near as I can tell, there’s only one set of keys for all of them,” Matt answered ruefully. “And Tank has those. Maybe Will knows of another set. I sure don’t! About the only thing you can do to help is take off Paul’s handcuffs. Vic… the tall, skinny one you shocked first, has the keys to those.”

John found the keys to Paul’s handcuffs and freed Paul’s hands. Then he and Andy carefully worked on the chain pulley to get Paul back down onto the floor rather than let him continue to hang upside down from the rafter. Paul was still unable to move more than a few feet away, but at least now he was able to lie down or even stand up again; a vast improvement from before even under these circumstances.

Of course, he still had relief issues to worry about, but there was little his friends could do to help him with those at the moment. Well, there was one thing; he could ask for assistance to relieve his bladder into a jar. But simple pride as well as the fact that they were still in trouble kept Paul from bringing the subject up. He’d continue trying to hold out for as long as he could.

John and Andy then acted to slacken the chains holding Matt’s arms up and keeping him standing on his tip-toes, so that now he could stand on his own two feet and put his arms back down to his sides again. Like Paul however, he could not move more than a few feet away from where the chains on his wrist dangled from the rafter overhead. But at least neither boy was 100% defenseless anymore.

“We can’t unlock ‘em from these shackles then,” John said as he turned back to Andy. “So we’d better work on keeping these guys from helping their buddies when they get back. Go get some of those handcuffs we found in the safe.”

“But we haven’t figured out how to make them shock people or drug ‘em or…” Andy protested.

“Don’t need to for now,” John pointed out. “We just need to know how to lock ‘em, and we *do* have the keys for *those*! Now hurry up; we probably don’t have much time!”

Andy hurried down the steps and was back less than a minute later with three sets each of the special handcuffs and the matching ankle-cuffs in his arms. Working together with brisk efficiency, the two boys then locked handcuffs on the still unconscious Vic’s wrists, locked a set of ankle-cuffs on his legs, and then used Vic’s own handcuffs to lock his other bonds together in a hog-tie. Vic remained unconscious during it all, but seemed otherwise unhurt; at least, he was still breathing normally as if merely asleep.

“You’d better gag him, too,” Matt suggested. “Feel free to use those socks I spat out!”

John nodded, grabbed the socks Matt had spat out (they were even nastier than ever now), stuffed them into Vic’s mouth, and began applying generous portions of duct tape to Vic’s entire lower face just as Vic was starting to revive.

John and Andy repeated the process with Sal, who was also just beginning to revive. John used a short bandanna Sal was wearing around his head to serve as a cinch to create another hogtie, and used Sal’s own shirt for a gag (with a separate T-shirt he’d been wearing underneath as stuffing).

The two boys turned to Dirk, who was conscious but wishing he wasn’t as he continued to lie on the floor in a fetal position and groan in sheer misery. He was still clutching himself in front, and resisted any attempts to force his hands away from that now-very-sore spot. He made no resistance to them otherwise however, and so they settled for handcuffing him in front, locking the ankle-cuffs on him, dragging him over to the cage, dumping him inside, and locking the door on him. Dirk made no objection; he simply continued to groan and curl up into a ball. They didn’t even bother to gag him. Dirk seemed unable to make any noise louder than a moan at the moment anyway.

“There; three down and four to go,” Andy exclaimed cheerfully.

“That would be even odds if we could get Paul and Matt free,” John sighed. “But maybe we can still overwhelm the others if we can maintain the element of surprise… and get a couple more good shots in with those Tasers! Speaking of which; you’d better go get them, and hope to God they still work! They’re the only two we’ve got!”

Andy hastily charged back down the stairs and retrieved the weapons from where they had tumbled down the stairs. He handed them both to John, who looked them over carefully.

“They still look okay,” John surmised aloud. “They don’t seem broken anyway. Let’s just hope they aren’t, or we’re in trouble.”

“We could always test them while we’re still alone,” Andy suggested.

“We’re not sure how much charge is in the things though,” John pointed out. “They’re supposed to be good for three charges each. That’s two left for each; and that’s assuming they were fully charged to begin with. We don’t know that they were. So I’d rather not waste any charges left on tests; only to find out that one shot each was all they had left. No, we’ll have to take our chances and hope for the best.”

“Shouldn’t they be on their way back up here by now?” Andy asked. “They’ve been downstairs an awfully long time now. What’s taking them so long?”

“Probably having fun tormenting Will and Corey,” John replied glumly. “I just hope they’re not treating them *too* badly.”

“Shouldn’t we go downstairs and see?” asked Andy.

“Naw, we’d better not,” replied John after thinking about it for a few moments. “If we use the elevator, they’ll hear us and be forewarned. If we use the stairs, they might go up in the elevator just as we’re going down, and again we’ll lose much of the element of surprise.”

“What if we use the elevator, wouldn’t they just think it’s their own friends coming down to help them?” Andy suddenly inquired.

“Hmmm, you have a thought there,” John conceded. “But I still don’t think we should…”

Suddenly the elevator motor started up, and the indicator lights winked on. The elevator was coming back up. Grimly, John and Andy set themselves a few feet in front of the elevator door and aimed their Tasers at it.

“Remember; make sure when the doors open that whoever you shoot at is one of the enemy, and not either Will or Corey!” John told Andy in a calm, quiet voice.

Andy nodded wordlessly, but smiled up at his friend for a smile; glad he was not alone.

The elevator car reached the attic level and stopped. There was a pause, a metallic dinging sound, and the elevator doors began to slide apart…

*****

You know when to place your chapters transitions to keep suspense constant
Lots of action in these chapters and you use the layout of the place well so it never gets too repetitive, which is quite a challenge considering how long it is...
Liked that little multi-racial action too, good thing it hasn't gone unoticed .
And the twins ( although I favor dom or daring twins )

LK3869 wrote: 6 years ago You know when to place your chapters transitions to keep suspense constant
Lots of action in these chapters and you use the layout of the place well so it never gets too repetitive, which is quite a challenge considering how long it is...
Liked that little multi-racial action too, good thing it hasn't gone unoticed .
And the twins ( although I favor dom or daring twins )

I do have other stories with dom twins as well, which i may re-post here eventually after some revisions to make them more in conformity with current rules. I also find twins particularly fascinating, though unfortunately I have never happened to have had any TuGs with any.

Jason Toddman wrote: 6 years ago I also find twins particularly fascinating, though unfortunately I have never happened to have had any TuGs with any.

Neither did I, some Himalaya on my to-do list Identical outside but different inside yet with a particular bond, that must be something...

LK3869 wrote: 6 years ago

Jason Toddman wrote: 6 years ago I also find twins particularly fascinating, though unfortunately I have never happened to have had any TuGs with any.

Neither did I, some Himalaya on my to-do list Identical outside but different inside yet with a particular bond, that must be something...

I fully agree. I knew some damn fine-looking twins when growing up too, but unfortunately they were never part of my actual social circle.

*****

Part 61.

Corey watched with keen anticipation and more than a touch of envy as Will worked hard on freeing himself. Corey was not merely sitting idly by; he was attempting to loosen his own bonds as well. But so far he had made less progress in the last five hours than Will had accomplished in just the first five minutes after he had begun trying. Naturally more limber in body and far more experienced in dealing with tying people up (and being tied up as well) than Corey was, he was steadily and (mostly) patiently making progress; working with skill, calmness and determination Corey could not begin to match.

Even though he had worked at his bonds only during the intervals when none of their captives was in the kitchen with them, Will had by now made enormous progress. Ten minutes after Paul had been taken away to the attic by the others; Will had managed to get his supple wrists completely free of their restraints. Unhindered by complementary handcuffs (a failure to apply these would be a mistake Tank and Brandon would soon regret – and was a mistake Will now swore he’d never make again himself!), Will’s hands had enough freedom of movement and range to undo several more knots around the ropes that bound his arms to the back of the chair.

Fortunately, his elbows had not been properly secured (another valuable lesson learned!), or his arms would have remained trapped behind him and further progress would have been rendered difficult if not ultimately impossible. As it was, now that his arms were completely free, freeing the rest of his body from the chair he was tied to became simplicity itself.

Unfortunately, his captors had replaced the butterfly gag that he had been fitted with earlier with a second penis gag they’d had (this one blessedly without a thrusting motor like the gag they had placed on the unfortunate Matt)) before they had taken Paul upstairs with them. Fortunately for Will, they’d been too busy gloating over his outrage and discomfort to notice how slack his bonds had gotten. Unfortunately however, the damned penis gag was padlocked on and he did not have the key to remove it; so now Will was stuck with wearing it. But he ignored the discomfort and refused to dwell on what its stuffing was meant to represent.

For one thing, that gag wasn’t his biggest problem right now. By sheer chance, the sound of the elevator car descending dimly reached Will’s ears just as he managed to get the last of the ropes off of him.

Will wanted to free Corey as well, but there was no time to do the job with just his bare hands and fingers. Will rushed to the kitchen counter, pulled out a drawer, and searched for a foot long carving knife with which to cut Corey free in a hurry. But the knives were not in their usual places. Someone had moved them.

Swearing luridly to himself into his gag, Will frantically began searching the kitchen for any sharp knives he could use to cut Corey free and, if need be, as a weapon to protect himself. Even an ordinary steak knife would be better than nothing at this point! But he couldn’t find anything sharper than a butter knife! What the Hell?! Who hid the damned things? It couldn’t have been Tank or Brandon; at least, ever since Will had regained consciousness from being chloroformed he’d seen them do nothing with the kitchen utensils! They must have been taken away and hidden before he’d revived; but when and where were they all now?

Will abruptly noticed that Corey was frantically trying to call to him, but the ball gag that was buckled into his mouth and padlocked onto his lower face had prevented him from attracting Will’s attention while the latter was so deep in thought. It suddenly occurred to Will that perhaps Corey had seen what had happened to the kitchen knives and was trying to tell him. But Corey was unable to get any coherent words out, and with his ball gag padlocked on there was no way for Will to remove the damned thing off of him so that Corey could explain in words he could comprehend.

