The Intervention (M/M) - *30.10.24 COMPLETE*

[Straitjacketed]

Everyone probably knows, by now, that I love collaborating with other writers who share my love of bondage and that's exactly what this is: a shared collaborative story bounced back and forth between myself and another TUG member, reformatted slightly and published here with his permission. My parts of the narrative are in default font, his are in green.


The Intervention - part 1

(Co-written with @Squirrel)

Bruce:
40, head of his own construction firm (worked his way up in the industry), strong work ethic, keen biker, hangs out with his truck-driving bodybuilding younger brother Stevie.

Nate:
19, Bruce’s son, college-age guy, escape artist hobby has begun to take off; made some escapology videos (of basic handcuff escapes and lock picking) and picked up a surprisingly large YouTube/Twitch following.

---

Bruce
Escapology. Gettin’ loose from handcuffs, manacles, prison chains. Houdini shit.

Whatever I’d expected to be the reason for my son’s slippin’ grades over the past year, Houdini shit was not it.

I oughta back up a bit an’ explain. I’m Bruce, I’m thirtysomethin’… okay, dammit, forty (but I keep myself pumped an' fit enough to look of an age with my musclebound “little” brother Stevie) – an' I’m a single dad to Nate, the young guy I’m talkin’ about. After we lost Nate’s mother, I floundered for a bit, made some mistakes, but we pulled through an’ here we are.

Although Nate is the biggest pride an’ joy of my life, he’s not the only thing I’m proud of. I’ve done well career-wise. Straight from school, I went into construction – I’ve always been big-built, tall an’ strong, but also disciplined – an’ I kept my head down, worked hard, worked my way up through the ranks. Now I’ve got a team of men under me an’ I make enough that we’re comfortable, that I can cut loose at weekends, spend quality time with Nate or out ridin’ my motorcycle or just chillin’ on the porch with a beer an’ a cigar.

I like to think I’ve been a good father to the kid. I try to lead by example, but I don’t demand he follow me into my line of work – Hell no, I want him to pay more attention to the books than I did – and I genuinely believe we have a level of trust. That’s why it puzzled me when he started spendin’ a lot more time alone in his room an’ the aforementioned grades began to wobble.

Was there a special girl in his life? No. A special boy (hey, I’m not prejudiced, I just want him to be happy)? No. Alcohol? Seemingly not. Drugs? Ditto.

Well, I’m not proud of the fact that, rather than askin’ him up-front, I finally snapped and went snoopin’. In my defence, I was outta bright ideas, I didn’t know what was occupyin’ him.

What did I find? Books an’ pamphlets on ol’ Harry H an’ other escape artists, a loada cuffs an’ padlocks, a camera on a stand.

That’s when I confronted him. Nate had developed an interest that had grown into a fascination, he’d begun watchin’ then doin’ escapes online, he even had a live show – a show! – comin’ up at the mall. My son saw himself as the next Houdini.

I’ll be straight with ya: at first, I didn’t know how to react. I tried to understand – I read the book he lent me – but this didn’t seem any sort of career. From what I could see, escape guys hurt themselves on the regular an’ even when they didn’t, it was hardly what ya’d call steady income.

Nate has a thrawn streak, though, an’ there was no tellin’ him to buckle down an’ finish his schoolin’. I got the sense that the more I tried to talk him outta the whole thing, the more he’d dig his heels in.

So I got holda the resta his escape books, did my own reading… that’s when I came up with a plan. I called Stevie, we got holda some rope an’ the two of us began to practise…

Nate
All right, I guess the first thing I should do is the introduction, so he we go! My name is Nate, 19 years old, and I live in a medium size house in the suburbs with my father, Bruce. The guy is over forty now but keeps in a perfect shape; he hits the gym often with his younger brother, my uncle. They get along very well; they ride their bikes a lot, they like watching games and puffing on cigars together

Ok, now that you know my background, let me tell you a little more about myself. Unlike many guys my age, I am fascinated with the famous escape artist, Houdini. I don’t know why, but I was always excited whenever I saw a man all tied up and strictly gagged.

As I was growing older my fascination with the topic deepened and deepened with every passing year; I bought a lot of books about Houdini, watched TV programmes about him and as many clips on YouTube as I could find.

For quite some time now I was thinking about telling my father I wanted to become an escape artist, but I was too afraid to do so; after all, he is a typical alpha male, muscular and cocky, and I didn't think that telling him about my future carrier path would make him hop with joy. Even though I admire and love him I decided to keep this one part of me a secret.

