Stories of Tie Up Games

SPECIAL NOTE: This is a story I wrote and posted on the original TUGs board. I’ve made some alterations to a few things, including changing the names of the kidnappers.


Kidnapping Andy - Chapter 1

“Shut him up!” the disguised figure yelled in a heavy Jersey accent.

“Wait wait Mmmmmm,” Andy pleaded. He was an average built teenage boy, slender, no match for the burlier guys attacking him. Yet he was not one to give up. He tried to fight them off. It was no use. They had guns too.

As one masked man held the teenager, another close by stuffed something in his mouth, a gag. That shut him up quickly. Then they duct taped his face like crazy. Andy kept struggling, trying to prevent the tape assault. They just grabbed and pulled it tighter. Without any semblance of concern for his comfort. It was pretty brutal. In fact one had to mutter, “He’s just a kid, go easy!” Another snapped, “Ya but a punk brat. He’ll have to tough it out!”

It was wrap after wrap was wound around his mouth. Duct taping Andy was a real process they subjected on him. Layers ran pressed down on his face from the bottom edge of his nose, over all the skin of his cheeks, covering the arch of his chin, going behind his head pressing down against his brown hair, even wrapped vertically going under his head and his jaw area ultimately getting dangerously close to the Adam’s apple! When they were done, only his eyes and part of his head of hair on top were left un-assaulted. It was an extraordinary sight; how extensively they “shut him up.” A mummified face.

Worst of all for Andy. Only eighteen but had proudly started to grow a light goatee. This made the duct tape over his face particularly painful.

“Mmmmmmhhhmmm!” Andy grunted in fear as loud as he could but it was a mere gasp, barely audible. The gag in his mouth was completely filling him, preventing even his tongue from moving. Poor punk.

The two masked men flanking the slender teen threw him to the floor, handcuffed his wrists behind his back and placed a pillowcase over his head. “Use the tape,” he heard as the sound of more duct tape was followed by the pressure of it wrapping the cotton fabric of the pillowcase around his neck. It basically sealed his head and immediately took away his ability to see. He barely could breathe much air now too!
Hot, muted oxygen. Taking in his sweat and limited breathe racing in and out of his nostrils.

All three men regrouped, pulling their freshly restrained victim to his feet and darted out of the house. Andy was whimpering. Who were these guys he thought? They threw him into the back of a van behind Andy’s house. This was a kidnap. The men removed their masks as they climbed in; they made sure they returned to a relaxed, normal poise and they were dressed in service uniforms. Their disguises. Professionals most likely. They calmly drove away, journeying out of the suburban street Andy called home.

Andy was handcuffed so getting his wrists free was a useless task. He laid on the floor of the van, breathing heavily, sweating like a pig. The air in that pillowcase getting heavier and hotter. Yelling for help was futile he knew. That makeshift hood made air a real fight. As they said he had to “tough it out” no doubt. He knew his muffled yelps wouldn’t draw attention. At various times when they were at stoplights, he thought about screaming as best as he could still. He laid there. He knew better.

It was a few minutes of driving and stopping and such when it dawned on him to just roll around, or even try to stand up. At the next stop, he assumed a stoplight, he started rolling over, moving about, and attempting to stand on his feet. He knocked into something back there, making a lot of noise. But he was on his feet, trying to get to the back door. The van then suddenly took off, throwing him off balance back to the floor.

“Take care of that!” he heard. Then one of the men, jumping back, grabbed him. He pinned Andy down on the floor, on his stomach, easily holding him still with his weight. “Throw me some more tape!” the kidnapper yelled to the front.

“Mmmmmm!” Andy groaned in anger. He was pissed off now, not caring his struggles made his air even harder to breathe.

“You gotta lot of fight kid,” the man commented, seeming impressed. But still with a job to continue. Andy heard the menacing sound of more duct tape unwrapped. He felt tape wrapping his ankles, multiple times. His Vans were knocked off his feet. “Phew! Nasty smell,” the man muttered. “Does your mom know you don’t wash your socks?” He heard the others laughing up front. All of them laughed now. Indeed, even Andy, with that pillowcase, could start to smell the faint odor of his Vans sneakers and dirty socks filling the air.