In fact Corey had disposed of the knives himself; being a conscientious boy who was used to doing most of the kitchen chores at home. He had placed all of the knives in the kitchen (most of which looked like they’d used earlier today eating dinner) inside the dish-washing machine for cleaning. The freshly-washed knives were still in there; a place the normally chore-avoidance mindset of Will’s would never think of looking for them!

Corey was trying to nod his head toward the dish-washing machine. By ill luck however, this was also more of less the same direction as the elevator car, from which the sounds of its arrival at the first floor could now clearly be heard even in the kitchen. Will therefore completely misunderstood the meaning of the message Corey was now trying to convey; interpreting it as a warning that their enemies were coming and that Will should now get away while he still could.

Will hated himself for thinking it, but he decided that discretion was the better part of valor. He hurried over to the laptop that still sat opened and its screen lighted on the kitchen counter. The display was still set for the front gate controls. With a single mouse-click Will set the front gate to start opening. He then cleared the gate controls from the screen so that no one not knowing the password could shut them again – preventing his enemies from blocking off his escape before he could get through them, get outside the grounds, and try to find some help. He then hit shut down and closed the laptop lid to further forestall any attempts by his oncoming enemies to figure out what he was up to. It was likely they would never notice that the computer had been turned off.

Will even made it as far as the kitchen door leading outside when he stopped himself. No, he absolutely refused to run away from a fight! This was his house! A friend of his was still tied up just a few feet away, and would face the brunt of his enemies’ fury when they noticed that Will had gotten away! And then there were his friends Paul and John, his little cousin Andy, and his new friend Matt. How could he just run away and leave them here? Even if he got away, where could he go to get help at this time of night? And how would he explain to his parents later how this fiasco ever got started?!

But the final straw was that accursed gag! He could not admit even to himself that he’d rather die right here and now rather than be caught dead with that thrice-damned penis gag locked onto his face! He could endure the idea of captivity and endless torture for himself and even for the others… but having any potential rescuers see that penis gag locked onto his face? And then tell everyone else about it? No… no… a thousand times no! Better to endure perpetual captivity and torture than public disgrace like *that*!

Gritting his teeth (until he remembered what was stuck inside his mouth and desisted) and mustering his courage, Will turned again and faced into the kitchen; waiting for his enemies to enter from the hallway door opposite him. He could hear them coming, as they were not trying for stealth anymore. Tank and Brandon’s voices could be heard plainly as they talked with each other and laughed over some joke Will had not heard.

In addition, he could hear the clanking of several sets of chains; evidently the two slaves Dirk had brought here with him were also approaching. Even in chains, those two would have considerable freedom of movement and could make a difference in a fight. Tank and Brandon Will would probably take in even single-handed and unarmed. But would those other two side with Will… or with their master’s friends?

Corey alternately looked at Will as if he were crazy and then back in the direction of the door beyond which their captors were steadily approaching; slowed down by the fact that two of them were hobbled. He glared at Will and tried once more to urge him to open the dish-washing machine and grab a carving knife. But Will could not understand him and simply ignored him; his attention entirely focused on the far kitchen door that his enemies would pass through at any second. Will backed up slightly and stopped just outside the kitchen door so that the others could not easily surround and overwhelm him. He then adopted a karate stance and mentally prepared himself.

The hallway door swung open and Tank strode boldly in; laughing and looking backward at Brandon as his friend followed him in. It was Brandon was first noticed that something unexpected had happened. He yelled and thrust out a finger in sudden warning. Badly startled, it took Tank a moment to react and turn his head forward again. He did a classic double take as he noticed Will standing just outside facing them while Corey was still gagged and securely tied in his chair.

Will might have looked quite imposing if it weren’t for that accursed penis gag padlocked to his face! Its discomfort was bad enough; but it also made him look utterly ridiculous!

Everyone stood (except Corey, who sat) stock still and completely silent for a moment. Tank, Brandon, Bill and Ted did so out of sheer surprise bordering on shock. Will did so in preparation for the expected onslaught and felt like wasting no words. Corey simply remained immobile and silent because he was still tightly tied to his chair and gagged and therefore had no other options.

“Get him!” Tank bellowed as he charged straight at Will like a bull; almost barreling over the hapless Corey in the process. Brandon was right behind him, while Bill and Ted came on as fast as they could but were greatly slowed down by their hobbles. Only the barest bit of luck kept Corey – who of course could not move even an inch out of the way - from getting knocked over chair and all in the sudden rush. As it was, he got tipped over at an alarming angle and teetered for a long agonizing moment before he fell back to his former position to sit upright (and trembling violently) once again.

Lacking the wits to remember that they were armed with Tasers (which at the moment hung in their protective holsters clipped to their belts) and lacking the martial arts skills that Will possessed, Tank and Brandon simply barreled into Will as if they were playing Rugby or American Football with him and Will had the ball. At least; that is what they *tried* to do. But Will stepped backward and to one side as Tank rushed in, and tripped him with his foot as the red-headed thug blundered on past him. When Brandon came on full-tilt just behind Tank, Will pivoted to face away from him, grabbed an out-flung arm, turned his entire body, and heaved – sending Brandon ass-over-teakettle over him to land heavily almost directly on top of his friend as he was staggering to his feet.

But now the slaves Bill and Ted tackled Will from behind while he still faced his first two opponents. Although hobbled, they were skilled at moving rapidly even while so fettered - at least for brief spurts – and had reached Will quicker than he had expected. As Will had expected, they immediately sided with their own master’s friends. What Will had not expected was that they seemed more skilled at fighting than Tank and Brandon were, and even used their own fetters as weapons against him!

Ted got in behind Will and looped his manacled wrists down over Will’s head; looping the chain connecting the metal bands on his wrists around Will’s vulnerable throat in a literal choke hold. Bill managed to do something similar with Will’s right arm; trapping it in his own chain as he pulled backward and entangled Will’s arm for a few precious seconds. By themselves they would have been no match for Will of course, but all they were trying to do was give Tank and Brandon time to regroup and take advantage of their distraction, and in this they succeeded admirably.

Before Will could throw off the two wiry blond youths, Tank and Brandon charged him together. Will had lost the advantage of standing at a doorway where his foes could not rush him, and now he was surrounded. Tank swept a leg at the back of Will’s legs while the two slave boys were both pulling him backwards; causing Will to topple almost flat on his back. Tank and Brandon then swarmed down upon him and pinned him down lying on his belly, with the willing aid of the two slave boys. With four boys pinning him down, Will was rendered almost completely helpless.

Not being called Indomitable Will for nothing, Will continued to struggle anyway. But Tank and Brandon were never without remedies for such problems as this. While the others continued to hold Will down (Bill and Ted straddling his legs and Tank straddling his buttocks and holding Will’s wrists pinioned behind his back), Brandon grabbed a cloth from one pocket and a small bottle from the other, tipped some of the contents of the bottle onto the cloth, and then shoved the moistened cloth hard against Will’s lower face. Will’s struggles quickly weakened and, within seconds, he went limp altogether.

“Bastard must have managed to undo the ropes when we weren’t looking,” Brandon groused to Tank as the other boys stood up. “How the hell are going to keep this punk from escaping again when we go to sleep or something if we can’t trust him to stay tied up like a decent captive?”

“That’s easy,” Tank replied as he turned to face Bill. “You! Go get one of those papoose boards Vic gave us and bring it here!”

Bill gave a deep bow of his head in respect and hurried into the house to comply; moving as fast as his hobbles would allow him to. It took him a couple of minutes to return as the requested item had been stowed in the Recreation Room, his handcuffed wrists made carrying anything large unwieldy, and his hobbles made running impossible (instead he walked in small but very quick steps). However, after a while he came back out of the kitchen dragging a strange device with him.

“I’ll bet my bottom dollar he’ll never get out of this thing unassisted,” Tank bragged.

The Papoose board looked like a gigantic white butterfly, with its central body (about the shape of an ironing board but twice the length) flanked by a set of six separate wings. They were specifically designed to solve the frustrating problem of temporarily restraining injured, frightened adults (there were different sizes for children and younger teenagers as well) for medical or dental treatment. Even a struggling, frantic child could be completely immobilized in less than 60 seconds on a Papoose Board; an unconscious Will would require less than half of that. Then, while the patient was securely and safely held, the physician could expose any part of the child's body for examination or treatment. This was of course a handy feature for would-be captors as well; and one which Tank and Brandon fully intended to take advantage of.

Papoose Boards worked on the proven splint principle of binding the child to a rigid board to suppress struggling. The board is quickly and easily applied using three sets of opposing canvas flaps with Velcro fasteners that fold over the captive's body. The diagonal shape of each board causes the flaps to crisscross, providing a snug-fitting restraint. Separate arm straps held each arm. In addition, an adjustable strap can be used to immobilize the captive's head.

Optional Head immobilizers and Arm immobilizers were also available, and were immediately applied. By the time they were finished, Will looked like an adolescent Christ on the Cross (or would if Jesus were wrapped up in his infant swaddling clothes again) with his arms secured to an immobilizing board that ran at right angles to the main body of the board.

Papoose Boards were supposedly less alarming than other types of restraint, though anyone Tank had previously used it on might have begged to differ. When used for legitimate emergency purposes, the patient (usually but not always a child) would be immobilized so quickly and firmly that futile struggling is discouraged. Unlike manual restraints, the Papoose Board does not cast the caregiver in the role of being the child's antagonist. The child is held safely, cannot escape, and is protected from self -injury.

All well and good under current circumstances as well, of course. Tank and Brandon did not want Will to injure himself; they wanted to have the honor of injuring him – hopefully nice and slowly but eventually devastatingly - all to themselves! Struggling was definitely discouraged! And Tank and Brandon were proud to be cast in the roles of Will’s antagonists!

Selective restraint was a unique Papoose Board feature. Any of the pairs of flaps may be opened while the captive is still held securely by the remaining flaps and/or head and arm straps. This permits the exposure of any area of the captive's body while maintaining restraint and control. Brandon and Tank had some definite ideas about how to use that particular feature; ideas that would have terrified Will had he been conscious and known about them. Of course, Will would revive shortly, and they had no intention of leaving him in the dark about their plans for him for long!