It might seem weird, but for some time now I’ve been under the impression that my Dad knows about everything. Or something. He tried talking with me for a few times. He also cast me glances when he had a coil of rope or a roll of duct tape in his massive hands. Something was telling me that I should reveal my secret to him...

Bruce
When I eventually confronted him, Nate did tell me about the interest he’d developed, an’ I guess I was pleased about that – but I got the impression he was playin’ it down. Sure, he admitted to ownin’ the chains an’ cuffs I saw an’ he even showed me how to go about pickin’ a lock.

What he didn’t tell me directly was that he’d started doin’ actual escapes on camera. I had to figure that out from the set-up in his room an’ then do a lotta Googlin’ before I hit on “nate escapes” an’ found his YouTube channel. That’s where I learned about his first mall show.

Fast-forward to today, the day of Nate’s… I guess ya’d call it his Houdini debut.

He still didn’t know I knew, an’ I smiled to myself as he made a vague excuse about goin’ to hang with his friends. The day was bright an’ clear an’ I decided to take my cycle to the venue, pullin’ on my ridin’ leathers over a plain black T. My big ol’ boots took a moment to fasten up, I wriggled my fingers into my tight police gloves (the ones that protect from rope burn but allow me to feel through the thin leather) an’ grabbed my helmet.

Our plan was to meet there, Stevie in his truck with the gear we’d been testin’: two 50-foot lengths (although we were gonna claim it was only 25 feet total – like Nate was gonna know the difference) of good strong rope, braided cotton that I knew would “grip” an’ hold knots. An’ Lord knows we’d both been practisin’ our knots!

Stevie had a big rolla duct tape – camo, military issue – but I didn’t think we’d need that. He’d bundled everything up in the huge, olive-green rubberised canvas duffel bag we usually used for fishin’ equipment.

Anyway, when we tracked Nate down, he was up on a kinda stage out front of the mall. He’d gathered a respectable-sized crowd an’ seemed to be holdin’ their interest with some schtick about Houdini. We snuck to the back before he could see us an' we heard him before we saw him: Nate was talkin’ through a microphone – probably the hands-free one he’d bought with his birthday money – an’ I craned to get a glimpse.

I knew he was gonna finish with a challenge for the audience an’ I was gonna grab that opportunity to give my son a… what is it they say? A teachable moment…

To be continued...

[Bradstick]

Great work @Straitjacketed and @squirrel! I am excited where this series goes and what is in store for Nate!!!

[Straitjacketed]

Great work @Straitjacketed and @squirrel! I am excited where this series goes and what is in store for Nate!!!

Cheers! No idea why but I find collaborations so much faster and smoother than solo writing.

[Red86]

A so called escape artist in the making, this sounds interesting. I guess Nate is gonna end up in some inescapable bonds soon enough though judging by his father's and uncles plan

[Straitjacketed]

I'm going to be updating at quite a pace - this collaboration was short and sweet and I want to match that as I post it - so here's part 2, still in the Teaser Zone . Thanks to those who've commented so far: @Bradstick and @Red86.


The Intervention - part 2

(Co-written with @Squirrel)

Nate
The little talk I had with my father was a bit strange, but I felt kind of relieved that I finally opened up in front of him (not fully though) and shared my desire to become the next Houdini. We talked a little bit about the chains and handcuffs I had purchased a few months earlier and I even showed him my set of lock-picks.

What I didn't tell him though was the fact that I liked being restrained; loved the process of having my limbs getting useless, struggling, doing my best to escape and the thrill I felt when the bonds didn't budge...

Anyway, let's move on to the very special day, day of my first performance in front of an audience. I’m standing on a stage with quite a lot of people in front of me, mostly guys. They cheer and shout as my assistant cuffs my hands and legs. I’m nervous but manage to free myself in no time at all, making the audience explode with ovation.

The final part of the show is the audience challenge. I grab several pairs of handcuffs and coils of rope and show them to the people in front of me; I dare anyone in the crowd to come to the stage and restrain me any way they like. Now comes the biggest surprise in my life...

Bruce
This is the part I have to get right. When they call for volunteers, there’s usually a pause, right? A gap? Folks don’t wanna seem too eager.

Well, I have to jump right into that gap.

“HERE!” I holler, before he’s even finished askin’, “OVER HERE!”

I wave frantically, watch recognition spread over Nate’s face an’ wait for his reaction.

The crowd have all registered me so he can’t ignore my wavin’ arm. He could play along with me bein’ a random volunteer. He could say “that’s my Dad”, in which case I might have to get the audience on-side…

Nate
When I notice my father waving his muscular arm I am shocked at first, but then decide to go along with it. I announce to the audience that we apparently have a volunteer and encourage my father to come to the stage. I also decide not to say who the volunteer really is.

