Sweaty Tie-Up Saga (mm/mm)

[Carnath]

Ooooh. That sounds good!

I was just thinking... with all those traps and abductions... don't you think that chloroform could be useful to these kids here?

[Bondwriter]

Thanks for the comment, Blackbound. Hey, Chloroboy. No chloroform in sight with these characters. I could see it used in other settings, with actual kidnapping/ abduction.

Poor Rémi doesn't seem able to get a break, with or without sleep-inducing chemicals...

Chapter 9 – Between a Rock and a Hard Place

Rémi recovered, and managed to lubricate his parched mouth with a few gulps that made him salivate.

“Thank you, guys, thank you so much… No, my cousins are your size; they’re younger than me.”

“What? You get tied up by younger boys? You’re a perv and a wuss?”

Rémi blushed. There was no gag to justify his silence this time. He racked his brains to come up with something.

“I’m not! And you really should untie me quickly, who knows if they’re not going to come back earlier than they said? You’re no match for them!”

“We’ve got a hostage if they want to fight us.”

Marc had his hands over his hips, showing his determination and dominating stance; he leaned towards Rémi, letting his words sink in.

“Please, no, untie me; I will do anything you ask me.”

The newcomers looked at each other. Rémi thought he caught Théo winking.

“OK, then,” the fair-haired one convened, “Let’s do this.”

The boys got busy around Rémi, getting on their knees again to remove the ropes binding him to the beam. They had him stand, and they tackled the chest harness.

“So, your name is Rémi and you got abducted by your cousins, who caught you in your sleep.”

“Of course,” Rémi replied, going for as low and manly a voice as he could, “They wouldn’t manage to get me bound if I struggled.”

“Do they also wank you?”

Rémi wasn’t too fond of the sex questions. He didn’t feel like confiding in boys two or three years younger about his intimate life.

“You had him blush, Marc, that’s a bit indiscrete. His red face says they did!”

Rémi mumbled a few unintelligible words.

“I like your cousins already,” Théo smiled, “and how long did they plan to keep you bound and gagged.”

“The whole weekend,” Rémi answered shyly.

“This is ambitious. Let’s get you out of these ropes and see how you can serve us.”

The boys were almost done with the job at hand; Rémi couldn’t help but notice the care they took in releasing him. They seemed apt at making neat coils of the rope they removed from his body. Eventually, Rémi was totally free of bonds.

“Thank you! Thank you! I won’t be able to thank you too much.”

Rémi almost hugged them, but it could be deemed in poor taste so he stayed with his arms along his sides, looking at the boys’ smiling faces. He repeated his offer from a few minutes previous.

“I’ll do all you ask me.”

The boys exchanged a look, and smiled after hearing his offer. Théo turned to Rémi.

“Now we freed your mouth, you may start by sucking our dicks. Seeing you cum got me a bit randy,” Théo smirked, showing how his member pushed the thin shiny fabric of the trousers. Rémi wanted to get many answers; but gag or not, he was a bit at a loss for words and he didn’t dare ask questions. Action seemed easier at the moment. Rémi got over his knees in front of Théo, waiting for instructions. The long shaft pushing through the satiny fabric looked promising; it wasn’t a little boy’s size.

“Get my trousers down.”

Rémi reached with his fingers but a click of the tongue stopped him.

“With your teeth. Don’t bite me and don’t pull on my pubes!”

Rémi leaned forward. The smell didn’t fit the boyish looks of the lad. There was a faint but very distinct smell of cum, it got even stronger as his nose got closer to the crotch. Rémi pulled the waistband with his lips, making space for pushing a bit further and catching its edge with his teeth. He could feel hair as he started pulling it down.

The stranger wore no underwear; Rémi fumbled to get the waistband over the erect prick. He succeeded at the third attempt, letting the six-inch sausage spring up and slap his face. There was a crown of light hair at the base, indicating the boy had entered puberty a while back. The kneeling servant didn’t wait for instructions and grabbed the knob with his lips.

Rémi knew how to get a mean hard-on from his friends with his lips and the tip of his tongue. He exercised his skill, appreciating the salty and musky taste of the handsome youth’s nubile cock. Rémi leaned in further, taking the cock further down his throat.

Théo made little yelps and jerked his hips around until he came. He let a long sigh out; in the end, it turned into a laugh.

“Oh! Oh! He’s so good at it, Marc! You’ve got to give him a try.”

The boy still had his cock inside Rémi’s mouth; a conscientious cocksucker, the older teen pumped it from all its juice before Théo took a step back. Marc stepped in front, eager to take his turn. He lowered his trousers, then the shiny Speedos underneath, to reveal a slightly smaller but no less eager manhood. The little crown of black hair matched the sizable erection; Rémi wasn’t made to perform sexual favours to little boys.

He sucked and pumped with great skill and eagerness. He realized he’d felt no qualm obeying the orders of complete strangers. What if his cousins caught them and decided to have them share Rémi’s fate? At the prospect of having companions in bonds, Rémi felt a bit of a tingle in his loins. His licking and pumping intensified, which got the recipient of his oral care just where they both wanted to end. Marc exploded and Rémi accompanied his orgasm, sucking on the young prick and swallowing all the liquid. Marc withdrew and Rémi got back to his feet, cleaning his mouth with his jersey sleeve.

“This was a nice start, Rémi. Now turn around and put your wrists behind your back.”

“I did what you wanted,” the older boy complained meekly.

“You said you’ll do ‘all’ we want you to do. Not just one thing.” The pretty boy’s logic, and his fierce and piercing blue eyes were too much for Rémi; he no longer could think clearly. He spun on his heel, offering his hands joined palm to palm.

The cold of the metal and the click that resounded in the barn, along with the tightening of steel bracelets around his wrists informed Rémi that something serious was brewing. He felt a chill up his spine, wondering if he should have used the short time when he was free of restraints to run away; it was too late now for such a try.

The two friends were busy with some solid rigging. Marc started weaving ropes around his torso, looping them around his arms, pinning them against him, and having his chest push forward. Théo undertook criss-crossing rope from his wrists to his elbows.

“It’ll be tougher for him to fight us,” Théo explained. “Now we can take him to our lair, Marc.”

“Lair? Taking me away? Please, no, I thought you’d leave me here for my cousins, you can’t whisk me away without telling them…”

Rémi pleaded his case, which had the two accomplices trade another loaded look. They cast a glance at Rémi, and both bent in two and removed their right shoe’s laces, shucked them off, peeled off their socks and quickly put their now bare feet back inside their respective sneakers.

“I won’t tell anyone I gave you blowjobs, promised, let me out!”

“Shut up, intruder. You broke into my grandfather’s barn,” Marc said in a more serious voice, “We’ll gag you so you don’t warn anyone we detain you for your punishment.”

The smell warned Rémi of the lack of hygiene, or maybe rather of the interest his abductors had into getting the most fragrant results from their sneakers and their sweaty teenage feet.