The taping continued. The sound of it breaking off the roll at times. More tight wraps around his legs, all up and down the lower half below the knees. He squirmed less and less now. That still wasn’t the end. The kidnapper wrapped tape around his wrists, over those cuffs and between them, around the chain link. He pulled Andy’s feet back and after at least ten, maybe even fifteen wraps, used the duct tape to hogtie Andy. He even added an extra few rounds crisscrossed so it pressed his wrists and ankles into his back and wrapped around his waist. “This one’s spent!” the kidnapper said, Andy hearing the empty roll dropped to the metal floor. “But this should do, ha hah.”

And yup, it did. Poor Andy was uncomfortably, tightly bound up hogtied. He finally gave up fighting.

At some point he passed out as the increasing trapped exhalation of his nostril breaths and sweating face just made things worse. It made him dizzy and weak. Passing out was within an hour of the ordeal.

By then they were likely out of the city, consistently driving on the highway. Off to an unknown destination.


Chapter 2

It was pitch black. Andy’s face surrounded by trapped hot air. His panting for breath the only discernable familiarity. He was somewhere and hooded. Andy heard a commotion of young men coming into the room, wherever he was. They were laughing and making fun of him.

“Welcome!” he heard followed by a quick release of the nylon hood covering his sweaty face.

Gathered over him were a group of young boys, dressed in soccer uniforms. His teammates! They were in the locker room. Andy was half dressed, just in his shiny soccer shorts and long white socks. He had been tied down to the bench with athletic tape.

This was his initiation onto the soccer team. Andy was gagged with a knee brace held in place by ace bandage. But he was laughing, taking the rite of passage in stride. These were his friends. He knew how to keep his cool anyway. All good fun.

Oddly a player from the team he didn’t recognize suddenly came forward and started slapping him. Huh? It was jarring. Even painful. It increased, the slapping.

“Wake up!” a voice said, the vision once again unreadable. Another place now. Not black, just foggy. When his sight regained, still confusing nonetheless by the surroundings.

“Wake up sleeping beauty!” again the voice said.

Andy woke up to the horror that he was only dreaming about the locker room hazing. It was a memory.

He was back to being a captive. Standing over him was a young man who looked Italian-American. He was short but had a solid frame with a tough face and a pug nose. Short brown hair and dark eyes. Dressed plainly but wearing a hip pair of white skater shoes with black laces. He was no older than Andy.

“Drink this,” the young man ordered. He extended a soda can to Andy. Hawaiian Punch?

The young prisoner was no longer duct taped in a helpless ball or gagged. Just handcuffed with his wrists now in front. A mess of layered duct tape, stretched, cut and dampened with sweat was collected on the floor next to him. He had been cut out from it. In fact, there were several rips in his clothes, still soaked in his own sweat.

Andy took the refreshment and it was an immediate relief. Plain water would be nice but Hawaiian Punch still hit the spot. The dry mouth from being gagged disappeared. The brave teenage boy still kept a vigilant readiness but felt his first semblance of comfort for hours.

“Why are you doing this?” he asked looking up at the young man standing over him. Andy was on the floor, previously passed out on his side next to the tape remains.

The hoodlum only smiled and grabbed Andy by the handcuffs, forcing him on his feet. He led him through the room, what was a small storage room. Beyond a door he was taken to another room, much larger with windows. It looked like a warehouse but strangely had a small kitchen area in a corner. There were two other young men at a table playing cards. They were also Italian American and full of energy as they enjoyed their game.

Andy came to the realization that his captors were no longer disguised in masks and he wasn’t blindfolded. Was this a bad sign?

“Hey Mr. Brown., where’s that bread and shit?” the guy holding Andy asked. The tallest young man at the table, a slender built rough trade looking guy, then mumbled something. He called the detainer “Mr. Blue” but the reference was followed by some laughter. It was a funny exchange, some kind of inside joke. “Mr. Blue” said under his breath something about that being a cool name.