"Give the man an ovation!" I say to the microphone when my Dad stands next to me on the stage. Then something else comes into my mind and before I can think it over I add:

"You know what? If I can't escape within 5 minutes, you'll get half of your money back!"

To be continued...

[Red86]

Definitely still in teaser stage

I like Nate's thought process but seriously, he's probably about to get way more then he bargained for. Though who's to say he isn't gonna like it!

[blackbound]

Two @Straitjacketed collabs at the same time??? Is it Christmas already?

Let's see what our boy is getting himself into. Or his dad.

[Straitjacketed]

Keeping the momentum going - so here's part 3. Thanks to those who've commented so far: @Bradstick, @Red86 and of course @blackbound.


The Intervention - part 3

(Co-written with @Squirrel)

Bruce
Well, that went easier than expected!

As agreed, Stevie hangs back while I push through the crowd toward the stage. It’s a low platform an’ even in my heavy leathers I don’t have any problem clamberin’ up beside Nate.

It feels strange standin’ there an’ sizin’ my son up in fronta a loada people. He’s stripped to the waist, his young chest showin’ the first signs of muscle, an’ he’s got that hands-free mic hooked over his ears an’ in fronta his mouth.

He asks my name, I give it an’ he makes a crack about me havin’ come straight from a Hell’s Angel rally. I play along, feignin’ a little shyness.

Shakin’ hands – his fingers engulfed in my leather-gloved ones – feels oddly formal an’ for a moment, I’m not sure what to say, not sure how he’s gonna play it… but then Nate surprises me with a cocky boast about escapin’ in 5 minutes.

I raise an eyebrow but maintain my Random Member Of The Audience act.

“Ya sure?” I say, “I mean, I’m only gonna use rope but even so. It might take ya longer.”

When he confirms, I smile an’ examine Nate’s coil of rope, lyin’ among the handcuffs. As I expected from readin’ his escape books, it’s way thick – maybe an inch in diameter – an’ new enough to be quite stiff. Too stiff to hold an honest knot: he’d look dramatic for sure with alla this wound around him but without proper knots, he could wriggle free of the whole mess in no time at all.

Challenge accepted, I turn to the crowd an’ raise my voice.

“I’ve got my own rope – an’ my own lovely assistant. Say hello to Stevie!”

Stevie jogs up to the stage an’ joins us, shoulderin’ the big military-green duffel bag. He hands me a hanka the quarter-inch braided cotton, nice an’ supply from our own practice sessions. The middle of the rope already has the first two loops formed an’ ready, interlockin’ slip knots – it’s like a bow tie with 50 feeta trailin’ ends – an’ I signal that Nate’s hands should go through.

When he holds ‘em out in front I shake my head.

“Nuh uh. Wrists behind.”

I take a moment to savour the look on my son’s face – a little flicker of hesitation? – before he turns an’ presents his wrists to me. Stevie moves to stand in front, holdin’ Nate’s shoulders to steady him an' starin' him down like some sorta cop.

I get to work.

Nate
When my father, fully dressed in his leather biker outfit stands next to me I am suddenly overwhelmed by his super masculine sight and scent. For a moment I am totally absorbed in him and have to shake my head a little to shake off the admiration towards my Dad

The moment he invites his so called assistant I know that those two are up to something nasty; both my father and uncle love pranks and fun and I have a weird feeling that this time I will be the one who will be hit by their joke. But it's too late to withdraw...

"All tight!" I say as I put my crossed arms behind my back. "Do whatever you want, guys! Tie me up as well as you can!" I challenge them; it sends a shiver down my spine

"You asked for it..." I hear my father's deep masculine voice when he grabs my wrists with his leather gloved palms...

Bruce
“Tie me up as well as you can!" challenges Nate, and I shake my head a little, wonderin’ at this stage persona he’s developed.

“You asked for it..."

Grabbing Nate’s wrists, I push ‘em through the loops, pull the long cord snug and knot it, so it’s like he’s wearin’ a paira rope handcuffs. I make that knot good an’ unslippable.

That’s just the start. I know bindin’ the hands is key to this whole thing an’ I take my time doin’ it right. With one gloved hand, I hold his wrists crossed, palms facin’ outward an’ spin a few more loops horizontally, jerkin’ tight an’ knottin’ (just above, outa reach of his fingers) before changin’ direction an' loopin’ vertically to give a neat square lashin’, the way I’d lash fenceposts together to hold out against the most violent storm. I secure the vertical lashin’ with more knots, again above an’ inside the wrists, well outa Houdini’s reach.