The prospect of having such repulsive footwear stuffed in his mouth got Rémi to keep his mouth closed this time. He clamped his jaws shut and pursed his lips.

Théo looked into his eyes, and shook his head in disbelief.

“I can’t believe it; we’ve got a little rebel on our hands.”

He slid a hand inside Rémi’s shorts, and grabbed the base of his cock with his thumb and index finger he turned into a strong ring. This tightened his scrotum over his balls. The little tug Théo gave got the message across. Rémi knew that one strong pull would hurt a lot. Théo’s three available fingers twitched lightly; they tightened their grip on the ball sack, just enough to give Rémi an idea of what could happen. Eyes locked in his prisoner’s, Théo smirked. Rémi gulped, parting his lips ever so slightly and letting a small sigh out, before clamping his jaws shut again.

“If you know what’s good for you, you’d better take it like a man, open your gob and accept our gift without making trouble.”

The boy threatened Rémi in a relaxed, casual manner. His touch had delivered the true message that he was about to pounce and cause maximal pain yanking over what he held. Marc frowned at Rémi, bringing the odorous package he held in hand closer to its target. Defeated, Rémi opened his mouth, taking some solace in the small volume of the ball of ankle socks. Marc’s returning grin brought some comfort too.

“Wider!”

Rémi complied, keeping his eyes closed, which didn’t protect him from the intruding bundle. He caught a whiff as it passed under his nostrils. There was a smell of feet indeed, a very strong one but that also caused some positive emotion in Rémi. The grip over his genitals disappeared, with Théo removing his hands from inside the shorts. He needed it to press over Rémi’s mouth, and keep his jaws closed. The taste wasn’t as bad as he thought it would be, but spitting the footwear out was out of the question.

Marc got a roll of tape, which Rémi’s cousins must have forgotten there. They plastered strips over his lower face and used the scarf that had been bound across his face just as they’d found it, using it as an over the mouth layer which kept the adhesive tight against his skin.

This was a much more lenient gag than his cousins’, though he dreaded salivating, which would happen at a moment or another. This would certainly make it more difficult to bear.

The boys bent over to hobble Rémi’s knees. His father’s coat was on a bench a few metres away and they picked it and threw it over Rémi’s shoulders. They didn’t bother pulling the hood up or attempting to conceal the gag.

“Follow me,” Marc ordered. He spun on his heel and headed to the back of the barn. On the opposite side of the large entrance gate, a door opened on the meadow behind. With Théo just behind him, a hand laid over his shoulder to remind him of his captors’ control, Rémi stepped outside, following Marc’s steps. There were hedges and walls all around; Rémi had never come inside, but he could spot in the distance landmarks for him: the hill with the hunting lodge, the silhouette of the abandoned asylum…

He predicted correctly from the direction they took that they should end at the large house that was located on another lane. This was Marc’s grandfather’s house, which meant the boy didn’t lie. This was where the barn’s owner lived, and he was at least sixty.

Rémi didn’t really relish the idea of being brought as a trophy to the old man. Théo must have felt his reluctance. His grasp grew stronger.

“No funny stuff, or else…”

Rémi walked on. The meadow ended, and the path went through a low wall separating it from the garden. The house was in the distance, but with trees and coppices, they could see the roof only.

Marc didn’t take the most likely path leading to the mansion. He turned and they walked through woods for sixty or seventy metres before they came out in a clearing. There lied a small dwelling, a simple house with its red tiles roof and its brick chimney, white walls and small doors and windows.

This was a charming little cottage, and it felt quite remote to Rémi, who tried to visualize how far he was from any house or even road. Even were he not gagged, he doubted he could warn anyone of his captive state. He felt a tingle at the nape of his neck, and not as a result of the knot in the silk scarf. He visualized some unpleasant treatments, his imagination building on what had happened to him in the morning, and he prayed that he was in safe hands.

His captors didn’t say a word, and Théo’s touch over his shoulder felt colder. Rémi darted his eyes all around, moving his head as much as he could without attracting attention and rebukes; he took in the scenery, trying to find a plan to escape.

Théo kept his hold, pushing him forward; Rémi didn’t mind the sight Marc offered from behind; it was a treat looking at his cute legs and bottom moving under the tracksuit trousers, from which he pulled out a key. The brown-haired boy unlocked the cottage’s door.

The large room they entered seemed to cover the whole ground floor. It was divided in three by beams that had to be remnants of partition walls that had been torn down since. There was a fireplace on the right, with sofas and armchairs, a dining table in the middle and what looked like a rudimentary kitchen on the left.

The beams had found another use, one that Rémi was all too familiar with; yet, the first thing he thought about when he entered wasn’t whether he would end up trussed to the beams. The sight he caught first when he was pushed inside had him wonder ‘who the hell is this?’

A boy, or at least a boy’s bum faced Rémi. Between the dining section and the kitchen, there was a trussed up boy, folded in two, his wrists pulled and linked to a beam.

Rémi had seen Hervé bind Philippe and Grégory in such a drastic manner. With their noses touching their knees, their behinds were in the perfect position to receive a flogging. This new acquaintance had his round and perky bum set just for such a treatment.

Théo pushed Rémi towards the bound boy.

TBC

[Bondwriter]

Chapter 10 – Making Friends

“This is our friend Maximilian, Rémi. We call him Max. Say hi to Max’s bum and legs!”

Théo got Rémi to kneel.

“Give him a little peck with your gagged lips!”

Rémi obliged. The touch and even the smell were OK. Théo then pulled him back up to his feet; he looked closer at the other prisoner.

The bound boy wore some swimwear that encased his buttocks fully; they were a dark navy-blue, and the sheerness of the synthetic fabric provided interesting reflections. The thighs and calves displayed long muscles, and some flesh to knead. The boy was barefoot. He had black hair over his right big toe, which Rémi spotted as Théo got him to the side, almost touching the other captive.

“Look at the nice way Max is trussed up. All wrapped in ropes, and all the knots are on the other side of the beam, so Max won’t get out without someone’s intervention. He’s at our total mercy.”

To illustrate his point, Théo handed a few resounding spanks over the shiny butt, which were echoed by grunts that could only be this low and muffled because of some specific gagging attention. Marc tried his hand at it too, and there was more desperation in the now relentless pleas coming from the penitent.

They turned their attention back to their new guest. They tightened Rémi’s hobble and added a coil of rope around his ankles. They then undertook releasing the bent over boy. Rémi tried to imagine how long he’d been with Théo and Marc. Had Max been there for all this time, and even more, since he had no clue when they’d left him.

The two abductors carefully held Max and supported him while letting him unfold back to a normal standing position. He then stretched his bound arms, with his hands kept palm to palm and a short length of rope pulling his elbows together, though not to have them touch.

His face was red, but this wasn’t his usual carnation. His hair was black and his complexion was on the dark hue. He had big brown eyes, with long black eyelashes and thin black brows, which Rémi liked.