“Reservoir Dogs didn’t have a ‘Mr. Blue’ you limp dick!” the tallest one laughed. After some ball busting exchanges, it became clear that the tallest one went by “Mr. Brown.” They were using alias, naming themselves after character’s in Quentin Tarantino’s movie “Reservoir Dogs.”

Mr. Blue led Andy to the kitchen and prepared a peanut butter sandwich. He placed it in Andy’s handcuffed hands and suggested he eat it. As he did, Mr. Blue lit a cigarette standing watch closely. He looked Andy over too as he smoked. Andy was starving so eating the food wasn’t a problem.

“Stop playing with the suburby, get back here Little Boy Blue” the other young man said. He was average height but stocky, a thick neck and huge chest.

“Mr. Blue!” said Mr. Blue. “That’s my alias!” he finished, laughing along too.

“That’s a queer name. Mr. Blue?’ What the fuck?” Mr. Brown scoffed. “Mr. Orange, you like the name Mr. Blue?’”

The stocky boy, identified as MR. Orange, laughed and shook his head.

Mr. Blue relented and walked his handcuffed hostage over to the poker table game. The other boys noticed how sweat soaked Andy was.

“Did we pull him out of a river or something?”Mr. Brown asked.

“Please.. what is this about? I don’t understand,” Andy asked.

Again, no response to his question. Just ignored. In fact, after the thugs finished their banter with one another, Mr. Blue decided to gag Andy again. He tied a bandana around his mouth. Then Mr. Blue led Andy back to that storage room as the other two continued the card game.

“No moving!” he warned as he uncuffed Andy briefly and re-cuffed his wrists behind his back. Andy was whimpering, even showing signs of crying now. Starting to get broken. Mr. Blue noticed. He eased up a little.

“I’m pulling that gag down for a bit so I can ask you something. Just give me answers. No questions dude! I’ll tape your mouth shut worse than that. Got it?” Mr. Blue warned.

Andy nodded. The gag was pulled down.

“You’re gonna be here a while. I have to cuff you to something but this fucking room doesn’t have anything. So I gotta hogtie you or shit. Any requests?”

Andy didn’t understand. He risked asking the simple question, “What do you mean?”

Mr. Blue laughed and shrugged, “Ah. I’ll just hogtie you. Whatever. Why do I give a fuck?”

He started pushing Andy to the floor and Andy suddenly understands the question. “A chair or something. That would be better. Sorry.”

Mr. Blue nodded and left briefly to the other room. He returns holding a standard wooden chair. He placed in the middle of the storage room. “Sit there!”

As Andy sat in the chair, wrists guided behind the backing of the chair, Mr. Blue started to produce rope in hand from a corner of the room.

“Wait! Please,” Andy said. “What if I have to take a leak?” he asked.

“Piss in your pants!” Mr. Blue snapped.

“Well I have to go now,” Andy said sheepishly.

Mr. Blue looked at Andy, pausing. Thinking. Ultimately consenting to helping the poor hostage. He didn’t want to deal with the smell of the urine while tying him up anyway.

He took Andy over to a narrow-rusted metal gutter running along the floor next to a wall. He unbuttoned his jeans and dropped the pants. Mr. Blue pulled Andy’s boxer briefs down and said “Fire away.”

Andy started to pee but it was jumping around, aimless. Not hitting the gutter to Mr. Blue’s frustration. Just making a mess. So, he reluctantly decided to grab Andy down there and hold it for him. This startled Andy a little and he briefly looked at Mr. Blue. There was a quick, curious, uncomfortable exchange with one another. Then back to business for both of them.

Andy finished peeing so Mr. Blue could let go. Instead of pulling his jeans back up, Mr. Blue striped them off Andy. Leaving him in his white boxer briefs and t-shirt. Showing off his dirty white ankle socks too. “So, you don’t soak your jeans when you pee again,” Mr. Blue explained about the pants removal.