Finally, I run rope around between horizontal an’ vertical bindings, pulling it tight so everythin’ cinches up.

The leather of my gloves protects me from rope burn so I’m able to really put muscle into every knot, sometimes bracin’ a leathered knee up against Nate’s back so I can keep tension, haulin’ everythin’ as tight as tight can be.

When I’m done, his wrists are held crossed, solid as iron; my boy has circulation (his skin hasn’t gone white) but movement is restricted to flexin’ his fingers. Many feeta rope “tail” hang on either side.

“Still feelin’ confident?”

To be continued...

[Straitjacketed]

Two @Straitjacketed collabs at the same time??? Is it Christmas already?

Hahah, you're very kind. This particular collab - like our own - happened quickly and was easy to write.

Let's see what our boy is getting himself into. Or his dad.

Son/father bondage is a popular trope here on TUGs but this is my first stab at it.

[Bradstick]

How interesting! Nate just let his dad tie him up with no qualms. I am excited to see where this goes next!

[ChairBoy]

There’s nothing I love more than a dad story! Super hot!

[Straitjacketed]

Keeping it snappy, here's part 4. Thanks to those who've commented: @Bradstick, @Red86, @blackbound and @Chairboy.


The Intervention - part 4

(Co-written with @Squirrel)

Nate
I have to admit that for quite some time now I’ve been wondering how it would be to be tied up by my father and now I have the chance to experience it; as expected he proves to be an expert. After all, he’s always told me that whenever I do something I have to do it perfectly and right.

The touch of his leather gloved hands on my wrists and the multiple layers of rope feels incredible. My wrists are completely stuck behind my back; I am my own father's prisoner. I look behind me and see a cocky smile on his handsome face. When I look into his eyes there are sparkles of amusement in them; I guess he’s sort of challenging me.

"Tight, but I think I will be able to escape this, Sir!" I tell him and wait for his next move.

Bruce
‘Sir’?! I have to hand it to Nate, his stage patter is convincin’. He seems to be goadin’ me, though, uppin’ the stakes of the challenge.

An’ I am HERE for that!

“Confidence,” I say, “I like that. We’re just gettin’ started, Houdini-boy. Keep your eyes forward.”

As if to reinforce my words, Stevie tightens his grip on Nate’s shoulders - like he’s in danger of runnin’ away - an’ grins into his face.

Now, I’m powerful enough but Stevie’s a veritable muscle-god. With no commitments beyond his doorman job, he practically lives in the gym, powerlifts an’ builds muscle like it’s goin’ outta fashion.

Nate’s his only nephew an’ Stevie dotes on the kid but that doesn’t stop him playin’ every prank under the sun. Which is my way of sayin’ he’s 1000% on-board with this little stunt.

Stevie’s in his camo trousers, t-shirt an’ lace-up combat boots but I’d given him a spare pair of my leather gloves so he wouldn’t get rope burn.

I gather up the long “tails” of rope an’ pass them between my son’s legs, through his crotch. In the move we practised, Stevie takes his hands offa Nate’s shoulders to grab an’ separate the ropes, an’ it’s my turn to steady the kid from behind as my musclebound brother *yanks* on the two ropes, holds the tension an’ passes ‘em back to me around the sides of Nate’s body.

In our practice sessions, we worked out that the best way to keep a captive’s hands from travellin’ is to rope ‘em downwards, nice an’ tight.

Nate moves his feet apart a little, maintainin’ his balance. I’m busy threadin’ each rope through the gap between his arms an’ his torso an’ without lettin’ any slack develop, pass both ropes under the crotch again.

We do the shoulder-grip swapover again an’ Stevie, waggling his eyebrows at Nate, gives the ropes another almighty jerk, almost pullin’ the kid off his feet.

Before Nate can recover his balance - let alone try any of those sneaky little Houdini-tricks I’ve read about - my brother’s passed both ropes around the sides again, between arms an’ torso an’ I’ve tied a square knot in the middle of Nate’s lower back.

Now my son’s solidly bound wrists are pulled down as tight as they can go - fixed immovably to his ass - an’ I still have at least half the length of the rope left to play with…

Nate
I am quite surprised when my father and uncle move the ropes under my crotch, but the really strange thing happened soon after that: as the ropes were brushing my groin I sported a hard-on and I was sure that my uncle, who was in front of me, noticed it.