He’d have to wait to see his mouth, though he could guess from the outline under the shiny white tape sealing his lips that they were rather big and probably very red… The other boy was reciprocating the inquisitive looks, appearing genuinely surprised at meeting Rémi. Or was he just upset?

Rémi’s eyes went down; the boy wore some weird shorts: they were tight and hugging, with the waistband just a couple centimetres below his navel. The pouch in front made the wearer’s erection fully visible, by encasing the developing member in a sheer sheath.

“You like Max’s outfit? This is cute, isn’t it?”

Commenting on the black-haired boy’s stylish penile enhancement triggered Théo into prodding Rémi’s shorts.

“There’s someone else who’s wearing some sexy little shorts.”

Rubbing Rémi’s still wet glans between his thumb and index finger through the polyamide, the cute twink got him to moan and beg for more; the relatively modest wadding couldn’t fully disguise the meaning of the captive’s pleas. Théo stopped before the soiled shorts had to welcome another load of seminal fluid.

“But you’ve squirted enough juice like this. Now you’ve met Max, we might decide what we will do with the both of you…” Théo said, passing his ruby red tongue over his lips.

“And how long we keep you our pets. We should have our guests sitting first, Théo.”

“Of course! Where are my manners?” Théo said in a dramatic and rather campy way.

He kept on using the same kinds of mannerisms as they trussed their victims up to chairs they pulled from the dining table, facing each other. Rémi was first to go, Max sitting two metres in front facing him, and watching the rope rigging show. Théo said lots of little words like ‘then’, ‘now’, ‘let’s see’, punctuating his actions.

A few times, he stood in front of Rémi, one hand holding his opposite elbow, resting his chin on his other one, assessing the symmetry and making faces at Rémi, who just enjoyed the show while it remained pleasant.

His arms were bound to the chair legs, and his ankles bound together, with ropes around the three rungs that went behind his ankles, his lower calves and his upper calves.

They kept gear to truss Max up in a large cupboard. They made an efficient use of the amount of ropes they had: Rémi saw the piles from the corner of his eye: they could mummify him in ropes if they wanted. There was tape too, and they used it to glue Rémi’s hands to the legs of the chairs, keeping his fingers in a tight little bundle that was no use to fiddle around with knots.

Once he was tightly bound to his seat, it was Rémi’s turn to be the audience. Max was the target of the two riggers, who showed off a little. Rémi could better assess the way the boys worked; their moves were brisk but not brutal. They didn’t fear rebuking their charge if he showed any sign of resistance, yet Rémi didn’t feel contempt in their voice. Were they playing games like he did with Philippe and friends?

Max ended up bound much like Rémi, though they had spread his legs open and bound his legs to the chair’s, with ropes pressing his calves tight against the round wood.

Rémi got the interesting view of Théo standing to admire his handiwork on Max, turning his back on him. Théo’s eyes sure enticed Rémi, but the view from the back had its charm too.

Marc went to the kitchen area. There was a thumping sound, followed by the sound of roller bearings over the earth tiles covering the floor. Marc kicked alternately in two platforms a little over a metre wide; he manoeuvred the two devices mounted on four big wheels all the way to the captives, setting them on the side of each chair.

The captors picked Max and his seat up from the ground first, and Marc pushed the platform under the lifted chair. They put the chair down slowly, right in the centre. With a hand over Max’s shoulder, Théo demonstrated it worked.

Rémi was impressed by the display of strength. His new friends looked younger and more fragile than they actually were. Their control remained total when it came to getting his chair on the platform. Rémi didn’t move either, knowing it wasn’t the moment to force his abductors to drop him.

They then pushed them towards the fireplace, where the lounge part of the cottage lied. They were set on each side, and they were made to face each other again, though slightly slanted towards the room and the sofa where the lads would sit.

“All done taking care of you,” Théo stated, “Now we can make plans for the future.”

He lay back in the comfortable couch, where Marc joined him.

“There are a few for Max already. You’re with us until tomorrow evening, Max, aren’t you?”

The boy quietly nodded and softly grunted once.

“So it’s only fair you keep Max company until tomorrow evening, isn’t it, Rémi?”

Rémi didn’t know what to reply. He still felt a duty to inform his relatives – and not only his cousins – of his whereabouts. Yet, this current fellowship he was involved in had some appeal. His learned responses after days of training at the hands of lots of different boys leaned towards submission, though.

“Mmm.”

“Very good boy, this is all settled. Now, that’s a lot of time, and we’ve got lots of toys to play with.”

“Max and Rémi included,” Marc laughed.

“Yes, and our guest will require some attention. We know he ends up bound and gagged by his cousins, who leave him at the mercy of strangers in your grandfather’s barn. He’s proved obedient. How should we try him next?”

“He trespassed, this is for sure,” Marc added, “There’s no need to try him; there’s only one way to handle this sort of rule breaking…” He let his voice trail. Théo picked up on his best friend’s call and gave the response: “It’s a good flogging!”

“Mmmrhh? Mmmph… Rmmgrmmphrm…”

Rémi’s pleas were ignored by these boys as well. They laughed, growing rather excited with all their talk; they told of a few times when Max had been the recipient of their backside manual ministrations.

“Remember the time when he couldn’t sit down for three days?”

“That’s why we had to keep him bound suspended inside his closet!”

They told many anecdotes. They sounded like shared knowledge, and they didn’t bother giving much background; they were rather keen on telling the details of Max had to endure. Rémi understood from their tales that the three of them went to a school in a town nearby, but he didn’t get any location or school name. It sounded like it had been at least two, possibly three years since they’d first played tie-up games with Max. Apparently, this went very far.

The two comfortably set abductors boasted about their abduction planning skills: they’d pulled fast ones on their disciple, ambushing him on Friday evenings. Once they’d restrained him, they let him know his parents had gladly agreed the invitation Théo’s parents made that he’d stay over the weekend.

There was much talk about milking and bum stuffing, and the tales of the boys brought similar sights, sounds and smells that made Rémi’s memories. The conversation went on, entertaining Rémi to the highest point. Even the acrid taste of the foul socks didn’t curb his happiness.

The loud pounding on the front door startled the whole group, though two of them couldn’t jump as high as the rest. Loud calls followed the unexpected knocking.

“Open up! We need help, we’ve lost our cousin!”

“Please help us!”

These were the voices of Aurélien and Thomas, playing distress at their best.

“Darn,” Théo whispered, “Intruders.”

He jumped to his feet and pounced on Rémi. Marc joined him, scarves in hand. They added a thick over the mouth layer and then a thin silk over the nose one. This made breathing more difficult, and hence it muted the nasal sounds he could make. Marc added his hand to the four layers already insulating Rémi’s lower face, setting his glasses straight with the other.

“You boys behave,” Théo whispered, looking at his captives. Max nodded, but Rémi kept on grunting, though much less with his airways partially blocked by Marc’s handgag.