Tank already had a ready speech in mind about how he was going to play with Will (in the most evil sense of the word) at leisure while Will was fully aware but still completely helpless to resist! Brandon, meanwhile, was thinking more along the lines of creative surgery using only simple tools (like steak knives) and no anesthetic! He might even try his hand at acupuncture; only the goal would be to cause pain rather than eliminate it!

Will groggily regained consciousness just as Tank and Brandon indicated to Bill and Ted to lift their re-secured prisoner up and haul him back into the house. Will was too large and heavy for the two of them alone to carry him very far however, and Tank had to help them as well. They carried a reviving and now feebly-struggling Will (who had made the unenviable simile to being crucified all by himself even with his captors’ taunts) up to the kitchen door, where they immediately (and quite literally) ran into a problem; Will’s immobilized and widely-outstretched arms would not fit through the narrow door.

It took a moment for the befuddled Tank and Brandon to come up with a solution. Bill and Ted had thought of one immediately but were unable to communicate their ideas to the others, and likely would have said nothing without orders even had they not been gagged. However, eventually Brandon thought of the same idea himself. They simply tipped Will onto his side so that his arms pointed up and down instead of side to side. It was easy to haul him through the door then, and as an added bonus it was obviously even more uncomfortable for Will to be held that way. Fortunately for Will, it was also far more awkward to carry him that way and they righted him to a horizontal level position again as soon as his arms cleared the doorway.

Tank and Brandon marched triumphantly into the kitchen, where Tank and the two slave-boys laud Will on top of the large kitchen table for the time being. It creaked a trifle, but it was large and sturdily built, and accommodated Will’s body weight without noticeable trouble after a moment of creaking and some slight trembling.

Will’s captors rested; catching their breath while they checked Corey over very carefully to make sure he did require immediate attention (and punishment) as well.

“You’re still tied good and tight. That’s a good thing for you!” Tank said to Corey as he gently patted Corey’s cheek as if he was petting a dog that had just performed a trick on command. “That means we won’t have to take you back to the attic for a while. As a reward, I’ll even remove that ball gag for you for a while and give you some water and a bite to eat. See? We know how to reward good behavior as well as punish the bad. Make sure you remember that!” Although seemingly aimed at Corey, Tank turned his head and looked at Will when he said that last sentence.

Tank fetched a clean glass from a cabinet (though he’d as soon grabbed a dirty one had one been on hand, but the fastidious Corey had placed all those in the dishwasher early in the evening) and filled it with cold water from the tap. He then walked over to the table, placed it on the edge in front of Corey, and then stepped behind Corey to remove his gag; unlocking the padlock that held it in place.

Corey was so relieved to get that gag out he even said a barely audible “Thanks” to his captor as Tank held the glass of water to his lips and drink Corey drink at his own pace. He momentarily considered spitting the water back in Tank’s face, decided his mouth was too dry and badly needed the moisture, and swallowed it instead. Besides, while Tank was willing to let him drink in peace, he could get more water and not be subjected either to a re-application of the gag nor any retaliation Tank thought of had he given way to his original foolish intent.

“Shouldn’t we get this jerk up to the attic?” Brandon groused as he glared down at the helpless Will; who simply glared angrily right back at him. “I want to start making his life a living hell!”

“We’ve got plenty of time!” Tank retorted; “and I’m bushed from lugging that punk in here! I could use a bite to eat and something to drink too. And I want to catch up on old times with my old buddy Corey here. But if you’re in such a big hurry, go on ahead without me and I’ll catch up to you later.”

“Alright, suit yourself,” Brandon replied somewhat ungraciously. “Come on you two, let’s get our package here upstairs and then you can assist Tank afterward.”

Bill and Ted nodded respectfully in response (their gags totally preventing any verbal acknowledgment) and grabbed Will’s papoose to slide him off the table. This time Brandon helped instead of Tank, and the three of them staggered out of the kitchen with their heavy and still writhing burden. It was difficult to get him out of the kitchen for the same reason it was difficult to get him in of course, but the same solution as before worked here as well. Again however Will was tilted to his side only for the time it took to clear his spread-out arms past the narrow doorway.

“Now we can have a nice quiet chat for a while,” Tank said to Corey in a deceptively friendly tone of voice. “So, what would you like to eat? Looks like you guys have lots of munchies in the pantry here. So what’s your pleasure? Pop tarts? Potato Chips? A bowl of cereal? Name it, and I’ll get it. I’m feeling generous at the moment.”

Corey resisted the overwhelming impulse to insult Tank in any of the hundred or so ways that had flown into his head over the last few minutes. Being somewhat hungry as well as thirsty now, and seeing no point in further antagonizing his captor, he politely asked for a pair of pop tarts – untoasted. They were tastier (at least to Corey) and would be much less humiliating to be hand-fed with than, say, a bowl of cereal anyway.

“Pop tarts it is,” Tank agreed verbally as he found a box (strawberry frosting flavored), pulled out a foil-wrapped pair, and set it on the table. Then he grabbed two glasses, opened the refrigerator, found a jug of orange juice, and filled both glasses with it. He then sat down in a chair right beside Corey, set the glasses of orange juice down, and picked up the foil containing the pop-tarts. He opened it, broke off a piece of pop-tart, and held it out to his captive’s mouth with a wide but not especially evil smile. He was happy with the situation but at least kept his gloating to a minimum.

Wary of a trick, Corey gingerly took the piece into his mouth and began to chew on it. But Tank seemed to be in a mellow mood now and simply fed Corey another piece of pop-tart before offering him a sip of orange juice.

“Bet you never expected something like this to happen when you got me fired from my job, did you?” Tank asked Corey with mild sarcasm.
“I didn’t get you fired,” Corey retorted in self-defense. “I had nothing to do with you losing your job. That was mom and dad’s decision, not mine.”

“You took my job, didn’t you?” Tank replied somewhat acidly.

“You think I *wanted* it?!” Corey groused. “Again, that was mom and dad’s decision. Anyway, that was just temporary until they hired someone else. They got a new pool boy now, so I was allowed to quit. Good riddance to that crummy job! I’m free now!” He paused to reflect, and then added sourly, “or at least, I *was* free!”

But Tank was so convinced that Corey had had everything to do with his misfortunes in losing his job (and opportunities to case each place he cleaned the pools for later burglaries) that he stubbornly refused to believe Corey. And yet, the smallest worm of doubt had now been formed in his heart; and it began to slowly, gradually to eat away at him from the inside. But for the time being at least, nothing had changed. He was still firmly determined to punish Corey for making him lose his pool job, but such punishment could wait for a more opportune time. It was getting time to rejoin the others.

Tank finished feeding Corey the pop tarts (eating two more for himself while he was doing so) and allowed him to finish his glass of juice. He then picked up the ball gag with the intention of locking it back onto Corey’s face, paused, and then – in a momentary and uncharacteristic spasm of mercy and sympathy – simply stuffed it into his knapsack instead. Corey had no way of calling for help anyway, and he certainly wasn’t about to go outside to look for any.

Of course, it wouldn't do to leave Corey without any gag at all. And so Tank found the dirtiest dishcloth he could find without more than a casual search and stuffed it inside Corey's mouth. Corey knew better than to resist, as he recognized that it was this or the previous gag - and he much preferred this one. The cloth was sealed over with the usual generous application of duct tape; rendering Corey reasonably effectively (and not too uncomfortably) gagged.

“I’ll come get you around breakfast time,” Tank told Corey as he picked up all the other discarded ropes and bondage gear off the floor (or wherever else they had fallen) and stuffed them all into his knapsack. He made sure he left nothing behind except for Corey and his own restraints and put the knapsack on. “Be good, and maybe I’ll take it easy on you.” Tank told his lightly-gagged but still securely tied prisoner as he gave him a jaunty wave and then walked out of the kitchen.

Corey looked at the departing Tank, and then at the wide-open kitchen door leading outside. But what would normally be only a few steps away might as well be on the moon now for all his current ability to access it. Corey was stuck but good! With a dismal sigh, Corey hung his head until the underside of his chin rested against his bare chest. He just sat there; not wasting time or energy in a futile effort to free himself. He had given up, and morosely awaited his fate.

Tired by his recent experiences and feeling hopeless, Corey was soon fast asleep.

Part 62.


John and Andy didn’t know exactly what to expect when they saw the elevator doors open, but they were certain at least some of the intruders were returning with at least one of their friends they had captured downstairs in tow. So they were not too surprised when the doors slid apart and they saw Will being held captive by Brandon, Bill and Ted. However, they were not expecting the method by which they’d kept Will restrained, since they had not seen the Papoose Boards unloaded from the van and carried into the house.

This is not what made them hesitate in firing their weapons, however. Instead, it was the sight of Will crucified to his Papoose Board in an upright position right in front of everyone else who was with him inside the elevator car. Will’s body and the board he was bound to almost completely blocked any chance of John and Andy getting a good clean shot at Will’s captors. In fact, they could not fire under these circumstances without an unacceptable risk of hitting Will himself. If both Taser charges were to hit him at once, the results could be catastrophic for him.

Unfortunately, Will’s captors grasped the altered situation almost immediately and ducked behind Will so that they were even less exposed than they were initially. Even more unfortunately, Brandon was armed with a Taser of his own. His only gave him one shot before needing a reload and recharging, but with three enemies and only two targets, one shot was all they needed to tip the balance completely in their favor. Even had Tank come back up with the others, the outcome for Will’s captors could hardly have been more favorable.

Andy and John had taken immediate cover behind the nearby sofa, which thankfully kept both Matt and Paul out of the line of fire. It was a stand-off, but not a stable one. Andy presented a very small and agile target, but one charge that would only stun an adult could quite conceivably kill him outright. John was not too concerned for himself, but Andy’s life and health were not things that he was willing to gamble with. There was also Will’s vulnerable position to consider; if his captors threatened to hurt him…

This thought evidently occurred to Brandon at virtually the same time. He placed the business end of his Taser against Will’s temple. “You two… drop your weapons and kick them over here! Now!! Do it; or your buddy here gets it! If need be, we can shut the elevator door against you and torture the crap out of him until you comply!”