I did my best to stand still as the two super muscular alpha males worked their magic on me and the more rope was wrapped around my torso, the less confident I felt. Of course, there was no way I could show it, but to me it was clear that I would have much trouble escaping their bonds.

I looked my uncle in the eye and he winked at me. I moaned when his leather gloved hands were keeping me still and then when I felt my Dad's bear like palms holding me in place when his brother was roping me up

I started to think what was really going on...

To be continued...

[blackbound]

Oh Nate. I think you may have bitten off more than you can chew - and that's long before the likely gag!

[Straitjacketed]

Oh Nate. I think you may have bitten off more than you can chew - and that's long before the likely gag!

Ohhh yes.

[Straitjacketed]

Our rollicking ride continues! Thanks, as always, to our little core of commenters: @Bradstick, @Red86, @blackbound and @Chairboy.


The Intervention - part 5

(Co-written with @Squirrel)

Bruce
It's not a deathly hot day but I’m gettin’ warm out there with all the exertion so I unzip the neck of my bike jacket a few inches.

I then grab the “tails” of rope an’ pass ‘em either side of Nate’s waist to Stevie. I reach around my son’s body an’ hide creaks as I take holda him with my brawny leather arms an’ pull backwards at the exact same time as my brother hauls on both ropes with alla his might then ties a second square knot right over Nate’s navel.

Our little manoeuvre musta constricted his waist by a good couple inches, makin’ a sorta super-tight belt of rope. I hear some people in the audience gasp and I wonder if Nate’s gonna complain or make a fuss. I get the impression he’s a little wobbly on his feet but he isn’t tryin’ to stop us – if anythin’, he seems to be jokin’ around with Stevie – so we continue the ropin’.

We reinforce the “rope belt” by loopin’ the two “tails” around his waist a few times, back-to-front, front-to-back, an’ Stevie puts a load arm muscle into tyin’ more securin’ knots, again at the front of Nate’s waist, just above the top of his pelvis so there’ll be no slippin’ down.

We know what we’re doin’. Now my kid’s bound wrists are cemented tight in to his lower back as well as down to his ass; not only can he not move ‘em in any direction but we’re bein’ careful to put all the important knots at the front of his body. That way, even if by some miracle he manages to get some slack into his hands, they’re well outta reach of his fingers.

Nate jumps around a little from foot to foot but there’s still some length in the rope “tails”. Usin’ the front of the “rope belt” as an anchor, Stevie threads the ends under each armpit, over my son’s shoulders an’ crosses ‘em over his chest. He then loops each end around an elbow an’ pulls the ropes back to the front, tyin’ a final square knot at the bottom of Nate’s sternum. This pulls his elbows apart (creatin’ tension against the fixin’ of his wrists) an’ pulls ‘em tightly against the back of his ribs.

My son’s arms are now completely immobilised. To get any looseness at all – to even begin undoin’ the long length of rope bindin’ him up – Nate would have to start with that sternum knot an’ it’s riiiiight in the middle of the front of his body, where he’s got zero chance of reachin’ it.

Stevie pauses, reachin’ in to the duffel bag for the second hank of rope.

Nate
As my captors keep roping my upper body they start perspiring; I notice a few beads of sweat forming on my uncle's forehead and notice that my father unzipped his neck a little bit. For some reason I am proud of myself; it seems that they had to use much more brute force to restrain me than they thought would be necessary.

But that doesn't change the fact that the two super handsome and muscular alpha males know their job well; I suspected that in the army they had learned how to keep a man tied up, but what they were doing to me exceeded my expectations a lot!

With every passing second my arms were getting more and more immobile and at some point I understood how hard, or even impossible, it would be to escape. Dad and uncle were super confident about their skills and I had to admit they had every right to feel so.

"All right, the kid's arms are done! Who thinks we should bind his legs together??" My father asks the audience loudly.

Bruce
I kinda worry the audience might turn against us – it’s pretty clear Nate is the underdog an’ we’re takin’ it all more seriously than most volunteers in this situation would – but they cheer enthusiastically at the suggestion that we move on to bindin’ his legs.

Tough crowd, Houdini.

Stevie takes a moment to blow a kiss (makin’ some girls near the front giggle) an’ then he moves closer to steady Nate, bracin’ against him with one beefy arm holdin’ his shoulder an’ the other around his waist. The wannabe-escapist has gone quiet so I taunt him a bit (“given up hope already?”) while uncoilin’ the second rope.

As practised (and Stevie an’ I had a lot of fun with those practice sessions), I use a simple Lark’s Head knot to link the middle of the rope to the numerous bonds around his crossed wrists. We realised leg ropin’, however tight, can slip or be worked downwards an’ securin’ it to the hands makes that impssible.