Théo went to the door; it opened towards the lounge, making the kitchen side visible from the threshold and leaving the captives out of sight of the callers. Théo kept it slightly ajar as he answered, with a foot blocking it in case the visitors would try to force their way in.

“Hi? What is it you want?”

“Have you seen our cousin? We played a game, and we can’t find him.”

“Your cousin? Was he the boy who was tied up in our barn?”

Rémi admired the cute tween’s gall; he could hear hesitation on his cousins’ part; they didn’t reply straight away. This wasn’t their usual attitude.

“MMMmmmmmmmm…” Marc’s fingers shut one of his nostrils off, but yet he couldn’t let his cousins get fooled by Théo.

“If he is, then I don’t know where he is.”

“mmmmmmmmmmm”

The faint noise didn’t seem to bear, and Rémi felt once more totally helpless, unable to warn his cousins of his presence when he was just behind the door!

“Did you… untie him?”

“Yes, this seemed a bit dangerous to tie up someone so tightly and leave him on his own, especially with the stuffing gag the people who’d tied him up had put on him.”

Rémi had thought about safety issues; if Théo had left Max for two or three hours in the stringent folded down position they’d found him in, he was quite an hypocrite.

“mmmmmmm” The faint droning sound didn’t trigger any reaction from the outside. Rémi could only be grateful Marc let him gulp a little air in now and then.

“Actually, our cousin asked for this. He’s the one who asked others to tie him up, and gag him, because he’s seen many films and series on TV when a character is abducted, and he says if you really want to kidnap someone, it has to be serious.”

It sounded more like Aurélien to Rémi; he heard the smile in Théo’s reply.

“This makes sense. I imagine you need to have a lair, a hideout where you know no one is ever going to come and rescue your target. Chaining him, or hogtying him is required so he can’t escape. And a silencing muzzle avoids any loud attempts to warn the outside world you’ve got them in your claws.”

This Théo was on a par with Hervé when it came to talking about tying other boys up. His style was more flourishing; he moved around all the time; of course, he stayed in the door’s opening for the time being; Rémi could only see his back, bum and legs, but they writhed and twisted all the time, the boy being quite lively.

Rémi did a few more tries at noise while the conversation went on. He was surprised Aurélien didn’t ask in.

Théo stepped out and closed the door. Mark let go of his nose.

TBC

[Bondwriter]

Chapter 11 – The Abduction Caper

“Poor little Rémi! Your cousins are just a couple metres away, and yet they’re completely unaware we’ve got you in our claws!”

Rémi struggled over his chair, getting the platform to jerk around. Max looked at him; he stood completely still. Rémi knew this obedience; only a boy who’d been the subject of his peers’ enslavement for a long time complied so fully. Like his friend Philippe.

“Now that Théo is away, I might tell you of the special things I would like to do to you, Rémi. There are games we enjoy playing, both he and I. But I’m more into enemas than he is. Have you already gotten an enema, Rémi?”

The young dominator interviewed his gagged guest in whispers, and he told them to nod or shake their head to answer quietly. He went on describing the things they had inserted in Max’s rectum, using the chance to get Rémi’s feelings on the various items and predicaments they allowed designing.

Marc no longer seemed bothered by Rémi’s ‘Mmmphs’; the door was thick but they still could hear voices outside. Was his abductor overly confident in the gag’s muffling quality?

Rémi sweated, and he felt the tape around his hands get slippery. Maybe he’d get a chance to escape eventually. He’d thought of rocking and falling backward to make some noise. His elevated position and his exposed head and neck convinced him against this ploy. Rémi had no intention to spend time at the hospital.

Yet, he could make noise, and he went on trying to warn his relatives. He almost forgot the added saliva that made the sock gag an enduring torment.

“Yes, Rémi,” Marc said, his hushed tone becoming more and more dramatic, “We’re going to pull this one flawlessly. Your cousins will leave and we’ll keep you, and much longer than Max. You see the big wardrobe over there? Once trussed up like a turkey and hung in it, we may welcome visitors and they’ll be none the wiser about our prisoner.”

“MmmmmmphrmMmphmmgrmmmMMMMphMMm!”

Marc put his hand in front of his own mouth, refraining from bursting into laughter.

Eventually, the voices from outside sounded like they were parting, and there were greetings, the voices of his cousins seeming more remote. After a handful of seconds, Théo got back inside.

“I was just explaining Rémi that he was a godsend. Are you up to a challenge, Théo? What about keeping Rémi with us the whole week, totally incommunicado. I’m sure that if we take the good pics of the various things I have in mind for him, he won’t go and complain about any kidnapping!”

“I fooled his cousins easily; they didn’t hear a thing! We made it, Marc!”

The boys congratulated each other and approached their captives to check their bonds.

“His hands are all sweaty, he’ll manage to slip his fingers out of the tape in no time now.”

“We’ll have to find another way.”

“Max hasn’t moved a millimetre. We’re getting somewhere with him, aren’t we?”

There was more banter, bragging and new ideas on how to best entertain their two guests. Rémi felt ill at ease; there would be a search for him, and there would be tons of trouble afterwards. The little hobby that had kept him and his friends busy for a few weekends would be over.

He mulled over these sombre thoughts; the boys’ idle and happy talk contrasted with the older teen’s mood; it all came to a sudden halt when the door slammed open, with the shrieks of Aurélien and Thomas that suddenly filled the room.

“Get away from him!”

“You bastards! You’ve kidnapped our cousin!”

Théo and Marc turned around and froze. The rescue team was at Rémi’s sides before they could even react.

“You’ve trussed him up to a chair, poor thing,” Thomas said, leaning into Rémi to have a look at the rope work. He pinched his nose. “This is disgusting! What king of barbarians are you? Gagging him with stinky socks!”

“Uh, he wouldn’t stop complaining,” Marc mumbled, “We needed something to gag him fast.”

The younger boys’ dialogues got the words pot and kettle to Rémi’s mind once again.

“Mmmrhmm! Rmmmphtmmm!”

His requests to be untied left Thomas cold; his cousin seemed to have payback on his mind. Releasing his kidnapped relative was apparently low priority.

“We’ve caught you red-handed! We need some retribution!”

Théo and Marc stood, stunned, babbling vague words.

“We’ll tie you up,” Aurélien offered vigorously, “And you’ll remain our prisoners. What do you think, Rémi, should we have them as guests?”

“Mmm.” Rémi nodded, smiling behind the gag. At last, there was some interest in him. The grin his cousin bore after hearing the reply was enough for the prisoner to understand he’d just been tricked.

“Sorry, cousin, but this is the wrong answer. Théo and Marc are good friends of ours, and we’ve given them a hand with Max a couple times. They’ve agreed to return the favour. I’m sure you like making new friends…”

“MMMmmph! GRRMMrrmmlllmp!”

“Glad to know you would have no qualm tying us up,” Théo smirked.