“You do that, and we’ll torture your friends here at the same time,” John asserted; doing his best to sound bold, determined, and perfectly willing to carry out such a threat. It sounded like an empty threat even in his own ears however; let alone in Brandon’s. He just didn’t have the nerve to even seriously contemplate such a thing; let alone actually do it. His somewhat squeaky, high-pitched voice and generally mild temperament didn’t help him to sound all too convincing either.

“Even if you dared to – which I doubt – I can do lots more grief to your buddy in a shorter time than you can to mine,” he snarled in a tone that clearly indicated that he meant just what he said. The fact that John and Andy had Tasers of their own with which to torture his allies didn’t occur to him. Unfortunately, it didn’t occur to John or Andy either. And even if it had, it would have been pure (and totally unconvincing) bluff. It was obvious to everyone that Brandon had far more tatse in torturing people than they did. In addition, they cared about the welfare of their friends more than Brandon evidently cared about the welfare of his.

John and Andy exchanged worried glances. Both read in the other’s face the same feelings that roiled inside their own brains; regardless of the consequences to themselves, they could not let any harm come to Will. If only Will were not being used as a human shield, it would be different; but as things stood, neither boy saw any option but to give themselves up.

John and Andy slowly bent down, gently set their Taser weapons down on the floor, and gently kicked them toward the elevator car. The Tasers tumbled along the floor, which was too rough to allow them to slide over, and clattered to a stop just outside the car. Brandon directed Bill and Ted to stoop down and pick the weapons up, while he remained behind Will’s papoose and kept his human shield propped upright so that Will would not fall over. Bill and Ted offered Brandon the weapons, which he accepted. With their wrists still chained together (even if with a long thick chain that gave them over twenty inches of slack), Ted and Bill could not hold the weapons themselves and still use their hands to do the work of carrying Will and his papoose board along by themselves. Besides, weapons definitely did not beong in the hands of slaves, who might sooner or later get unwise ideas about using them on their own initiative.

Making sure the safeties were on, Brandon stuck the confiscated Tasers casually into his jacket pocket and stepped out from behind Will; still pointing his own Taser at John and Andy. “Now, where the hell did *you* two come from?” he asked out loud. Then he looked more closely at John’s lack of attire (he still wore only a Speedo and nothing else), and his experienced eyes noticed the faded but still distinctive signs of a recent tie-up along his wrists, ankles, and even along his torso. “Oh, I get it now,” Brandon added with an uncanny feeling of near prescience. “You were also tied up somewhere we missed searching, and the little kid managed to keep hidden from us. Is that it?”

“What are you gonna do with us?” Andy asked Brandon boldly; not bothering to answer Brandon’s own possibly-rhetorical question.

“Good question,” Brandon mused as he walked out of the elevator car with more confidence and looked carefully around; assuring himself that there were no other allies of Will’s he didn’t know about who might be waiting to ambush him. He noticed Dirk locked inside the cage (he was no longer writhing but was still apparently in a good deal of discomfort) and then Sal and Vic lying semi-unconscious on the floor; hog-tied with handcuffs and ankle-cuffs of a design he did not recognize. “Where the Hell did you two punks get the hardware you locked onto my friends?”

Andy shrugged his shoulders noncommittally, as if finding handcuffs and ankle-cuffs laying around wasn’t at all unusual – and perhaps it wasn’t all that unusual in *this* house, Brandon thought to himself. John simply gazed silently back at Brandon without any expression on his face at all.

“Well, we can find that out later,” Brandon snapped. “For now, just get those things off of them!”

John and Andy looked at each other in mild puzzlement as both came to a sudden realization independently at the same time. Then they faced Brandon again with wide and mocking grins on their faces.

“Uhhh… actually we never found the keys to those things,” John told Brandon with a grin too wide and confident to admit the possibility of a deception.

“Wha-at?” Brandon almost yelled in disbelief. “Don’t hand me that guff! You wouldn’t use cuffs you didn’t have the keys to unlock them with on people!”

“Not on our friends, we wouldn’t!” John amended. “But on you guys? Sure we would!”

Brandon had no ready answer for that, so he simply shrugged it off. “Well, get them out of those hogties you put them into anyway,” he snapped. “They’ll at least be able to move around a little bit then! And get Dirk out of that cage!”

At this, Bill and Ted looked over at the cage with alarm; up until that moment they had not noticed their own master’s plight. Laying Will’s papoose down on the floor (face down, much to Will’s annoyance), both of the slave boys suddenly rushed to the cage as fast as their hobbles would allow them to go. Reaching it, they squatted down beside the cage and reached into the cage; trying to soothe and comfort their master as best they could. They showed as much concern for him as a dog would with its particular owner.

John knew where the key to the cage was; he’d hidden it under one of the cushions of the sofa after ducking for cover. But seeing that Brandon had no way to know this, John put on his pocket face and lied, “I don’t know where the key to that is, either.”

Brandon swore luridly but let it go for the moment. He had the upper hand now, and he’d get the keys and all the answers to his other questions out of these brats even if he had to beat them out of them. In fact, he thought to himself with a sinister grin, he’d probably would even *prefer* to beat the answers out of them! “Just get Sal and Vic out of those hog-ties!” he snapped at his two new captives. “And get those gags off of them.”

By this time both Sal and Vic were conscious and struggling to get to their feet. Both were still weak from the Taser shocks that they had received, but they were recovering rapidly, but having their wrists cuffed behind their backs and their feet hobbled still made arising rather difficult. It didn’t help their dispositions any either. It was even worse for Dirk, as he was still locked inside the cage. However, he was still in so much discomfort from the kick in the groin he’d received that he wasn’t interested in moving around much in any case.

Seeing no other choice, Andy and John reluctantly complied with Brandon’s order to remove the gags. But, perhaps feeling a need to get a little of his own back, John wasn’t even remotely gentle about removing the sticky tape gags of their faces. With an uncharacteristically evil grin, he simply tore them off in one pull apiece.

RIIIII-IIIIPPP!!! RIIIIII-IIIIIIPP!!!

Sal and Vic in turn screamed at that; or tried to – the socks their mouths were stuffed with prevented them from making much noise. Moreover, they were unable to spit the foul things out of their mouths and, their hands cuffed behind them, as well, had to suffer the further indignity of having John remove the obstructions from their mouths.

As John had ripped their tape gags off before releasing their hog-ties, there was little either Sal or Vic could do about it; for now. But the way each glared at John promised dire consequences for him in the future; once they got their hands free.

Sal’s hogtie was easy to release. Vic had been hog-tied using a set of his own handcuffs as the connection line. However, he still had his keys for these, and so at least John was able (reluctantly) to free him from his restraints this much. But with their ankles still hobbled and his wrists cuffed behind him, Vic and Sal were somehow threatening and yet comical at the same time. For the moment, neither were a direct threat; but the situation was definitely deteriorating badly.

“All right, enough with the fun and games,” Vic roared after Brandon briefly explained the situation to him. “You two punks show me where you found these damned things, or you’ll be sorry you were ever born. And I’ll start by having Bill and Ted here start pounding on the little kid here! Is that what you want to have happen? Maybe tie him down on the bed lying face up and have them jump up and down on top of him like a trampoline?!”

“All right! You win!” John told him. “We’ll show you where we found the cuffs. But we honestly don’t know where the keys are! We never saw them.”

“We’d better hope we find them, for your sake!” Sal snapped. “Bill, Ted; tie those two up and then keep these other creeps under guard.”

The slave-boys ignored him; their attention was fully fixed on the caged and still stricken master. Vic called their names more forcefully, but they paid him no heed. Vic’s face began t turn red, and then he snapped, “Dirk!”

“Do as he says, slaves,” Dirk spoke in a groaning but still-strong voice. “Bind the others, and keep the captives under guard.”

The slaves nodded, stood up, bowed deeply to their master Dirk, turned to face Vic and bowed again to Vic (not so deeply or carefully this time) and approached John and Andy with ropes in their hands. John and Andy made no effort to resist as the two slave-boys quickly and efficiently tied their hands behind their back, fashioned loose rope hobbles with about 20 inches of slack, and then made rope leashes around their necks. Both leashes were held by Brandon in one hand while he held his Taser pointed at Andy with the other. “One funny move and I shoot the kid with this,” he warned. “Odds are that would kill a kid his size. So don’t make me do it. Now march!”

John and Andy walked over to the steps leading down from the attic to the third floor, followed by Brandon. Vic and Sal, still hobbled and with their hands cuffed behind them, nonetheless followed so that they could take immediate advantage of when the keys to their bonds happened to be found. It was not easy walking down the stairs with their hobbles however; there was too little slack to allow them to simply step down them. They ultimately had to sit down at the top of the steps and bobble down on their posteriors one step at a time until they reached the bottom.

Bill and Ted watched the others go, and then walked back to where Will, Paul, and Matt were; the latter two standing to either side of the papoose-bound Will. The slave-boys walked up to Will’s papoose board, flipped him over onto his back, and dragged him safely out of kicking range of the other two captives. Matt and Paul’s legs were free but their arms were still trapped by the manacles that dangled from the ceiling beam; preventing them from walking more than a pace or two in any direction.

Once they were well outside the other two boys’ potential kicking range, Bill and Ted promptly sat down sideways on top of Will (one on his chest, the other on his belly) and watched the other two captives carefully. What they could have done if either Matt or Paul could have gotten loose was anyone’s guess; shackled and hobbled as they were. But as things stood, they clearly had the upper hand.

Will looked up at the two boys sitting on top of him and tried to communicate with them. This was rendered extremely difficult by the fact that the penis gag locked onto his face rendered his words virtually incomprehensible. Bill and Ted were also gagged (with ball gags rather than penis gags, but these were just as effective), and in addition made no attempt to respond to Will’s attempts at talking with them. But they both looked at him; Bill on Will’s stomach bending forward so he could see Will’s head past his brother’s body where he sat on Will’s chest; his arms wrapped around his knees and his wrist shackles draped over his lanky skins.

