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One of those occasion you can never forget - and don't want to remember. You've just gagged yourself securely with your favourite gag. You're looking in the closet mirror, having fun making grunts through the gag while you fiddle with the cord to tie your wrists but so you can slide the slipknot back and get free and, I don't know, you lose attention. You tug with your tied wrists and make gagged noises and get very excited. And then you have a moment of doubt. Maybe the knot seems stuck. Maybe you slid the knot tight and then dumbly put in that one extra fold over of the cord and you can't get your fingers under it and ease it loose and slide the slipknot back.

You tug frantically and the cord cuts in. You try to yell and then realise you mustn't yell.

Your mind fills with stupid imaginings of what to do. Your room mate will maybe be back from football in a couple of hours. Will he just laugh? Tell all his mates? Laugh and leave me there. I'll tell him that a couple of idiots jumped me for a laugh. That'll work. Except it's plain I got excited. And he'll say "Who was it? We'll teach them a lesson". Oh f...k.

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"So you want to be tied?"

I nodded.

"Maybe not like I'm going to tie you."

They took the son and left the father tied up

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"Lawyer's boy, huh?" said the bald guy. "I don't take kindly to cocky, kid lawyers telling me their "serving notice" on me."

"They tied me, gagged me and....And they left me in the trunk of my car. I don't know where. The cops found me. I..."

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"Prepared for Anything". That was the motto. Few guys reached that. None talked about it after. Earle was told he had reached the final stage. The final stage, Sergeant Dillon said. Which would be physical and mental.

He had refused to talk, when they tried to make him. Only just managed it. But now he was almost there.

Then he saw the figure face down on a cot. Hands tied behind his back. Breathing slowly, breathing heavily.

Earle recognised the tied guy. Private Gill, who had been so sure of himself but had failed the last test.

"He failed, Private Earle. He talked. But he begged to prove himself. So OK he's been given a grid reference and that it's where two of the squad are. If he reveals it, they willl captured and given a tougher time than you had yesterday."

Dillon paused and handed Private Earle two hanks of cord. They walked over to the bound figure.

"Ankles tied first."

Earle obeyed. You couln't trust Gill. He mouthed off too much. Earle tied Gill's ankles tight. He saw Gill's chest heave.

"Lash 'em tight to the cot frame."

Earle did what he was told.

"Now his neck. You've been taught to tie a prisoner. Remember. No slip knots. No accidents. No escape."

Earle watched Gill's neck muscle throb, as he tied him to the head of the cot. Thought he head a sort of sob. Earle felt a moment of doubt.

Dillon nodded. "Good job. Fixed good."

"Final test, soldier. Make him talk. I'll be watching."

a shirtless military man is tied up on a cot at a campsite

ai generated image

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I struggled. He played about with me a bit and laughed.

"Know what, Steve, boy? Wrists OK. Ankles OK. But I'm going to have to retie those big shoulders of yours. Tie your elbows too, I guess. And this time, tight. And then I'll want to make you really squirm."

Someone doesn’t like the position they’re in. 

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I know Ben OK. Tough but subtle usually. But that day he turned up with two of his mates. One of them pushed in through the door past Ben. He stopped a moment and stared me in the face.

One guy stands in support holding the boy so the other can do some efficient rope work. Meanwhile, the third guy is responsible for closing the boy's mouth and keeping him quiet. This is what i call teamwork 😈

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"You are so mine!" he said.

My brain was still fugged, clouded. My wrists were tied tight.

"Mmmh. Mh"

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1947. Mwesi worried about young Derwent. Mwesi had got what they called white religion. He cared about people, even young Derwent, who had come out to take over the farm after the War, as soon as he was out of his public school (unregretted on both sides) and after his father had drunk himself back to Britain.

Mwesi had left his village in the Hill Country after he got white religion. He told Derwent how the people had chosen to keep the whites at bay. Keep their old ways.

“Paul Derwent? Good for nothing except manual labour and assertive f..king. If you like that sort of thing.” Well that’s what Rose Montague said to her friend Melissa Harroway. But Melissa wanted him, and had since he had come into the Europeans’ Club at the railhead with no jacket, no tie, like the respectable members, his shirt tight and wet with sweat across his back and shoulder muscles. Later he had climbed up the side of the respectable hotel where she was staying and, she had almost torn his shirt off his back and he had tied her hands with one of her silk stockings and f..ked her. And later still he had told her how she should come with him up to the Hill Country  and how he had learnt there was a sort of sacred place where a plant grew which they ate and it made their sex more powerful than than … anything. He had run out of words, and stared at her still tied up, as if he worshipped her, and incoherent like a boy with a man’s body, and shining with sweat.

And she agreed and came up to Paul’s farm. And Mwesi shook his head, even more so when Paul said they were leaving Mwesi in charge while they went up into the hills.

They had reached the hills and f..ked under the moon, and on the fourth day they had found the place with the strange flat stone and the bushes laden with fruit. He had grabbed two of the fruit and swallowed them and kissed her and produced rope from his shorts and tied her hands behind her back and said he would f..k her like never before.

They had appeared from nowhere, their faces enraged at the desecration. Paul stood his ground and his face was like an animal and his words just sounds. He fought frenziedly, using his fists like hammers. But in the end they brought him down and frog-marched him to a thorn tree a little distance away and tied him down tight with leather thongs over a thorn bush and flogged him with branches. Other men took stakes of wood and hammered them with rocks into the ground – four pieces, spaced well apart, close to the rock.