“Yes, we’ll have no problem trying out difficult stuff with someone who’s willing to turn the tables on us,” Marc added, looking at the bundled teen over his chair with a predatory look. He turned to Maximilien. “You’ve remained much quieter than Rémi, but we surprised you as well, didn’t we? What with Aurélien and Thomas rescuing you from the wilderness, releasing you from your tree, only to bring you here and get you in a strict strappado?”

The four accomplices got a nice laugh. The telling of how their prank had gone was done in a cheerful mood. Théo had proved his worth as a taunt; he was also very good at story-telling. From his throne, Rémi got ‘entertained’ with the tale of his capture, his wanking and his release, and of course he blushed behind his gag when Théo told at length of the cock sucking.

“He got on his knees straight away, and he pulled my pants down without pulling my hair! With his teeth. He’s been well taught.”

“Yes, there’s been some training. We’ve kept him on his toes these last few weeks. But I can see that you did him in Théo,” Aurélien said, stepping on the platform where Rémi sat, having a closer look at his crotch and the unmistakable tell-tale stains.”

“Nice touch with the wank, Théo. Rémi should have known better. How long did it take him to let the juice out?”

“One minute and twenty-two seconds,” Marc replied.

“This doesn’t show much stamina. I’m afraid it’s another four thousand penalty points, Rémi,” Aurélien said in a mock concerned tone, “Rejoice, though. We have plans to get your count down. Max’s tally should diminish too, if you two lads can follow simple guidelines. You’re going to be models for some cool stuff we’ve gotten for you. Max will give a butler demonstration later on. We won’t take the risk with you this weekend, Rémi, but by undergoing some ordeals you will get your number of penalty points down anyway.”

“But first of all, let’s eat, I’m hungry,” Thomas demanded.

This seemed a good idea to all four of the unfettered boys; Théo and Marc went to get bread, cheese, and everything they needed to make tasty sandwiches. Gathered around the dining table, the four youthful abductors savoured the food, while keeping an eye on their captives.

“We told you a lot about Hervé, didn’t we, Rémi? Well, it turns out there’s more. Hervé may get some very special items that are quite useful to play his games,” Aurélien said in a low voice.

“Yes,” his brother added in a whisper, “He gets clothing for Philippe from pervy old men?”

“That’s not like this, Tom! There are people who donate clothing to him.”

“In exchange for pictures.”

Rémi craned his neck to look as straight into Aurélien’s eyes as possible. Did he shoot videos that were shared with other people? Was he used as eye-candy for old lecherous men?

“You shouldn’t be ashamed, Rémi. We’re actually quite proud that you get so much success from Hervé’s wealthy backers. They even have gifts for the both of you.”

The conversation drifted back to more ordinary matters, such as how to get the best feet smells in sneakers. Rémi found out his abductors’ secret: keeping them on during the night. They let him know they’d also both run quite a bit for the four days they’d worn their ankle socks.

His disgust had passed some time ago, but having the four pretty boys laugh at them, with now a companion in infortune… He lowered his eyes, blushing.

The meal lasted a bit longer; it was then quickly cleared off. The gang of kidnappers got back to the next section, to join their prisoners for an early afternoon workshop.

“Now my sweet little ones,” Théo announced, “We want to keep you healthy. You’re going to skip a meal, so you keep lean, and we don’t have to bother with removing your gags…”

“But we’ll take you to the bathroom,” Marc finished the sentence, in tune with his friend. “We like it when our boy dolls are clean everywhere!”

His grin got Rémi to remember the boy’s words when he’d been on his own with him. If he joined forces with Thomas, this could be memorable.

Rémi had made the proper prediction as to who would handle their ‘cleaning’; Marc and Thomas took their prisoner to the bathroom. It was a small space behind the kitchen, with a sink, a shower and a toilet. Rémi was the first to get the honour of relieving himself.

They untied him, cuffing his hands behind in the process, and they marched him to the small room. He spotted the red rubber enema gear hanging to the wall as he first stepped inside, pushed by Marc.

Marc told of times when the boys had had similar fun, with Max as the object of their care. They put on surgical gloves to handle the possibly messy task. They spoke like old pros, and they led Rémi through the steps effectively and efficiently. He remained cuffed the whole time. They sat him on the toilet, goaded him into letting loose. Once they’d summarily wiped his butt, they slid a greased nozzle up his bum and squeezed in a litre of lukewarm salty water.

Rémi took it stoically; despite all his submissiveness, he still felt some pride in not breaking down in front of younger boys. The experience he’d gotten from Hervé and his friends had prepared him properly.

The final activities in the process delivered a clean and relieved Rémi. Notably, Marc pointed out the slight hair growth that the chastity device had kept Rémi from shaving. The closets offered all sorts of products, including the hair removal cream they needed. Marc took ten or fifteen minutes to smear Rémi’s pubis with it; during the little wait time, Marc played with the captive’s penis.

“I’ll touch your willy if it makes you happy, but don’t let your little snake spit.”

The silly, childish talk concealed a real threat to act upon non-compliance. Rémi kept still; Marc held on to his turgid junk while he wiped the hair away; this left Rémi’s crotch’s skin smooth and clean.

His captors deemed him fully ready for; Rémi didn’t feel the same sense of completion about his outfit. He was naked from the waist down, and it seemed he would be taken out the bathroom in this state of undress. Thomas had put his soiled shorts away right at the beginning, and no garment was in sight. His bondage was minimal but still inescapable; Rémi had to comply.

His handlers pushed him outside the bathroom, leading him to the other side of the room – and of the cottage. They entrusted him with Théo and Aurélien, who handed out Max in exchange, since they’d released the lanky teen from the chair and cuffed his hands behind his back and were apparently having their fun playing with the big boner tenting his shorts. The sight of the naked captive attracted their attention right away.

“So, cousin, you seem to enjoy yourself in the company of your new friends,” the blond cherub smiled, flicking the bobbling, semi-erect dick with his index finger, which got a grunt from his relative. And a full boner.

“He gets harder when you snap his dick,” Théo exclaimed, marvelling at the wonders of nature.

“We got him to cum like a fountain just by pinching pegs on his cock and balls!”

No intimate act would be kept private with this bunch. Moreover, it would be told with exaggerations.

“We shouldn’t let him wander around naked in Marc’s house! Don’t you have a way to make him a bit more decent, Aurel? They seemed to have kept his shorts and I don’t feel like walking all the way there…”

Aurélien didn’t need to be told twice.

“Oh, you mean, the specialty item from Brightwell & Comfort?”

“Just this,” Théo beamed.

Aurélien went to a large chest; he lifted the lid and picked a large piece of supple and pliable rubber; or so it seemed from five metres away. He came back to his friends, his hands inside the garment, giving it its form. Rubber shorts.

Aurélien pulled them open to show Rémi the addendum that made it a specialty item: it featured a plug that seemed moulded along with the shorts; it jutted out from the seat, so it would slide up his rectum.