Taking their attention as a hopeful sign, Will breathed deep and tried to enunciate as clearly and as carefully as he could. “Why do you side with your captors?” he began to tell them. “Help us instead. You’d be far happier and better off if you were with us. We’ll treat you right.”

Of course, Will’s speech would have been incomprehensible to most people. But Bill and Ted were far more experienced in speaking (and trying to understand) gag talk than most people. It took some effort on their part as well as Will’s, but they soon understood everything Will was trying to say to them. They exchanged glances and began to talk to each other through their gags; understanding each other clearly through long practice.

Downstairs, Andy and John led Brandon, Vic, and Sal down the stairway leading from the attic into the hallway on the third floor. They walked straight down the end of it into Mr. Power’s office. “Hey, I remember this place,” Brandon exclaimed after a moment. “Tank and I checked in here when we searched the house. Everything was locked up tight, and we couldn’t find anything of any use.” He spotted the wide-open safe, and grinned sourly. “Looks like you guys had better luck. What’s left in there? No, stay the hell away from that! *I’ll* look!”

Keeping a wary eye on John and Andy, even though he still held their leashes inside his hand, Brandon sidled over to the safe and looked inside. Inside were several more handcuffs and ankle-cuffs like those that Sal and Vic now wore. There was also something that looked like an Android Tablet, only somehow sleeker-looking and a set of controls on it in addition to the usual miniature keyboard.

Brandon picked the thing up and looked it over. “What the hell is this thing?” he asked.

Andy and John shrugged their shoulders; they had no idea. “I was so excited at finding the cuffs before, I didn’t even see *that* thing in there before,” Andy admitted.

Brandon gave him a sour look and idly flipped what was evidently the power button. The screen on the thing lit up. There was a logo depicting a set of handcuffs identical to the strange sets Sal and Vic wore and the words Shocking Cuffs Inc. Below that were the words Active Equipment. Below this was the following list:

Item Status Settings Pharmica
Handcuffs Set 1: inactive 100% Charged tranquilizer standard dose
Handcuffs Set 2: locked 100% Charged tranquilizer standard dose
Handcuffs Set 3: inactive 100% Charged empty
Handcuffs Set 4: locked 100% Charged tranquilizer standard dose
Handcuffs Set 5: inactive 100% Charged tranquilizer standard dose
Handcuffs Set 6: locked 0% Charged empty
Leg-cuffs Set 1: locked 100% Charged paralytic agent standard dose
Leg-cuffs Set 2: locked 100% Charged paralytic agent standard dose
Leg-cuffs Set 3: inactive 60% Charged paralytic agent standard dose
Leg-cuffs Set 4: inactive 80% Charged paralytic agent standard dose
Leg-cuffs Set 5: locked 100% Charged paralytic agent standard dose
Leg-cuffs Set 6: inactive 0% Charged empty

Below this list was some kind of status board:

Item Command
Handcuffs Set 1 2 3 4 5 6 All active Units
Lock
Unlock
Release Shock
Release Chemical Agent
Reset Proximity Alarm
Leg-cuffs Set 1 2 3 4 5 6 All activate Units
Lock
Unlock
Release Shock
Release Chemical Agent
Reset Proximity Alarm

The numbers were each a separate link, as were the five commands on the right.

Will would have known what this tablet was displaying at once. Andy and John would have had a pretty good idea as well; enough to have taken advantage of the situation were the tablet in either of their hands. Vic and Sal might have have figured out the controls almost immediately as well, but like Andy and John could not see the screen display from where they stood. In addition, they had no idea that the restraints they that wore had either electronic release mechanisms nor that they could do more than merely restrain their users. Brandon, on the other hand, had no idea that what he was holding was exactly the means of releasing his friends that he was looking for and began to play around with the thing.

By sheer chance, he selected the All Active Units tab for the Leg-Cuffs and then the Release Chemical Agent command. He didn’t even notice the red blinking confirmation light on the tablet because the sound of Sal and Vic’s simultaneously exclamations of surprise and discomfort immediately drew his attention away from it. He looked up, to see both of his friends suddenly staggering as if drunk.

“What’s happened?” Brandon exclaimed in sudden concern as he set the tablet down on top of the safe. “What’s wrong?”

“Something from these ankle-cuffs stung me on the ankle,” Vic hissed, as if finding it very difficult to talk if not breathe. His eyes were clenched tight in discomfort, and he was reeling even more unsteadily than he had a moment ago.

“Me too!” Sal added with a moan. “I think I’m… passing… ooouuuuuu…”

Sal and Vic collapsed to the floor simultaneously; their bodies as limp as those of rag dolls.

Panicking, Brandon dropped his hold on John and Andy’s leashes and ran to Vic’s side; crouching down to look him over. Vic still seemed to be breathing normally enough If somewhat shallowly, but he was out like a light. It was as if he’d had too much to drink, but Brandon was sure his friend was stone-cold sober a moment ago. He absolutely could not understand it.

Brandon was so dazed, he didn’t realize that his two captives had gotten behind him until it was too late. He felt a tug at his belt. Alarmed and suddenly remembering his circumstances, Brandon looked up and stared at them with shock. Not only had they somehow gotten their hands free, but John was now holding his own Taser on him!

“Sorry pal,” John said to him almost contritely. “I’d rather not have to do this, but I think you and your friends will be easier to deal with if you take a nap right alongside your friends.”

And with that, John shot Brandon with the Taser. Brandon fell to the floor in a limp heap.

“Well, that wasn’t as hard as I thought,” Andy exclaimed happily as he took the rope leash off from around his neck. He immediately found one of the unused sets of shock handcuffs and clapped them on the unconscious Brandon’s wrists after pulling them behind his back. “Good thing those slave-boys suck at tying knots.”

“I’m not so sure it was a case of lack of skill,” John replied as he removed his own rope leash and untied the rope hobbles around his feet. “I have the feeling that they tied us loosely on purpose.”

“You do? Why?” Andy asked as Andy applied the ankle-cuffs to their former captor, and then grabbed his former rope leash and secured Vic into as tight a hogtie as he could manage with it.

“Just a feeling,” John replied. “Maybe they knew how we feel and felt sorry for us. Either that or…” and here he grinned widely as he considered how he might have felt in the slave-boys’ places, “maybe they didn’t want the competition for their master’s attention.”

“Well, let’s figure out later,” Andy said as he finished hog-tying the now-semi-conscious Brandon, took one of the other ropes he’d been tied with, and proceeded to put Sal into a hogtie as well. “First, we’ve got to put these guys back on ice and help Will.”

“You stay here and finish tying up these three,” John told him as he dug into Brandon’s jacket pocket and retrieved his and Andy’s Tasers. “Make sure they can’t move at all! We don’t want them getting the upper hand again. Meanwhile, I’ll go see about Will. Besides, there’s still one more of these jerks on the loose. Here, do you want one of these?” he asked, offering Andy back his Taser.

“Naw, I’ve got this,” Andy exclaimed happily as he picked up the Android tablet. “If any of these guys wake up and start to give me trouble, I’ll just zap ‘em! And if the slave-boys aren’t really on our side and help that last guy, you might need both Tasers yourself. Go on; I’ll be fine here. Besides, I’ve got to find some gags for these guys. I wonder if Will’s gag has any special electronically-powered gags stored in here somewhere.”

This last was said with a growing look of mischievousness on his handsome young face. It would have been disquieting to his mother could she have seen it, but to John it didn’t seem to be at all out of place. “Good luck finding any,” he told Andy as he prepared to leave. He was tempted to ask Andy to save one for John himself if he found any such gags, but decided it wasn’t necessary. Andy would likely do that anyway.

Before leaving, John carefully searched Vic, Sal, and Brandon’s pockets; retrieving all of the keys each boy was carrying. Hopefully one of these would free Matt and Paul from the shackles that tethered them by their wrists to the ceiling beam.

John looked cautiously out the door before leaving the office to make sure no one else was approaching. Seeing that the hallway was still deserted, and hearing no one at all other than Andy, John stepped out of the office and carefully walked down the hallway toward the attic. Just as he reached the foot of the stairs leading upward, he heard the elevator car passing the third going up the nearby elevator shaft. Someone was heading to the attic and would arrive there at any moment!

John hurried up the stairs to take in the situation at a glance, and was very surprised by what he saw…

And another cliffhanger! Well, this has been a rollecoaster as, admittedly for a moment, I thought the boys were really screwed up, only for them to turn the tables on their captors once more. Now the question is what side are the twins gonna take?

Yep, wasn't sure about those intruders at first but it's been constantly intense since they've joined the (freak)show, with unexpected and clever back and forths in who has the upper hand.
Also forgot to comment then, but that master/slave contract from a few chapters back was quite well trussed up.

These cliffhangers are killing me. Or maybe it's the heat.

blackbound wrote: 6 years ago These cliffhangers are killing me. Or maybe it's the heat.

Well, here's some relief.
Oops... and another cliffhanger.

Part 63.

With a little more practice, Will was able to communicate with his two captive-captors in gag-speak with less difficulty than most other people would have had. “Help us,” he pleaded with the twins. “Help me. I promise you that we’ll do everything we can to free you and resume a normal life.”

“We don’t want to be free,” Bill told Will. “Not in the sense that you mean. We want to remain with our master, Dirk. But Dirk himself is not free. He owes Vic something. We do not know what he owes, or why. But Vic has a hold over him, and through him, us.”

“We’ll fix it,” Will promise. “I’ll break whatever hold Vic has on him and let Dirk go free, and you can go with him if you wish. I’ll help your master as much as I can… but you need to help us.”

“We will not betray our master,” Ted insisted. “He told us to serve the others, and we won’t disobey him.”

A few feet away, Dirk was silently listening from inside his cage. At that precise moment, two of his buddies downstairs were being injected with powerful tranquilizers from their leg-cuffs by remote control. The same signal now caused the same thing to happen to Dirk as well. Dirk felt a sudden sting in his leg and immediately felt woozy.

“Slaves, come here,” Dirk suddenly called to Bill and Ted; his voice sounding anguished but still clear and loud enough to easily be understood.