They took Derwent and untied him and carried him to the pieces of wood.

He was massively erect. He stared at Melissa. Four mean stretched him on the ground and others stretched and bound his wrists and legs to the pieces of wood. Leather thongs bit into his wrists and he twisted his head upwards and his body thrashed itself against the ground in rage and sexual frustration.

They brought one of the hill snakes, a type whose bite produced hours an agonising death. They carried it past Melissa and over to Derwent.

He was gasping with sexual desperation. She stared at his uncomprehending, fierce, beautiful face.

 Her hand were still tied, but she screamed. “Don’t hurt him any more. He didn’t mean it. He’s just a boy”.

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There is a profound and profoundly exciting mental disconnect between the body strapped and all but immobilised and his calculated pressure as I am gagged by an expert and realising moment by moment that my mind and expectation of what is going to happen to me can no longer express themselves except through the most pitiful sounds.

internet

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Wrists, elbows, ankles secured. No room for motion. Calm.

I looked up are the professor. He said,

"You are in a the perfect space. A beautiful space. Unable to resist. Calm.

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When you've agreed, watching a bondage scene, so your willpower is fuddled, or you're taken, watching a bondage scene. Oh f...k. I think. And then he says famous last words - "Just relax"

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So, Jamie boy, wakin' up?

Jamie stared dimly at his body in the wall mirror 6 foot away. At the unfamilar black fetish shorts. He half-remembered the needle they had shown him and the fingers pulling on his shirt buttons even before he passed out. His head dropped. He breathed in and managed to raise his tired head. He could see his stomach muscles defined by whatever they had pumped into him

So, Jamie boy, you know what you're here for?

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A weekend on the edge? Agreed.

Trussed, spread, vibrated. Vibrated

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"In you go, laddie", said Murdoch. They sat me in the bath, my arms tied and pressed back against the white enamel. The muzzle secure over my face. Murdoch's pal lifted my tied legs over the side of the bath. "You look comfortable", said Murdoch.

He paused, staring at the ropes.

"You agreed, laddie", he said. "Andy here, he heard you agree."

Another pause. Then he laughed. "All you have to do is nod Yes to whichever you agree to." He had already taken the shower from where its head had lain inside a holder on the wall. He turned the dial on the head to the strongest jet. "Now just nod Yes to one - hot. Or cold.

what would you do if you had this pretty boy all to yourself? if i was his kidnapper, ropelover98 would have a very bad night

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First time. "She must be desperate for me by now. And they're supposed to be my mates. My f...king best mates."

Brendan could hear his 'phone ringing from his holdall, placed high up on a beam. Like it was laughing at him. The third time. The first time he had struggled to his feet and managed a desperate jump. He had hit the floor hard.

It was simple. He had trained as usual with the rest of the team. He never missed the training. But it was the second time he had refused to go out Friday drinking after.

They didn't get it. She was special and hot as f..k for him. He only had to take of his shirt and she was at him with her lips, her teeth, her nails.

He had barely come out the shower and put on his shorts when they jumped him. Like it was a signal. They'd wrestled him down in the middle of the changing room and roped his wrists and ankles. And the Boss, who had nodded when he had told him about Linda and that he couldn't join them drinking, he had checked Barney's rope work and said Mike could get at the knot easy and tied it so the knot was on the far side of his wrists and then "for good measure" he had cinched the roped round between the wrists knotted the cinched ends underneath. Brendan had sworn until the spit was flying from his lips. And the Boss had said he had better gag him, and Brendan remembered suddenly shouting "Don't. Please". And he didn't know why he had shouted in fear, except the sudden stirring in his groin and the image of himself gagged and bound. Bound and gagged tight on the floor.

They'd put him in Ed's SUV and driven out in a convoy to the old barn on Ed's land. They'd laid him down and put his holdall and his shirt and jeans and such up on a beam. And he was lying there, thinking of Linda demanding body and his bound hands, and then lowering his bound wrists to his cock and soothing and exciting it. Soothing and feeding his erection and the sense of the ropes biting into his wrist and ankles.

He bit at the rope round his wrists. He contorted his upper body trying to reach the knots with this teeth. he thought "Linda, please, please come. And find me tied up and f...k me." He soothed and excited his aching cock. Soothed and excited.

"Hey, young man. I can see you're enjoying this."

The Boss was in the shadows. "Had a drink with the lads, like I should. And then said I had better come over and check you hadn't done yourself a mischief. I've heard of it happening."

"Let's see" he said quietly, sot of disapprovingly. He knelt down next to Brendan. "You have way too much of the lad in you. So you'll need these. It was a cheap silk tie and a large soft foam rubber ball. "Open!" And Brendan said "No" but opened his mouth to the soft rubber ball. The Boss said "Shush" and wrapped the tie twice round Brendan's open jaws and round the soft rubber ball which held them gently apart.

"I told the lads I would make sure you got safely home by morning."

a muscular shirtless guy is tied up with rope in his underwear in a barn

ai generated image

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"Hey, son! You are TENSE. Ropes something new, I guess."

Stu nodded. Uncertain movements more like shivering.

"Your neck needs - therapy. Yeah. Some massage now. That's it, son. Eyes closed. Feel that? Good huh?"

an athlete tied up by his coach with rope in a locker room

ai generated image

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The guy was talking, explaining That he was sorry to have taken Joe. That Joe looked so lovely - gagged like that. The guy's breath came fast and uncertain and he left the room. Joe lay against the couch and listened, listened, not even struggling yet.