Théo put rubber gloves on. He caught a jar of grease, which he basted over the naked teen’s genitals first, soon turning to his butt crack.

“Let me get it in,” he whispered at Rémi’s ear who felt his middle finger slide inside him effortlessly. Théo was thorough and didn’t stop before being certain his charge was totally prepared for sliding the shorts on. “Look how hard he gets as I caress his innards,” Théo shouted, calling attention to Rémi’s manhood again.

Aurélien had to act to preserve Rémi’s decency.

TBC

[blackbound]

That was a very unexpected and hot twist!

[Bondwriter]

Thanks a ton, Blackbound. Glad to see that the plot intrigues. More happens to Rémi, of course, and his new friend in the next chapter...

Chapter 12 – Fashion Victims

“Let’s get you in your shorts, Rémi. I don’t want you to accuse us of having you behave obscenely.”

The hard prick got another finger flick. Théo made space for his friend, who kneeled at Rémi’s feet. He had him lift his feet in turn, sliding them in the short’s legs on their way down. Aurélien picked up the waistband and pulled them up.

Rémi could feel the protuberance brushing up his legs; more so when it slid up his thighs, where it rubbed and stuck a bit. Théo gave a hand tugging the shorts up; once they reached the lubricated area, they fell into place perfectly. The waistband slid up, engulfing the genitals that Théo pushed inside.

The probe slipped right up Rémi’s butt hole, rubbing him the right way. His genitals experienced the large space of the intended bulge in front of the shorts. It compressed his three-suit piece, while letting it grow and harden. They also swam in the soft and slippery grease. Twitching his buttocks caused great emotions to the bound teenager.

Théo had a way to test how the wearer liked the outfit: he felt the bulge through the latex. This was conclusive.

“Your cousin is a porn star, Aurel, he’s always hard and ready!”

Satisfied with the try-out, Aurélien made sure it fit, feeling his cousin’s buttocks to make sure the plug had found its destination.

Rémi was saved from more taunts and jokes on his weird erotic life by Max’s comeback. He could see the impressive member of the black-haired boy for the first time, for he’d also been left bare under the waist.

Marc was ecstatic when he saw Rémi.

“And wait,” Aurélien explained, “It’ll look even better once we’ve polished it.”

“Let’s get Max dressed up too,” Théo offered; he smeared another handful of grease over Max’s lower section, getting his boner to throb and twitch. Rémi stood not a metre in front of Max, and Théo got his way. This time, he brought his charge to orgasm, mainly to have his slave squirt his cream over Rémi.

The lukewarm stream landed on his chin, followed by a few gushes that reached the front of his jersey. Much mirth came along with this display of enthusiasm.

“A little token of Max’s appreciation, Rémi. Let’s get his backside greased up and get him covered too.”

The three boys helped; the final adjustment required a good eye to pull them perfectly in place, encasing Max’s round and muscular buttocks in a rubber sheath.

Then came the polishing; they started by binding the standing captives’ ankles: Aurélien pointed out they’d foregone the necessary precaution. The two fetish-wearing models had an actual court of four princes at their knees –and on theirs. This was a group activity that got the quartet in a good mood. They started with cotton, soap and water to remove the grease at first. This took a while, and there were many games to play by rubbing over the shorts, especially over this pouch in front, and along the crack to get the anal intruder to wiggle around a bit.

With the shorts free of any semen, grease or dirt and dry, the real fun could begin. They rubbed the shiny material with soft woollen cloth and some lotion next.

“This isn’t actually rubber, but silicone,” Aurélien announced proudly, “It’s more resistant, and it shines even more, and this product is pure magic!”

The carers took precautions when it came to the final treatment; they challenged each other not to let their pupils cum, so their touch was light. They used a clean and dry piece of wool and got the shorts to glisten and show off the round curves the two pairs of buttocks they contained.

Aurélien removed the ankles’ bond.

“Take a few steps and model our gift for us. No funny stuff, of course.”

The four captors sat in the sofa and had the two boys parade. The models took three steps, spun on their heel and went back before they started over. They had to turn presenting their backside to the audience, of course, which Rémi missed the first time.

“You’re supposed to know your right from your left, Rémi. We told you to turn right so we would see your bum. I’ll tell you, it’s quite a sight. It’s impressive how it looks, like the reflection around your buttocks when you spin.”

Thomas had gotten his camera out, and recorded the show for posterity.

The novelty and the impressive look of the fetish wear took a while to wear off. This turned in an impromptu deportment lesson; the audience called the shots and had their models show off their assets. They had them spin the other way so they could enjoy seeing the shorts from both the back and the front.

“It’s impressive how much the shorts enhance their figures.”

“Yeah, it sure shows their hard-ons,” Thomas praised, his video camera at hand so he could immortalize the try-out.

At last, Théo stood; he signalled to the others it was time. Aurélien joined him as he pounced on Rémi; Max stood, waiting, but soon Marc and Thomas had him in their hold.

“The challenge, lads,” Théo announced, “You’ve got to resist us for two minutes.”

With four hands taking them from all sides, wearing woollen gloves that glided smoothly over the slick material, the poor pupils didn’t have a chance. They wailed through their gags, and after pulling his shorts’ waistband, Théo confirmed Rémi had added to the liquid in the pouch.

“Yup, he discharged his load big time.”

“Max, didn’t do better,” Tomas said, letting the waistband smack back over Max’s belly after his inspection.

Aurélien called for the next steps.

“It seems they’re awfully loud,” he said, making eye contact with each of his three acolytes, “We’re in luck, for I happen to have the muzzles that match these spiffy shorts!”

The gleaming material he pulled from the chest got the boys to shudder. There was an inflatable bulb. Straps. Buckles. The two masochists yearned for the item, while dreading how their captors would use them .

Thomas got the tripod out. This was something he had to record.

“Get back over your chairs, we need you sitting to be at the right height,” Théo ordered. The two captives steeped over the platforms and sat on their chair, lifting their arms to get them over the back, and lowering themselves slowly, as if afraid it would push the plugs deeper in.

“Turn them towards me, Marc,” Thomas asked his helpful friend, “I’d better film them from the front.”

They fine-tuned the position while Aurélien handed his friend the accessory that would be the object of interest for Thomas’ work of art.

“I’ll let you go first, Théo; there’s one for Max, and you’re the one who should put it on.”

“Keep by my side just in case.”

The two boys stepped behind Max on the small platform. They started by removing the layers silencing him, which weren’t many though sufficient to deny him speech. Théo gave another stern warning about being a good boy before pulling out the wadding. Rémi turned to the side to watch the show; he could only admire how compliant Max acted.

Underwear came out of his mouth was. Théo held it with the tips of his fingers, and let it unfold so the audience could see the textile Max had chewed on for some time; there were stains, though Rémi couldn’t tell what of. Max had nice, thick red lips; Aurélien brought a bottle to his lips, and he peacefully gulped down the whole litre.