The two slave boys immediately stood up, hobbled over to their master as fast as they could go, and knelt in front of his cage. He looked at them with an unusual tenderness and smiled despite the pain he still felt from the impact in his groin and concern about whatever unknown thing had stung him on the leg.

“I heard everything that kid said in his gag-talk, and I think now that this situation is much different than I thought before,” Dirk told them quietly. “I was told the kids here were punks… thieves. But I think I was lied to. You two… take the keys from my belt. Take off your restraints. Get that kid out of the papoose. And help him in any way he asks you to. Do it for yourselves… and for me.”

Dirk fell silent and closed his eyes, and the drug he’d felt being injected into his leg earlier finally put him under. For Dirk at least, it was a relief from the pain in his groin.

Bill and Ted exchanged worried glances, as they had no idea what had happened to their master to cause him to fall asleep like that. Both immediately checked their master over, and found to their relief that he was merely sound asleep rather than dead. Then, remembering what he had told them, they reached into the cage with their manacled hands and grasped the keys on his belt. As Dirk had apparently slumped against the side of the cage in a way that placed his keys close to the bars, the task was not as difficult as it would have been otherwise.

It felt strange and unfamiliar to the two slave boys to use the keys to free themselves from their handcuffs, leg cuffs, and padlocked ball gags. They did so quickly; not because they wanted to be free but because their master had wished it so that they could in turn help the other boy. And so they did; although not before they paused once again to make sure that their master was not in any further distress. His pulse seemed strong and regular however, and so was his breathing. Only once they were satisfied that their master was in no immediate danger did they move to free Will from his own restraints.

It was a simple matter to free Will from the papoose, as there no locks involved. The penis gag Will still wore was a different matter, however; they didn’t have the key for that. Even so, Will was soon free to move around unfettered once again. He spent the first minute of his freedom getting himself limbered up with a few exercises in case he had to defend that new freedom at any moment – which he was certain was to be the case.

The sound of the elevator motor suddenly running proved that Will was right.

With a grim smile of satisfaction, Will planted himself directly in front of the elevator door and assumed an offensive crouch. The moment they began to slide open, he was going to charge in and overwhelm Tank before the other boy had a chance to take in the changed situation.

Will suddenly heard soft movement to either side of him and turned to look. Bill and Ted now stood to either side and slightly behind Will and were also staring fixedly at the elevator door. Each had the handcuffs and leg-cuffs he’d worn in his hands. It was immediately evident that they were going to help Will overwhelm Tank rather than stand passively by. Will was unsure how much help they would be, as he was sure he could handle tank all by himself – especially with the element of surprise on his side. But the elevator car was now almost to the attic, and Will had no desire to spoil the surprise by talking (or even whispering) to the other two boys in case Tank overheard him and took warning from it.

The elevator car reached the attic floor, slowed to a stop, and then, with a usual “Ding!” warning sound, the elevator doors slid open. Tank was starting to step out when he suddenly realized that he was in a lot of trouble. Before he could even squawk in alarm, Will plowed straight into him – sending him reeling back into the elevator car and against its rear wall with a thud. Will’s right forearm was pressed against the front of Tank’s throat while the fingers of his left hand tightly clutched Tank’s long hair.

“Just give me an excuse to beat you to a pulp!” Will snarled; his blue eyes locking Tank’s gaze to them from less than twelve inches away. Of course, the gag Will wore made his words all but incomprehensible to Tank and tended to take some of the ominousness out of his message. Despite this, Will sounded distinctly feral at that moment, and Tank’s courage bled away completely.

“I surrender!” Tank declared as his body went completely limp.

Assisted by Bill and Ted, Will turned Tank around and shoved the other boy’s face none too gently against the elevator wall. While Will held Tank roughly against the wall (one hair still grasping Tank’s long and not overly-clean hair), the twins rapidly acted to place their restraints upon their new captive. Within moments, Tank was restrained by not one but two sets of handcuffs and leg-cuffs, and was wearing one of the twins’ ball gags as well. The spare ball-gag was locked around Tank’s thick neck and used as a makeshift collar, which Will tugged at to compel Tank to move wherever he wanted him to.

Will fished around in Tank’s pants pockets, found a set of keys, and (still talking in gag-speak of course) asked Ted to unlock his gag. After a bit of trial and error Ted found the key to the small padlock at the back of Will’s head that locked the penis gag onto his face. With a gasp of relief, Will pulled the nasty thing of his face, hurled it violently to the floor, and stomped on it hard and repeatedly as if he were trying to kill a tough, noxious spider. By the time it occurred to him that a better revenge might have been to use it against Tank instead, the penis gag was broken into several pieces.

A very surprised-looking John hurried up into the attic from the stairway just as Will, Bill, and Ted led a subdued Tank by his makeshift collar out of the elevator car. “Wow!” John exclaimed in sudden relief. “You got him! Please tell me that’s the last of them!”

“As far as I know he is,” Will replied. “Are you all right? Where’s Andy?” he added with more concern in his voice as he suddenly realized his little cousin wasn’t in sight.

“Down in your dad’s office guarding the other punks,” John replied with a grin. “One of them knocked the other two out with a control for those high-tech restraints your dad had in his safe. Apparently the damned things can actually knock a person out with drugs or something, as well as deliver some nasty electrical shocks.”

“Really?” Will asked with even greater interest. “Cool! Let’s get this jerk squared away then, and then get his other pals secured.”

Tank was taken to the cage while John fetched the key to it from where he’d hidden it in the sofa. The cage was unlocked, and Bill and Ted gently lifted the unconscious Dirk out of and set him down carefully upon the sofa. Tank was dumped into the now vacated cage with considerably less gentleness than Dirk had been removed from it.

“Find the keys to his restraints and free him, would you John?” Will asked his friend as he pointed at Dirk. “He told his slaves to switch sides, so I’ll assume for now that he’s on our side and so I’m giving him the benefit of the doubt. His friends however are a different story. I’m going to help Andy and bring them back up here to deal with them.”

Will hurried downstairs as John acknowledged his request with a nod of his head. John didn’t have to look for the keys to Dirk’s restraints; he was still carrying the keys inside his rather tight Speedoes. He was already unlocking Dirk’s handcuffs before Will was quite out of sight, while Bill and Ted hovered in concern close by.

Will ran down the hallway and came up to the door of his father’s office. Fortunately for Will he called out Andy’s name first, or the younger boy would likely have Tasered him the moment he came into sight without waiting to see who it was he could hear coming. The younger boy happily dropped his Taser and ran into Will’s arms with a glad cry; happy to see that his big cousin was unarmed. The two boys hugged each other in relief, and tears from shed from both sets of eyes (though Will tried somewhat to conceal his).

Happy to see that Andy was all right, Will proceeded to drag the remaining captives one at a time back up to the attic by himself, as Andy was too small to be much help in that regard. Will started with Vic, but before he got halfway back to the attic, Paul suddenly came down the stairs to assist him. “They found the keys on that last prat you tackled,” Paul explained as he grabbed Vic’s legs. “Matt should be along in a moment.”

Matt was also free by the time Vic was carried up the stairs into the attic. “We’ll get this crumb squared away while you get the others,” Matt assured him as he and John took Vic off their hands; “and it’ll be a pleasure!”

Paul and Will went back to the office to carry Brandon and then Sal back up into the attic. By the time they’d retrieved Brandon, the still-sleeping Vic was limply dangling from the same chains that had held Paul previously. By the time they’d retrieved Sal, Brandon was also dangling from the same chains that had previously held Matt. Sal was then given a set of chains of his own to dangle from. All three of these unconscious but now-reviving punks lay on the floor; only their arms being held up into the air. But as they revived and were capable of standing, the chains of each were raised one by one until they were forced to stand on tip-toe. They were also gagged with their own special gags, now that any concern that they might choke on them was alleviated.

Finally, Tank was rousted out of his cage (which was deemed too good for him) and likewise secured to one of the manacles that dangled from the ceiling. For good measure, Vic, Sal, Tank, and Brandon was outfitted with a set of the special leg-cuffs to ensure that any attempts at escape or retaliation would be dealt with swiftly and easily.

Like his companions, Dirk revived fully as well. The worst of his pain had subsided now, and he sat upright on the sofa (Bill and Ted to either side of him) watching the others.

By the time all this was accomplished, it was morning. Full sunlight shone in through the windows along the east-facing wall. It was a bright and beautiful morning.

“Any chance we can keep these guys here a while and torture the piss out of them?” Matt asked hopefully. “They really have it coming.”

“Man, I just want to sleep,” Paul moaned wearily.

“Me too, but it’s nearly time for breakfast,” Will told him. “Tasha ought to be ringing for admittance through the gate at any moment.”

“Seems to me we’re forgetting something,” John mused out loud.

At that moment, the sound of a car engine could be clearly heard from outside. Several of the boys hurried to the nearest window and looked out into the driveway.

“That looks like Tasha’s car,” Paul exclaimed. “She’s coming around the house. How did she get in with no one to open the gate?”

“Oh, I forgot,” Will replied casually. “I opened the gate last night when I managed to escape. I was going to go for help, but changed my mind. I never closed it, so naturally she found it open and just drove on in.”

“Uhhh… Hey! Where’s Corey?” John suddenly asked.

“Why he’s…” Will started to answer. Then he went silent and pale. “Oh… shit!”

“He’s still tied up down in the kitchen?” Paul asked in sudden concern.

“Yes!” exclaimed Will in horror as he ran to the elevator. “And Tasha must be entering through the back door right this very second!”

Always a different kind of problem to tend to...
It's not easy to keep such fast-paced action clear and flowing with so many characters and a complex scenery, think you do good at that.

LK3869 wrote: 6 years ago Always a different kind of problem to tend to...
It's not easy to keep such fast-paced action clear and flowing with so many characters and a complex scenery, think you do good at that.

Thanks.
And now for the Conclusion...


Part 64.