My brother stops Nate from fallin’ over as I bind an’ cinch above an’ below his knees, yankin’ the loops and knottin’ as I go. I’m careful, this time, to position the knots at the front, the other side of his body from his fingers. Good luck gettin’ near those!

“Time for Houdini to hit the deck!” I call out, an’ Stevie an’ I lower my son down onto his belly.

Stevie crouches to hold Nate’s head an’ neck still – like he’s gonna try to resist – an’ I bend the kid’s knees so his heels are right up against his ass. My leathers creak an’ pull tight around my thighs as I kneel astride his legs, makin’ sure he’s as folded up as possible.

I take my time loopin’ the rope around Nate’s ankles, pullin’ it tight then completin’ the hogtie by threadin’ it through what little space remains between his crossed wrists an’ his butt, bringin’ it down again an’ usin’ it to cinch the ankle tie.

There’s still plenty of rope left over, so I lash the soles of his shoes together, cinchin’ at the instep.

His ankles are already pulled up good an’ tight an’ all that remains is ensurin’ the ends of the rope are where he can’t reach ‘em. With Stevie’s help, we roll Nate onto his back an’ bring the cords around either side of his waist, where there’s already the tight “rope belt”. I haul hard, usin' Nate’s own bodyweight to eliminate' any last millimetre of slack.

The final knot is right there at the front, just above the waistband of his shorts. Maybe if he craned his neck, he could see it but it’s so far outta his reach, it might as well be on the surface of the Moon.

This is tirin’ work. Risin’ to my feet, I unzip an’ remove my jacket (but not the gloves), revealin’ the sweat-soaked black t-shirt underneath.

“Okay, Houdini,” I smirk at the escapist lookin’ back up at me, “get outta that.”

To be continued...

[blackbound]

This could really go either way depending on how good Houdini is... he seems concerned but not panicked yet.

I'm honestly not sure who I'm rooting for!

[Straitjacketed]

Bowling along at a rate of (ho ho) knots, here's part 6! Thanks to everyone who's commented: @Bradstick, @Red86, @blackbound and @Chairboy.


The Intervention - part 6

(Co-written with @Squirrel)

Nate
When Dad and his brother finish binding my arms I already know I am stuck for good. I try struggling a little to see if there is any room left for me to use, but all is extra tight and neat and there is absolutely no slack.

The cheering of the audience seemed to encourage the two alphas to bind me even more; it feels weird standing in front of my father, wearing only the underwear, as he used the rope to secure my legs together. The smell of the leather jacket, gloves and his natural, super masculine scent is overwhelming and intoxicating. I let the two brutes do their work

When they lay me on the floor on my stomach I try looking around. All I can see is Dad and Uncle's leather boots, creaking and shiny.

I'm shocked when Dad bends my legs and starts applying a super tight hogtie. I have never been secured so well, but I love the feeling. When he takes off his jacket he puts it next to me; I take several deep breaths to inhale the wonderful scent.

"All right, Mr. Houdini! You have 5 minutes to escape!" I hear my Dad's deep, masculine voice.

Bruce
Nate is almost motionless and sayin’ nothin’, so I worry that he might’ve fainted or somethin’.

“Come on then, escape artist,” I repeat, nudgin’ him with my boot, “ESCAPE!”

Nate
I moan and try my best, but it's clear that Dad and Uncle did an amazing job.... there is no way for me to escape even though I struggle and moan a lot.

Bruce
I must admit, I'm a little surprised. Surprised an'... disappointed, maybe?

I look at Stevie, who shrugs.

"You had a lot to say a few minutes ago, Houdini. Where's the bravado now?"

I kneel down (with difficulty, due to the tightness of my bike leathers around my thighs) next to Nate. I get that he can't move much but his sudden quietness (beyond moanin’) is worryin’ me.

"Seriously, kid. You okay?"

Nate
I struggle furiously, but it does me no good. Soon I am all covered in sweat. When my Dad squats down, his amazing smell and scent fill my nostrils.

"Absolutely fine Sir! Don't worry about me...

Bruce
“Okay,” I say, resistin’ the urge to tousle my son’s hair, “you’ve got about two minutes left.”

Just to be annoyin’, I pick up my bike jacket and drop it on his head.

Checkin’ my watch, I do a countdown of the final ten seconds. When we get to zero an’ Nate’s still as tightly trussed up as ever, I pull my jacket aside an’ carefully remove the hands-free microphone from him, settlin’ it over my own ears.