He spotted Théo, and he opened wide when he was done drinking. His young master held the lower face mask, as it’s what it turned out to be once unfolded and laid out over Max’s skin. He inserted the small inflatable bulb inside his willing pupil’s gob, and he started by fastening the buckle at the nape of Max’s neck.

He didn’t tighten it all the way; he stepped in front, bent down on his knees to be at a proper height to fiddle with the muzzle. Thomas did a few close-ups of Théo’s bum, which his gleaming tracksuit trousers made interesting; it didn’t match the appeal of their prisoners’ shorts, but this was still a most pleasant display.

There were just two straps; the second buckled at the back of his head, just below its crown.

“Isn’t there a strap coming on each side of the nose? I’ve seen some in magazines,” Marc wondered aloud.

“This is high quality, Marc, wait and see.”

Once it was laid out properly over Max’s lower face, it really engulfed it from just above his Adam’s apple to right under his nose.

“The detail that will make the difference,” Aurélien said, handing Théo a small piece of plastic. The boy didn’t need explanation. The thick transparent piece was few centimetres long, curved, with grooves at each end. He laid it over the back of Max’s head. It fitted the outline of his skull, and joined both buckles, preventing them from sliding and solidarizing the whole set-up .

It blended in perfectly.

“The finishing touch,” Théo declared, with all the cloth needed and the vial of polish. He stepped aside, clearing the way for Thomas’ camera so Maximilien would be the focus of the scene.

He pretended he was a barber lathering soap before shaving his customer, which got great laughs from the audience. Théo liked the attention from his fellow-gang members.

“Now, Sir, it’s important to prepare your skin very well, so it goes all smoothly. You wouldn’t want the razor to slip and damage your pretty face!”

Théo remained focused on his task, while acting out for his friends. Soon Max’s lower face was covered by a shiny envelope espousing his features to the perfection. They could be guessed from the glimmers of the material, notably his lips’ outline.

“The real finishing touch,” Théo laughed, brandishing the rubber bulb that promised to make the device more interesting. Max shook his head; he reacted rather strongly, considering how docile he had been so far.

“Come on, Max, this might bring back some bad memories, but you aren’t going to misbehave in front of our guests?”

This calmed Max down a bit. Théo turned to his guests, Rémi included.

“Excuse him, but we had some little mishap last summer.”

“Max will remember our little experiment for a long time,” Marc sighed.

“Sometimes everything doesn’t fall in place as planned. Last year, we were at my grandparents’, who’ve always welcome my cousins or me to come over spend some time with friends. They live in what used to be a farm, so there’s plenty of space and rooms for everyone. Max was with us, which means I didn’t see my grandparents much. So I’d done an experiment in biology class with yeast and flour, and then I had also helped my mom with baking, and I wondered how much pressure a ball of dough in a warm mouth would cause.”

“This was of course a mission for our favourite guinea-pig, Maximilien!”

“This seemed obvious that Max’s mouth being ours to control, he wouldn’t mind helping us out with my scientific idea. We went in the attic. Well, Marc and I, Max was there already. We had left him tied up while we had breakfast, so he was still strapped over his cot as usual when he spends the night with us.”

Max now stood still; the feat Théo was talking about had been quite an ordeal, and he wouldn’t antagonize him with dissent.

“I’d discussed the idea with Marc over breakfast, and we decided to try out right away. I had balloons, a turkey baster full of liquid dough with triple dose of baker’s yeast, and Marc had the rest.”

“Tape and a swim cap,” the sidekick added modestly.

“It went fine, and Max was a good sport; he took the balloons in, I pumped his mouth full of this mix of yeast, flour and water, we had no issue knotting the balloon…” He turned to Marc.

“And the swim cap and the six turns of tape I wrapped around his head made sure the subject couldn’t expel the experiment sample,” Marc concluded expertly.

“So far, so good, but soon my grandma called for help. I heard her steps at the bottom of the staircase. She really needed us, but I was fast enough that I was out before she had climbed more than three or four steps. I ran downstairs. She needed help to bring him some wood in the shed. She said I should call my friends to help. I said Max had gone running and he wouldn’t be coming back before an hour or so. She believed. I called Marc and we helped her out for two hours.”

“We didn’t know how to take a break without her having doubts.”

“Eventually, we could rush back upstairs, with my grandmother still out. Max was about to release himself. He’d squirmed and he really whined when we found him.”

“What a wuss,” Marc laughed.

“The experiment was conclusive: it was difficult pulling the balloons out; we had to undo the knot and let the dough seep out first.”

“Max had his jaws all cramped up!”

TBC

[blackbound]

The weekend is the best part of the week because I can always count on additional chapters from not one, not two, but THREE fantastic stories of yours.

[The slave]

I'm really too impatient to read more I really love this story too much

[Bondwriter]

You make me blush, Blackbound! Knowing the stories bring some joy brings great pride in return. And thanks for the token of appreciation, the Slave. It is very much appreciated. More of Rémi's discoveries and adventures, then...

Sweaty Tie-Up: Naughty Siblings

Chapter 13 – Try-Outs

The story’s happy ending got everyone to have a good laugh – everyone who could, of course.

“Do not fear, Little Max, you know we never cause you too much pain… or not on purpose. I’ll go easy on you so you may enjoy the design of your muzzle. It’ll be time soon enough to really have fun testing maximal inflation.”

Théo pushed the end of the nozzle where the wearer’s lips were; he turned it, screwing it in place.

“This is high-end stuff, Théo; it won’t deflate easily, and you’ll see how well the pump works.”

Théo couldn’t wait. Thomas got the tripod nearer to get a closer shot of Max’s ordeal. Théo looked at the lens before he slowly pumped once; this pushed the latex-like bladder’s walls out a bit, but the second, slow and ostentatious pressing Théo added made it impossible to ignore his mouth was filling up.

Théo pumped three times in a row at a fast pace, causing a surprised gasp from Max. This had gone from unpleasant but bearable to punishing in five seconds.

“Oh, not happy, Max?”

To the captive’s even bigger surprise, Théo fiddled with a knob at the base; he pressed the pump, which made it deflate. He pressed once again, getting the pressure at a tolerable level before he unscrewed the nozzle .

“One down, one to go,” he said, turning to Rémi. He left Max experience the tight, unrelenting embrace of the mask, with the filling bladder pressing the tongue to the bottom of his mouth.

Marc was kind enough to turn Max’s chair to the side so he could also benefit from the show. They repeated their actions. The removal of the socks got lots of talk going, with Marc pinching his nose. Rémi though it no longer was as horrid, but the gang holding him couldn’t let go of the socks legend; Marc and Théo explained they’d actually done it all for Rémi, so their first encounter would be memorable.”

“This is important to have your slave know your smell,” Marc commented seriously, “We quiz Max on this often.”

“He hasn’t made a mistake in three months, even when we tried to fool him with other boys’ underwear or socks.”