Downstairs in the kitchen, Corey and Tasha stared at each other in disbelief. Neither was able to speak, though for different reasons. Tasha was almost in a state of shock; staring wide-eyed at Corey. Corey for his part was gagged into sheer incomprehensibility and still securely tied into his kitchen chair, as relief mingled with fear and embarrassment ran through his mind.

At this point, Corey had no idea what was going on in the rest of the house. Had Will and the others gotten the upper hand? Or had Tank and his pals overcome him and, undoubtedly aware by now that Tasha had arrived, were even now preparing to trap her as well? As it had been hours and no one had come back downstairs to free him, he was forced to assume that Tasha was in immediate danger.

Therefore Corey attempted to warn her to drive away immediately (before the gate was closed and cut off her escape), or at least call for help on her cell-phone. Unfortunately, the gag – crude as it was compared to the ball-gag he’d been forced to wear earlier in the night – was effective enough so that his attempts to talk to Tasha failed miserably. Unlike Bill and Ted, Tasha was completely unversed in the fine art of understanding gag-speech; and therefore could not understand a single word that Corey was attempting to say to her. She merely stood stock-still in the kitchen doorway and looked at the bound and gagged Corey with an expression of sheer amazement – slowing altering to amusement.

At about the same time, the sound of the elevator car descending to the first floor came to Corey’s ears. Someone was coming… but was it friend or foe? For Tasha’s sake at least, he had to assume it was a foe… or, rather, several foes. So once again Corey made valiant attempts to warn Tasha before she discovered the true situation the hard way!

Tasha suddenly began to laugh. ‘Oh, my God… you gave me a scare!” she said as she strode into the kitchen and looked at Corey more closely. “Good grief! I knew Will was into playing pranks, but this is the wildest stunt yet! Did he tie you up just now, or has he left you down here all by yourself all night?”

Corey tried to answer, but his attempts were as incomprehensible as ever.

“Oh, yeah, I guess I’d better remove that gag for you, huh?” Tasha replied cheerfully. She stepped behind Corey’s chair and worked on finding a place where she could peel off the tape without taking too much hair and skin along with it. “Boy, Will sure tied this like he meant business, didn’t he?” Tasha said light-heartedly as she worked on the knot. “Look at all this tape he plastered on you! I’ll have to do this gently so I don’t rip your lips off! Ah, here we go!”

The tape began to slowly (and noisily) peel away. Corey struggled to repress his inclinations to groan in the discomfort of the sticky tape peeling off his face; it might discourage Tasha enough to slow her down, and it was much too important to get his mouth unblocked! He also repressed his impulse to shut his eyes tightly as the tape slowly and painfully peeled off. Finally it was gone.

Corey still could not talk however as his mouth was stuffed, and his hands were still bound so he could not remove the obstruction himself. But he was able to make it clear to Tasha that he had something in his mouth as well and she obligingly (if somewhat understandably hesitantly) reached in and removed an extremely disgusting dishrag.

“Oh my God!” Tasha exclaimed with mingled amusement and disgust. “Will stuffed *this* into your mouth? Is he crazy? That’s so nasty! It must taste horrible!”

Corey was too busy gasping of breath and trying to get that aforementioned horrible taste out of his mouth to interrupt her. But then the sound of the elevator car doors opening a few rooms away added fresh urgency to his need to warn her of potential danger.

“Run!” he exclaimed as loudly as he could. “Get help! Burglars! They tied us all up! They’re still here! They’re coming for you too! Run! Get help! HURRY!”

But Tasha merely stood there with an expression of clear disbelief. “Oh, come on, Corey! This is carrying a prank a little too far, don’t you think?”

Before Corey could attempt to persuade her that he was not merely trying to prank her, several more people hurriedly entered the kitchen from the living room door. But, much to Corey’s relief, it was Will, Paul and Andy who came in; not his adversaries Tank, Vic, and their cronies.

“Hi, Tasha,’ Will called hastily but cheerfully. “I guess there’s no fooling you, huh?”

“Corey and I told Will that you’d never fall for the old burglary gag, but he wanted to try it anyway,” Paul added with a grin and a surreptitious wink aimed at Corey. “Corey here still didn’t want to go along, but he got ‘volunteered’ for the mission anyway.”

“Well, he certainly had me going there for a moment,’ Tasha admitted as she looked at Corey once again. “Look at the way you have him bound to that chair! It sure looks like he’s stuck there but good like a burglar who knew his knots would do it.”

“Yeah!” Corey added sheepishly but managing to look convincing. At the very least, he gave a convincing look that he’d been tied up by the other boys just for fun and wasn’t too upset about it. He still had no idea what had happened, but his genuine relief that everything seemed under control helped him to stay calm and relaxed despite the fact that no one had as yet made any motion to untie him.

“Well, we’re nothing if not sticklers for realism,” Paul replied with a grin.

“I’ll say,” Tasha retorted as she looked at Paul more closely and noticed some not-quite-faded rope-burns on his wrists and lower legs. “Looks like someone was practicing their rope-work on you as well,” she added. Then she looked at Will, noticed similar marks on his wrists as well, and continued, “and you too.”

“We’ve been teaching Andy the ropes, so to speak,” Paul replied quickly. “Little kid’s already a pro at tying people up! He tied up Corey too! All by himself! Right, Andy?”

“Uhhh… yeah!” Andy replied, thinking quickly, smiling happily and assuming a proud strut. “I had ‘em ALL tied up for much of the night! It was fun!”

“Well, that explains why none of you looks like he got any sleep last night,” Tasha replied dryly but good-naturedly. “Now why don’t you untie the poor kid now and clear the kitchen so I can fix your breakfast?” Tasha suggested kindly. “Have you got other guests over too? I noticed a van outside that says Camp Willywonka on it. Almost made me think there really was something to this burglary business for a moment.”

“Oh, they’re just some swell guys I met when I was staying at that place earlier,” Paul answered glibly. “But you don’t need to fix breakfast for them. They won’t be staying long, and they’re – uhh, tied up with other matters.”

Tasha looked at Paul with an arched eyebrow and a small smile at that lame and rather obvious pun but decided to let the matter drop. Boys would be boys, and if they wanted to play harmless tie-up games with one another, that was their business not hers. “Right then,” she said with continued good humor; “so go tie Corey up somewhere else where he won’t be underfoot and all of you scoot so I can fix breakfast!”

Working together, Paul and Will managed to get Corey free from his bonds within a few minutes. They picked up all the loose ropes and hurried out of the kitchen.

“Jeez, that was close,” Will sighed with relief as the four of them boarded the elevator. “It’s a good thing Tank didn’t stick that ball-gag back on you or leave any of his other gear in the kitchen. That might’ve been harder to explain away.”

“So what happened?” Corey asked impatiently. “Where’s Tank? And all the others?”

“We’ve got ‘em all squared away,” Paul replied smugly as the elevator car slowed down. The car stopped, and the door slid open with a ding to reveal the attic.

Corey was amazed; especially as this was his first time up here. Sal, Vic, Tank, and Brandon were all standing on tip-toes; their arms suspended by manacles that hung from thick, heavy chains that dangled from regularly-spaced support beams in the ceiling.

Bill and Ted were once again gagged, hogtied tightly, and locked inside a cage just large enough to fit them both inside off to one side. Their wrists were cuffed behind them and locked around a couple of the bars that formed the cage to further hinder their movement. With the two of them stuffed into that cage, there was very little wiggle room left to them in any event; they seemed like sardines in a can. However, they seemed rather docile and merely glanced mildly at the newcomers; their attention was apparently mainly focused on their master, Dirk.

Dirk had been stripped down to his shorts and tied spread-eagle to the bed at the far end of the attic; his wrists and ankles forming a taut X-shape that left him as little wiggle-room as his twin slaves had. At the moment Corey saw him, Matt was gleefully straddling Dirk’s bare chest and was apparently just finishing locking one of Vic’s custom-made ball gags on him, while John was adjusting the fit of one of Dirk’s ankle cuffs to ensure it was secure but not too tight.

“Hey, I thought those three had gone over to our side!” Andy suddenly piped up; much to Corey’s surprise. “How come we’re tying them up!?”

“It’s just temporary, Andy,” John called to him. “We pointed out that we couldn’t be sure of their loyalty as yet; they might try to free their friends when we weren’t looking. So Dirk agreed to let us secure all three of them until we decide what to do with them, so the rest of us can relax and rest a little. After all, we can’t guard them all constantly, so this way we won’t have to worry about any of ‘em for a while.

"In fact, it was Dirk’s own idea,” Matt added as he slapped Dirk’s face playfully prior to getting off of him. “And this way at least he gets to rest comfortably while he recovers from that kick to the nuts you gave him. And Bill and Ted are apparently used to being caged up like this. They won’t object so long as we treat Dirk decently.”

“Well, okay,’ Andy replied; somewhat mollified.

Will looked around and made sure every current captive’s bonds and gags were secure. Once he was satisfied, he turned to the others. “Okay, everyone. I guess we can leave these guys unsupervised for a while. Even if they somehow get away, I set the ankle cuffs on those four (here he indicate Tank, Brandon, Vic, and Sal) to paralyze ‘em if they move away from where they’re standing. Let’s get downstairs and get washed and changed into clan clothes. We don’t want Tash to get any more suspicious of what’s been going on than she already is.”

Matt, John, Andy, Paul, Will, and Corey boarded the elevator and went downstairs to their own rooms. By the time they had eagerly returned to the kitchen for a much-desired breakfast, they looked much more respectable than Corey and his rescuers previously had. They all expressed their appreciation of her cooking to Tasha, who by then had all but forgotten the ‘prank’ seemingly played on her at her arrival and was in her usual good humor. They escorted her out to her car and waved as she drove off. Will activated the computer and closed the gate again once she had passed through it. Then all six boys ate a hearty breakfast of pancakes, sausage, scrambled eggs, and juice while discussing among themselves what to do with their seven new ‘house-guests’.