Andy was shoved back into the wooden chair. Mr. Blue used the rope to bind Andy to it. His ankles, legs, thighs, stomach, rope around his chest. Lots of rope! Well restrained! Mr. Blue made sure the work was tight while asking Andy along the way if he was “okay.” Not totally evil Andy thanked to himself about Mr. Blue.

“Don’t gag me,” Andy requested. “Ok??”

“I gotta. Mr. Brown and Mr. Orange, ha ha,” they’ll be pissed. The bosses are coming later anyway. Sorry!”

Mr. Blue started to raise the bandana gag to Andy’s lips as Andy continued, “Just not as tight then! It was pinching my lips.”

Mr. Blue nodded and loosened the knot a little, returning to finish the gag.

Suddenly a voice yells out. It’s Mr. Brown. He’s angry. “Mr. Blue, you’re a pansy! Stop babying this dude. Get back to the card game!”

Mr. Blue left as instructed, clearly showing Mr. Brown was the one in charge. Mr. Brown came over to Andy.

Mr. Brown pulled a gun from his pocket and points it right into Andy’s crotch. Pressing down, caving the material into his ball sack! It hurts too.

“You think this is a fuckin’ spa? Nice try!” he laughs.

“Let’s use those notorious socks of yours. They stink. You need those in your mouth.”

Andy pleads thru the bandana but Mr. Brown concentrates on removing the dirty socks. He pulls down the bandana, shoves both socks into Andy’s mouth and holds his hand over it.

“Mmmphhh!” Andy gasps. He can taste them already too.

Then Mr. Brown manages to unwrap some duct tape he had close by and duct tapes Andy’s mouth shut. Once again, Andy is subjected to the cruel punishment of a tight tape gag. Now it includes having to “eat” his used socks.

Mr. Brown slaps Andy on the face saying “That’s better!” and grabs the frame of the chair by the backing. Andy can only buckle helplessly in the chair as Mr. Brown pulls it across the concrete floor. Almost completely silenced by the gag that plugs his mouth, pressing down his tongue, Andy just moans.

Mr. Brown drags the chair tied teenager into the other room, pulling him up to the table. He’s kept there are the three boys play cards, watching him. Every so often they laugh at the state of Andy’s embarrassing and uncomfortable predicament. Even Mr. Blue to an extent, in between sympathetic glances.

Andy can only watch the young criminals playing their game of poker as he vainly tries to avoid tasting his smelly socks in his mouth. Damn duct tape!

Through conversation between the juvenile thugs, he learns another transport is in store for him. They’ll be moving him to a new location. And it requires either knocking him out or making sure he is completely immobile and “muzzled.” It’s terrifying to hear the discussion and unbelievable how casual they are about it. When the other men return, they’ll have the van again for executing.

Eventually there’s the sound of the van pulling up to the building.

“It’s time!”Mr. Brown says. They stand up from the table.

“Hey Mr. Blue! Your call. How do you want your new friend?”Mr. Brown playfully asks. “Knock him out or mummify the bitch?”

Andy breaks into a sweat, beads dripping down his face over his duct tape.

He doesn’t want either to happen. But he’s not in control. What is next?

TO BE CONTINUED

Wonderful, just amazing! I love the strictness of the kidnappers and the fact that one of them has some human feeling towards the victim. But that one is not in charge... Keep it up, man!

squirrel wrote: 7 years ago Wonderful, just amazing! I love the strictness of the kidnappers and the fact that one of them has some human feeling towards the victim. But that one is not in charge... Keep it up, man!

Agreed! I love the initial kidnapping and roughness of it all.
The extensive use of duct tape was phenomenal in the first chapter.

I also really loved the sock gag in chapter two.
Amazing stuff, as usual my friend.

Please, do continue!

Woaaah, yeah, what an awesome extensive use of duct tape in chapter 1! Amazing.

Please continue this - we're all longing for that for sure!