“Well, it looks like Houdini here, uh, HouDIDN’T. You could say he’s HouDONE.”

Not my best but everyone appreciates a Dad-joke.

“I gotta let you guys into a secret. This isn’t the first time we’re meetin’. I’m the escape artist’s Dad, this is his Uncle Stevie right here.”

Stevie waves and flashes the front-row girls a smile.

“It’s the enda the show, so we’re here to take him home; he’s got college work to do. Any objections, Houdini?”

Stevie has already produced the big roll of camo duct tape an’ a part of me is hopin’ Nate DOES object…

To be continued...

[ChairBoy]

I hope he does object too!

[Straitjacketed]

I hope he does object too!

Well, the next episode's going to be the finale, so let's see...

[Bradstick]

“I gotta let you guys into a secret. This isn’t the first time we’re meetin’. I’m the escape artist’s Dad, this is his Uncle Stevie right here.”

Stevie waves and flashes the front-row girls a smile.

“It’s the enda the show, so we’re here to take him home; he’s got college work to do. Any objections, Houdini?”

Very hot story but I would absolutely not let them take him if I was in the audience. I want some proof to make sure they are just kidnapping some actual kid.

I’m excited to see what the finally holds in store! Fantastic work you two!

[Straitjacketed]

Very hot story but I would absolutely not let them take him if I was in the audience. I want some proof to make sure they are just kidnapping some actual kid.

I reckon you are considerably more responsible than the average bystander!

[Straitjacketed]

Here, folks, is part 7 - the finale! Thanks to those of you who took the time to comment: @Bradstick, @Red86, @blackbound and @Chairboy.


The Intervention - part 7 (finale)

(Co-written with @Squirrel)

Nate
I do whatever I can to wiggle my hands of the bonds, but Dad's masterwork is too much for me. I sense that the two brutes are having a lot of fun at the moment...

When Dad's leather biker jacket lands on my head I gasp with anger. I try to shake it off but can't do it.

When Dad announces to the audience who him and his companion really are, I feel strangely anxious. It is clear that the two of them have something in their minds, so I immediately start protesting and renew all my attempts to free myself

I feel a shiver down my spine when I hear my father saying that they are taking me home...

"What?! Dad, come on, untie me, now!!"

Bruce
I grin. The “Sir” was startin’ to unnerve me. “Dad” I know how to deal with.

I strip off my black t-shirt (more of a wife-beater, really, since I scissored off the arms to stop 'em bunchin' up under my ridin' leathers) which is soaked with perspiration. I ball it up between my gloved palms until it’s as tightly compressed as I can make it. It’s still at least the size of an orange, maybe a grapefruit.

“I think we’ve heard enough from Houdidn’t.”

I crouch down an’ whip my bike jacket off Nate’s head. Before he realises what’s goin’ on, that big ol’ wad of sweat-soaked cloth is between his teeth and I’m forcin’ it deep into his maw and sideways into every other part of his oral cavity, so it’s pushin’ his tongue down an’ his cheeks out.

One of my leather-gloved hands keeps it there – my fingers sealin’ it all in an’ even comin’ up over his nose – an’ my other hand holds Nate’s head still for Stevie to do the honours.

Stevie’s obviously been practisin’ this move. He’s got a coupla pieces of the camo tape ready an’ the first thing he does is make a big X centred on my son’s mouth (I move the coverin’ hand downwards so it’s outta the way but still clampin’ Nate’s jaw shut. He can’t spit that wad out no matter how hard he tries).

Stevie then takes the whole roll an’ spools it around an’ around. I’m concentratin’ on holdin’ his target still an’ I lose count but he musta made at least a dozen loops around the kid’s face. I assume he’s done but no, he turns the loop 90 degrees an’ makes another few turns under Nate’s chin an’ over the top of his head.

I take my hands away an’ we check our handiwork.

“What’s that?” I ask, holding a hand to my ear, “I can’t quite make out what you’re sayin’, Houdidn’t. Was it thank you an' goodbye to all these nice ladies’ an’ gentlemen?”

I pick my jacket offa the ground an’ shrug it on over my bare chest. It feels good to be fully leathered up again. I do the zip up an' buckle the belt.

Nate
I struggle and moan, trying to beg my leather clad father to release me. When he takes his leather jacket off my head I feel a glimpse of hope. Unfortunately it quickly disappears when he brutally starts forcing something into my mouth. The moment the giant wad touches my lips and tongue I moan in disgust; the cloths is drench with Dad's sweat and absolutely disgusting. It's also huge, but the muscular biker manages to force it all into my yap.