It was unanimously decided that Vic, Sal, Brandon, and Tank would be offered a choice. (1) They could remain strictly-confined prisoners inside the house and become slaves to the other six boys for the duration of the summer and then be released. Or (2) they could be arrested by the police and taken away to jail for what was likely to be a much longer (if not necessarily more unpleasant) period of time. If they opted to be slaves, Corey, Will, Matt, and Paul would each get to pick one as his personal slave to do with as he wished. The usual rights of a slave as described to John and Matt previously (including a right to win freedom once each day) would not apply to them, as it was deemed they had already forfeited any rights to any decent treatment.

John and Andy were excluded from this deal because John would be given to Andy instead, to remain his slave for the rest of the summer. This in accordance with John’s own request (he preferred being a slave to being a master now) and Andy’s eager acceptance to the idea. In addition, no one wanted little Andy to have a slave who could not already be fully trusted not to try to escape or hurt the little, relatively defenseless boy. Meanwhile, Matt would let Paul have his freedom, and each (along with Will and Corey) would choose a slave of his own.

After further discussion, it was agreed that Matt could have Brandon as his slave, Corey would get Tank, Will would have Vic, and Paul would have Sal. This agreement came only after some heated argument, as Matt and Paul had their own grievances against Brandon, and they along with Will had grievances against tank as well. But the interested parties agreed to conduct swaps every so often so that each boy could give his own brand of comeuppance to each of the enemies he had a personal grudge against.

Dirk, Bill, and Ted would be allowed to take the van they had come with and go their own way; provided only they told no one anything about what had happened here; a sensible condition everyone was sure they would agree to more than readily. After all, they’d only incriminate themselves in a number of felonies otherwise; Dirk’s keeping two under-aged boys as his personal (and bound) slaves among them.

Once all this was agreed too, the only matter left to decide was whether to tell their seven prisoners of their decision now, or wait until the six of them had gotten some rest. After all, none of them had slept very much the entire night except for Corey, and he had done so while sitting erect and tied to a chair in the kitchen! Andy had gotten a long nap in bed, but the small boy was exhausted by this time and was more than ready to go back to bed for another long nap. Everyone else – all being healthy teenaged boys - was too keyed up by the excitement of having new prisoners to sleep now however, and agreed to deal with the prisoners first before relaxing. Andy would not be needed for this anyway, and all agreed the young boy should go to bed in any case.

And so, while Andy wearily went to his room for a nap, Will, John, Corey, Matt, and Paul returned to the attic to deal with the seven other boys they had left trapped up there. As expected, none of the prisoners had moved; they were all secured too well by experts for that to have been even a remote possibility.

Will faced the four half-suspended prisoners - still forced by their wrist shackles to stand on tip-toe – and made the offer. “It’s an all or none deal,” he concluded. “Either you all stay here as our prisoners for two months, or you all go to jail – probably for years. We can’t have some do one and the rest do the other. It’s either/or for the four of you. So what’ll it be?”

The four prisoners were still gagged of course, as no one wanted to hear them talk out loud; since it was much too likely they would abuse the privilege by swearing luridly and making threats of grievous bodily harm and so forth. Instead, they were allowed to vote by shaking their head for choosing one option or nodding their head for the other.

It was a split decision; Brandon and Tank opted to remain here (knowing that they’d be treated worse than at jail but also spending much less time in incarceration and nothing entered into an official criminal record), while Vic and Sal preferred to take their chances with the legal system.

A second vote was conducted, but everyone’s decision was unchanged.

Will faced Brandon and Tank. “If you agree to keep your voices down and stay civil; no name-calling or swearing or threats in other words, we’ll take off your gags and feed you.” Tank and Brandon readily agreed to this. Will removed their gags while John was sent downstairs to fetch some snacks and drinks from the kitchen. Once he returned, Paul and Matt took over the task of feeding the two. Once they were finished, they were allowed to remain ungagged for as long as they behaved themselves. Their arm chains were even slackened a bit so that they could stand firmly on the floor rather than being hoisted half off the floor and standing on tip-toe; greatly relieving stress on their arms and shoulders. This was such an improvement that both turned as meek as lambs.

Vic and Sal were given no such offers of food and relief and were left dangling, gagged, hungry, thirsty, and aching in their arms and shoulders.

Will then turned his attention to Dirk, removed his gag but leaving his tied to the bed, and offered him parole for himself (and his two slaves) and the van in exchange for his departure and his silence. However, rather than agree at once as expected, Dirk made a counter-proposal.

“My slaves and I have nowhere to go right now,” Dirk explained. “We were hanging out with Vic when we were told this story about you and the others having done something wrong to Vic and the others. We were brought here on a lie, and we’re sorry for helping them against you. But we have nowhere to go now. So tell you what; you let me, Bill, and ted stay here as long as Vic and the others do, and all three of us can be your slaves too. I can help you in things you can’t do and can’t trust those others to do, like drive you around in the van, shop for groceries and stuff, run errands… all that sort of thing. We can help you keep Vic and the others under control too. You can even keep us tied up if you don’t trust us. All I ask is that you let us stay here and give me time to find somewhere else the three of us can go to when we DO leave. I’ll even drive the other four far away from here when you’re all done with them if you like.”

Dirk sounded so honest and sincere that Will found himself believing him; despite his understandable doubts about trusting anyone to such an extent. And so it was agreed.

By this time, Vic and Sal had decided to vote for remaining prisoners of the boys as well; if only so that they could be fed, allowed to stand on their own two feet, and allowed to use the bathroom one at a time (even if only under heavy – and well-armed - guard).

There was a lot of activity rearranging things the rest of that day; with breaks only when Tasha was on the premises fixing lunch for the six masters and then later cooking dinner for them as well. No provision was made for feeding the seven ‘houseguests’ (that she knew nothing about anyway) the meals she cooked; instead, Dirk and his slaves subsisted on sandwiches and chips and the remaining four on scraps, bread and water.

Before lunch, the Camp Willywonka van was driven into the garage and locked away so that Tasha would not spot it after the first time. After lunch and before dinner, the prisoners were relocated into as many separate locations to isolate them from one another.

Tank was sequestered inside the hot tub house; tied in such a way that he was forced to remain standing up to his neck in very hot water while wearing only a Speedo. Brandon was consigned to the walk-in freezer down in the cellar, also clad in Speedos while the temperature was adjusted just to the high side of freezing. Both faced the punishment of greatly (and unbearably) altered temperatures in their environments if they misbehaved.

Vic and Sal were banished from the house outright. Sal was locked inside the cage, which was left near the old tree-house. Vic was staked out securely on the bare grass near the duck pond. Both were clad only in speedos in widely separate spots within the woods - well out of sight or earshot from the house. Each would be visited once or twice a day to be fed, watered, maybe given relief, and most definitely receive a generous and well-deserved round of torture inflicted on them. Most of the time however, they would be kept tightly bound, gagged (the normal safety procedures were deemed much too good for them), and left alone and isolated from everyone and everything else. Even when it rained, they were to be left outside for the duration of their stay here.

Dirk was kept tied to that comfortable bed inside the stuffy but otherwise tolerable attic. Bill and Ted stayed in the attic with him, but were kept confined by the shackles that dangled from the chains hanging from the rafters. They were on probation however, and they would gradually be allowed more freedom and responsibility at Will’s discretion - provided they remained model prisoners and proved they could be trusted not to abuse any freedom or privileges they were given. In general, they were treated much more leniently than their former comrades; being fed better, allowing more frequent (and unsupervised) trips to the bathrooms, and exempt from being tortured. It was generally (if secretly) agreed that Dirk and his slaves would be allowed full freedom within several days, but at least at the start would be treated with caution.

Everyone (except the four exiled prisoners) slept long and well that night, and by morning a new routine had begun for the thirteen of them that would last for the rest of the summer.

THE END (for now)

Awesome story. Glad to have been able to re-read it.

Do you have plans for a sequel? The "for now" makes me hope...

chloroboy wrote: 6 years ago Awesome story. Glad to have been able to re-read it.

Do you have plans for a sequel? The "for now" makes me hope...

Plans, yes; but nothing solid as yet. As this seems to be one of my most popular stories here though i probably will do a sequel at some point.

Didn't realise it was actually the end before the very last paragraphs. Gotta find me a new loooong story "for everyone".
Appart from that logical and - yes- balanced conclusion, that Tasha moment was really well written. She's like one those horny boys clichés in movies like American Pie, all boys would love to be ungagged by her

Thanks so much for that monument. It keeps all its promises and stays entertaining to the end, with really memorable moments. Big chunks of it spread all over those tasty adventures. Thanks again.

LK3869 wrote: 6 years ago Didn't realise it was actually the end before the very last paragraphs. Gotta find me a new loooong story "for everyone".
Appart from that logical and - yes- balanced conclusion, that Tasha moment was really well written. She's like one those horny boys clichés in movies like American Pie, all boys would love to be ungagged by her

Thanks so much for that monument. It keeps all its promises and stays entertaining to the end, with really memorable moments. Big chunks of it spread all over those tasty adventures. Thanks again.

You're welcome. As for long stories, i'm about to start a new one at Deviantart that wouldn't be fully suitable here, even though it' involves nothing beyond PG-13 material, based in part on what we discussed in PMs there.

What's your pseudo on DeviantArt?

chloroboy wrote: 6 years ago What's your pseudo on DeviantArt?

https://www.deviantart.com/captainquirk5/

I really loved this story too much, it is really too too great, the slaves really have a lot of chances lol I would love to be able to test this wonderful necklace and its handcuffs with a lot of possibilities lol I too want to become Will's slave lol

Jason is currently trading as "OldCartoonGeek" on DA.

Xtc wrote: 5 years ago Jason is currently trading as "OldCartoonGeek" on DA.

This seems to be the only story of my own from the old site that I have re-posted here, near as I can see.
Perhaps it's time I resumed posting some others here as well and finish those i left uncompleted.

How about starting by following the slave's lead?

Jason Toddman wrote: 5 years ago

Xtc wrote: 5 years ago Jason is currently trading as "OldCartoonGeek" on DA.

This seems to be the only story of my own from the old site that I have re-posted here, near as I can see.
Perhaps it's time I resumed posting some others here as well and finish those i left uncompleted.

That's one of the best forum-related ideas I've seen in a while.
Welcome back, Jason!