[mention]squirrel[/mention] , [mention]bondagefreak[/mention] , and [mention]sniffingyoursocks[/mention] ,

Thank you! Any suggestions on the next chapter?

Knocking him out would be rather anticlimactic. I vote for letting him stay awake to witness whatever is happening. It's about time to find out what this is all about, too. Please don't stop now!

squirrel wrote: 7 years ago Wonderful, just amazing! I love the strictness of the kidnappers and the fact that one of them has some human feeling towards the victim. But that one is not in charge... Keep it up, man!

I like your suggestion about keeping him consciousness to witness what's done next to him. I'm going to ruminate on it and try to continue the story.

Nice story...

please, more.

Great story so far!
I vote for mummify the bitch!

Mummify him!

Looks like keeping him conscious and mummifyiing him is where I should take the story!

Any other requests?

I want to start writing the next chapter!

[mention]sockgagged[/mention] No suggestion, you seem to have all the basics in mind and you're probably already writing
Just found it and bookmarked it, there's a nice ambiance all around it. The warehouse and mafia thugs: yes !
TUGs details aside, awaiting what you'll come up with.

LK3869 wrote: 7 years ago @sockgagged No suggestion, you seem to have all the basics in mind and you're probably already writing
Just found it and bookmarked it, there's a nice ambiance all around it. The warehouse and mafia thugs: yes !
TUGs details aside, awaiting what you'll come up with.

Well, I have yet to continue. Its one of the stories on my list to expand. So in the meantime if you or anyone has ideas to inspire me, I'm all ears lol.

[mention]sockgagged[/mention] Will give it a quick think and let you know. I'm in a playful mode

It’s probably already finished, but I hope they knock him out.

Mummify him!!

Yeah, mummify him!

The Kidnapping Andy saga continues…
But first, let’s have a recap of what’s happened…

• Andy, 18, was kidnapped from his home by three other young men wearing masks.
• He’s bound, gagged, and transported in a van where he passes out.
• He awakes to find himself held hostage in a warehouse by the three young men, now unmasked, identified only the following alias:
o Mr. Blue – The youngest of the group and closest in age to Andy; the most sympathetic to Andy’s plight
o Mr. Brown – The tallest and oldest of the young thugs; probably in charge; who couldn’t care less about Andy’s comfort
o Mr. Orange – The shorter stocky muscle punk who, like Brown, could give two shits about Andy
• They have to move him to another safehouse in a populated area and debate how to prep him for transport. Should they knock him out or mummify him with duct tape?

Chapter Three

Young Andy, tied to the chair and positioned at the table where his kidnappers are gathered, listened nervously to their debate about how to handle him for transport. He learned they were taking him in to “the city” and to a neighborhood hideout with a lot of people around. They needed to make sure he wouldn’t make any noise or draw attention. They had a bottle of chloroform but perhaps not enough of it to last the whole trip. The alternative was to duct tape him head to toe so he was completely immobilized.

Mr. Brown, the apparent leader of this gang of misfits, wanted the young Mr. Blue to make the call.

“’Little Boy Blue’ ha hah. I mean Mr. Blue, how should we take care of gay ass boyfriend here?” Mr. Brown mocked. “This?” he said holding up a bottle of chloroform, “Or this?” he added holding duct tape in his other hand.

Blue thought for a moment and gave a brief glance towards Andy, looking conflicted, then finally gave an answer.

“Ummm, maybe both?” Blue shrugged.

“Mmmhhhhhh hhhmmm!” Andy screamed through his gag, shaking his head, trying to object.

“Good idea,” Brown praised.

“Fuck, man. We’re gonna have to use a lot of duct tape!” Orange sighed.

“Ya, but it’s more fun, ha hah,” Brown sinisterly laughed.

Mr. Brown unscrewed the cap from the bottle of chloroform, poured the remaining contents in to a rag, and approached Andy.

“Just breathe normal,” Brown said as he cupped the rag over Andy’s face, covering his nose.