I groan furiously, but this makes no impact on my captors. Uncle Steve uses the giant roll of super strong duct tape to seal my Dad's sweaty shirt in my mouth, clearly enjoying his power. He has a devilish smile on his face when we wraps the wide tape around my head.

"Mmmmhhhh!"

Once I am completely bound and gagged my father grabs his jacket and puts it on his shirtless, sweaty body. I stay on my stomach, trying to hide the bulge in my shorts...

Bruce
“Let’s get everythin’ bagged up,” I say, an’ a grinnin’ Stevie doesn’t need a second tellin’. He’s got the big green fishin’ duffel bag open an’ waitin’.

It’s heavy rubberised canvas, juuust big enough to take a hogtied 19-year-old up to the neck. Nate doesn’t seem to like this much but he ain’t in a position to object as we lever him in, knees-first.

“Be thankful your head’s free,” I advise him as I jerk on the draw-cords an’ knot ‘em around his neck.

“Aww nephew,” smirks Stevie, “you look like an angry caterpillar. It kinda suits ya.”

I was gonna scoop up Nate’s equipment - cuffs, rope, a length of chain - but, in a moment of devilry, I decide to start wrappin’ all of it on the outside of the rubberised package.

We don’t do a super-skilled job with the rope, just wind it around an’ knot it. Same with the chain, except I use the cuffs to secure it at the ends.

Now Nate looks like a real escape artist, all bagged an’ roped an’ chained up.

“Let’s get you to the truck,” I say.

With a last wave at the audience (who seem, oddly, to have enjoyed this non-escape), Stevie an’ me take an end each of our trussed-up parcel an’ start pushin’ our way through the crowd.

Nate
I look in disbelief at my father and uncle as they force me into the large bag. I moan and try begging them, but the smirks on their handsome faces tell me it's no use.

"Mmmhhhh...."

As we pass the crowd I try to beg some men closest to me, but they just cheer my captors up and encourage them to keep me restrained and gagged.

"mmmhhhh!"

Bruce
The crowd, in general, seems amused rather than concerned at a Houdini-wannabe bein’ taken off home by his father and uncle.

“He looks pretty angry,” grins one middle-aged guy in jeans and work boots, jokin’ that “in fact, he’s fit to be tied!” Another shakes my hand, makin’ a comment about how he oughta do the same when his kid steps outta line.

Stevie’s pickup is parked a little distance away an’ there’s no-one around to see us heave my bike up over the lowered tailgate an’ use securin’ straps to fasten it to one side of the bed. We do the same with Nate, still hogtied, bound an’ chained, gagged an’ bagged up, strappin’ him down to the other raised side of the truck. With the tailgate raised, he won’t be visible (except maybe to megatruckers sittin’ high offa the road).

“It sure is easy dealin’ with you when you’re portable,” I laugh, rufflin’ my son’s hair, “I should truss you up more often”.

Stevie gives me a hand up. I’m gonna be ridin’ up back with my two most precious possessions: my bike an’ Nate.

“Hold up,” says my brother, a thoughtful look on his face, “I’m thinkin’ it’s not safe for the kid to travel like that.”

He hands me up my helmet.

“Protection.”

It's a bit of a struggle but with Stevie’s help we get it on him an’ strapped under his chin. His eyes glare out from the open visor.

“Let’s make extra sure he doesn’t get bugs in his face,” says Stevie, mock-innocent.

His own military-green vest, dark with sweat, is off an’ he’s stuffin’ it into the helmet, coverin’ Nate’s eyes an' nose (the only parts of his face not covered in camo duct tape). The visor snaps shut.

Tailgate up, I seat myself, stretched out in my leathers so my back’s braced up against my bike an’ my booted feet against my squirmin’, helpless, bagged, gagged an’ helmeted son.

“This,” I tell him, “has been an intervention.”

Grinnin’, I bang on the back of the truck an’ Stevie starts up the engine.

The End

[blackbound]

Perfect ending - I love the helmet and additional "stuffing" for it. I wonder whether "Houdini" learned something from it - I guess he can try to escape off-screen after the narration ends...

[DeeperThanRed]

Always think twice before sharing your hobbies with your parents!

Great work from both authors - such a fun and easy to read story which manages to be hot, wholesome and funny at the same time.

[blackbound]

Always think twice before sharing your hobbies with your parents!

Great work from both authors - such a fun and easy to read story which manages to be hot, wholesome and funny at the same time.

Now, now, the same holds true for your collaborations with @Straitjacketed!