Andy buckled and squirmed, mumbling through his gag, then eventually slumped over in to the chair, motionless.

SOME TIME LATER…

It was a jostling ride in the back of the van. Andy was now slowly regaining consciousness. Within a few moments of coming to, he realized he was still kidnapped and now in a new bondage situation.

Andy had been duct taped from the shoulders down all the way to his toes. He was mummified. His arms were pressed against his side and his taped body was also strapped down to something that he couldn’t make out. He taped up body was belted down to some kind of hard flat board. A cloth or a sock was tied around his eyes to blindfold him. For whatever reason, though, he had been spared duct tape around his face and he wasn’t gagged.

Andy had enough wits about him to not call attention that he was awake. He could feel the heavy restriction of tape sealing his body and it was warm inside. He could only see black. The young man focused on staying calm, accepting his mummification. But he could at least listen. Andy heard pulsing sounds of a busy city outside of the vehicle. It was making intermittent stops. He also heard chatter between the young hoodlums saying something about pleasing their “capo” and getting “admitted.”


At one point, the van came to a temporary stop in an area where the sounds of boys playing outside could be heard. One of those boys seemed to come up to the vehicle and called out the name “Bobby” followed by conversation.

Andy decided to make his move. He immediately started to yell at the top of his lungs, “HELP!” He kept repeating it, “HELP! HELP!”

“Shut him up!” he heard Mr. Brown shout from up front as the van suddenly took off, leaving the boy from the street in the distance.

“Dumb ass punk!” Andy heard the voice of Mr. Orange bellow, approaching him back there, followed by a harsh punch to the side of his face.

“Careful! Don’t fuck him up!” he heard Mr. Blue call out, also coming closer to Andy.

Then Andy felt a warm hand cupped over his face, pressing down hard over his mouth. It muffled his cries for help. “Shhhh!” he heard Mr. Blue say, in close proximity, now knowing it was him covering his mouth.

“I told you we should have gagged him!” Orange complained.

Next, Andy heard the sound of duct tape loudly unraveling from a roll. Then, as the kidnappers lifted his head, he endured the harsh reality of his mouth getting sealed fast and furious, tape pressing hard against his face and getting dangerously close to covering his entire nose too.

Mr. Blue made sure Andy could still breathe okay through his nostrils, pulling away some of the adhesive strip and patting it down.

Poor Andy’s heart was racing and he was visibly stressed, making all kinds of muffled yelps and whimpers.

“Relax, okay?” Mr. Blue said in what seemed like a sympathetic tone to Andy.

Eventually, Andy gave up on his futile cries for help and accepted his circumstance once more.

After another half an hour of driving through the city, the van finally parked and the engine was shut off.

What Andy didn’t know was that, while the thugs had arrived to their destination, they couldn’t move him. They were in a densely populated borough of New York in the middle of the day. They’d have to wait till a late hour.

What this meant was more torturous encapsulation for Andy in the back of that stale van that reeked of cigarettes and body odor. He had been mummified in duct tape then, as of yet unclear to him, strapped to a medical spine board for added immobility. He only knew he couldn’t move an inch of his body. He was burning up inside all that tape too. He could barely breathe through his nose and the air inside the vehicle was warm and stuffy.

As the hours passed, he could hear random people passing by. He screamed, he wailed but his best efforts were so muffled that it was of little use. He whimpered. At times he heard Mr. Orange and Mr. Brown chatting about basketball or other topics as they smoked cigarettes outside the van. Mr. Blue, however, came inside periodically to check on their cocooned victim. He did his best to assure him it would be over soon and to relax as much as possible. “Stay tough, kid” he said.

It would be another eight hours before Andy could be transported from the vehicle.

Sometime past midnight, the doors opened and the three goons lifted the medical stretcher strapping down their prisoner.

They quickly, but quietly skirted him down nearby steps into a sub-level door underneath a large brownstone apartment building.

Once inside, they bolted the door, set him on the floor, and turned on the lights. They were in a basement room that appeared to double as someone’s shabby excuse for an apartment.

Mr. Brown’s phone rang. He put it on speaker phone and Andy heard the voice of an older Italian-American sounding man complimenting them on the delivery. He told the boys to keep one of them on post but the others should return to “the club” for more instructions. The phone call concluded with Mr. Brown saying they’d be right there.

“Let’s get him out first,” Mr. Brown said. “Get a knife.”

They unstrapped Andy from the medical spine board. Once they had a knife in hand from the kitchenette, they used it to carefully tear off the mounds of duct tape sealing the mummified young man.

A waft of hot, humid air escaped as they peeled away the duct tape. It revealed a completely sweat soaked Andy. He was in a plain grey t-shirt and white boxer briefs, which were now drenched. His slender body quivered and his skin looked flushed.

Once he was out of the duct tape, Mr. Brown said they needed to hurry. He produced a pair of handcuffs. They propped Andy against a narrow metal support pole in the middle of the room and handcuffed his wrists behind it.

“You’re staying behind. Take care of junior. Keep him quiet. Keep him handcuffed,” Mr. Brown said looking at Mr. Blue.

“Shouldn’t we make sure he has water, or food?” Mr. Blue asked.

“Sure. Whatever the fuck. I don’t give a shit as long as he’s alive. You’re responsible. Don’t fuck up” Mr. Brown replied to Mr. Blue.

Mr. Blue nodded.

“Ok. We gotta bolt back to the clubhouse. We’ll be in touch,” Mr. Brown finished.

Mr. Brown and Mr. Orange exited the apartment, leaving Mr. Blue alone with Andy.

Blue watched his buddies leave thru a ground level window. He looked at Andy for a moment, who appeared exhausted and slumped over in his position against the pole. Mr. Blue, a teenager like Andy from the same part of the tri-state, was conflicted. Though he had a job to do, he empathized with their distressed captive. He sighed and went over to Andy. Was he going to toe the line and discard his well-being or would he take some mercy on him?

TO BE CONTINUED. ..

Great chapter, love the mummification idea, although I was surprised that Andy wasn't gagged when he woke up from the chloroform. Looking forward to read the next chapter, I know it will be awesome

Oh my god!

Poor Andy.... he lives a very hard time whit this kidnappers.

But we didn't want his captivity ended soon.

^^ no we don't !
Van rides are a big hit with me and this one is real good. And a basement and a sympathetic jailer... All good, all good.
Super choice of Andy for your banner, do you want hot kidnappers too? You can't leave us with Alamy stock shots on such a fetishist site

squirrel wrote: 7 years ago Great chapter, love the mummification idea, although I was surprised that Andy wasn't gagged when he woke up from the chloroform. Looking forward to read the next chapter, I know it will be awesome

Well, leaving him un-gagged while knocked out was Mr. Blue's decision who didn't want him to chock or suffocate.. he wanted them to be sure, when he woke up, and they had a chance to gag him again, he would be okay.

[mention]alkaid_[/mention] [mention]LK3869[/mention]
Thank you boys for the comments! Yea, van rides are a big things for me too.

As for the photos of the kidnappers, I've thought about picking photos of what they look like unmasked. Maybe I'll do that in a new banner for the next chapter.

Like that idea?

sockgagged wrote: 7 years ago
As for the photos of the kidnappers, I've thought about picking photos of what they look like unmasked. Maybe I'll do that in a new banner for the next chapter.

Like that idea?

I'd say keep them masked for now, more like the story feel. You can still change it later if ,say, Blue gets even friendlier. So seeing the banner change will be like a signal for us

LK3869 wrote: 7 years ago

sockgagged wrote: 7 years ago
As for the photos of the kidnappers, I've thought about picking photos of what they look like unmasked. Maybe I'll do that in a new banner for the next chapter.

Like that idea?

I'd say keep them masked for now, more like the story feel. You can still change it later if ,say, Blue gets even friendlier. So seeing the banner change will be like a signal for us

Copy that, I like that idea!