Thomas had some mouthwash, and had Rémi take a good dose in his mouth.

“You worry about our feet bacteria giving him diarrhoea?”

“With the shorts he’s got on,” Théo added to his sidekick’s taunt, “and well plugged like he is, we’re pretty safe.”

Rémi’s mind wandered into a dangerous direction, trying to imagine what would happen if he had a case of the runs right now. He soon gave up, hoping for the best, distracted by Thomas offering him a pail to spit in.

He breathed in with his mouth, which felt very strange; it didn’t last. Aurélien had the bottle and screwed it to his lips. The tens of seconds it took to gulp down the content were a moment of exquisite relief for Rémi, who felt revived by the water.

“We’d know how to handle him if he were sick; this has happened to Max too.”

The tales of disease didn’t appeal too much to Aurélien, who was eager to try the new toy. He made a show for his brother’s camera, taking his time and describing every step he took. He first set the muzzle on; he used the nifty little trick that gave it its shape and strength. He did the polishing very calmly, and he had others come up and give him a hand rubbing Rémi’s face. They used small pieces of black electric tape to fix the glasses’ arms to the muzzle strap. It blended in perfectly.

“You’re the prettiest, Rémi!” Aurélien complimented him.

They then experimented with the inflatable bulb, requiring feedback from Rémi on the effects the pumping in and out caused to the wearer. Thomas joined them, leaving the camera on the tripod, so there were four boys framing the muzzled boy.

This was devilish, Rémi thought. His jaws were welded together, his mouth stretched and the thein, stretched gummy material clung to his skin, reminding him of the grip of the most ruthless handgags he’d been given.

The bladder inside was yet another thing. Thomas got it pumped to the max, stretching his mouth and the muzzle at the same time. However big he opened his mouth, the material still brushed right under his nose, as the outside layer clung tightly to his skin, as if part of it.

He was the life of the party. Mark went to handle the camera for more shots of them having Rémi repeat their words, and trying to feel what difference the variations in pressure caused.

Aurélien offered to try out the final accessory that came in the kit; he fetched the arm-binders. These were kid leather sheaths that would wrap the forearms of those restrained in them.

Rémi and Max were made to stand, turn around, and straddle the chair so they would rest their chests over the back.

“This makes for a fine angle, and a great view of the shorts,” Thomas said, his eye on the viewfinder.

“And they’re in the perfect position to have these put on them easily,” Aurélien added. He held the first piece of leatherwear, which he meant for Rémi.

Théo and Marc held his arms while the cuffs were removed, and didn’t let go until each of their hands was cupped around the opposite elbow, with their forearms as one. The rectangle was wrapped around them; it fastened and straps went through buckles. There were flaps dangling at each end. Aurélien pulled them up; he used thinner straps to link them to the rest of the design. They wrapped his hands, trapping his fingers against his arms.

“Just hold on for a moment, Rémi,” Théo chirped, “Max has been looking at you with envy. Let’s give him his present.”

Théo and Aurélien repeated their little routine; they were swift and this time, Théo handled the hands wrapping while Aurélien did the forearms.

Marc had the platforms turn so the camera could record the looks in full gear, sitting in reverse on chairs, with their behinds enhanced by the black and shiny fetish shorts.

“I’ll say, let’s take them for a walk. Just hobbles at the knees, and we may even have them race!”

“Brilliant idea,” Thomas approved, “And the loser gets a wager!”

The idea of some outside fun appealed to everyone. The participants in the prospective race had to stand up from the chair and down from the platforms. They made a quick stop to get hobbled; their minders used cuffs made of the same material as the shorts that they wrapped above their knees. Théo padlocked the ends of a 15-centimetre long chain to D-rings on the cuffs.

“Rémi’s ready. Now, I’ll get the switches…”

He came back with thin long stick. He kept the lot in his left hand; he picked one and made swishing sounds through the air with it.

“We need to have some incentives!”

He handed the three other little masters the tools to that would spur their mounts going .

“A few whacks get Max to hurry when he doesn’t do his chores fast enough,” Marc remembered.

“I’m sure Rémi will like some support and some extra motivation,” Aurélien replied. “Are we set to go?”

“Almost,” Théo answered, “Let’s get them on a leash for caution and safety, then we’re off.”

The two brothers handled Max, and Rémi had the wide rubber band set around his neck by the ‘friends’ he’d just made. The D-ring in front hosted the end of a dog leash.

The group could move outside; Marc and Thomas each held a leash; they followed Théo and Aurélien who discussed the trial they would submit their charges to.

“Let’s have them do three laps around the clearing,” Théo suggested, “We’ll post at each corner to make sure they don’t cheat.”

The four captors agreed; each of them headed to one of the four set points. Marc volunteered to be the starting line and dragged the two hostages behind him. The four boys were fifteen to twenty metres away from each other. Marc turned to his friends, who gestured everything was fine. He could launch the race.

“Ready? Steady? Go!”

The racers’ hobble linking their thighs prevented actual running. Max took five steps, grunting. He was taller than Rémi, and he had longer legs. The blond bespectacled captive thought hard. He joined his ankles; he leaped forward, and this paid, since he passed Max. Rémi was all about winning, and he didn’t waste time ogling his appetizing competitor.

There was of course the peculiar feelings that the plug caused, and his turgid boner sliding in the wet ad greasy confines of the front pouch. At least he wore something; doing such exercise naked would have meant he’d be waving his penis around.

Rémi reached Théo, who was the first post. The cute lad hit his bottom, but with Max coming right behind, Rémi was saved from a violent cut. He felt a slight smack crashing over his right buttock.

Aurélien and Thomas aimed better, and passing the second and third posts got resounding cracking sounds. Max was just behind, and Rémi could hear the switches making contact with his latex-clad bum seconds after he passed them.

Rémi managed to keep his lead until he got close to the finish line. He’d dodged Thomas’s whipping so he almost didn’t feel the blow; Marc was five metres from him when the leaping Max came in his vision field.

There was contact over their next bound; it felt like a voluntary move from the boy, who swung his hips and got Rémi to lose his balance. He managed not to fall after this unfair move, but Max crossed the line first anyway.

The three ‘posts’ joined the rest of the group. Marc praised Max’s performance.

“Our Max has run a smart race,” he said, patting the dark-haired boy’s wavy hair. “But it wasn’t very nice to push Rémi, was it?”

“I’d say it was cheating,” Théo said.

“This means there’s no winner, but two losers,” Thomas ruled.

This outcome seemed perfectly fair to the quartet. This caused a few questioning and concerned grunts from the competitors; the muffling and muting the latex muzzles provided allowed the captors to misinterpret wildly.

“They approve, so everybody agrees,” Marc commented. “Let’s have them exercise a bit more before we punish them.”

“We’ll take care of this later indeed,” Aurélien offered, “For now, let’s enjoy the outdoors and have our two pupils work out a bit. This is an occasion they can’t miss.”

The four captors sat in the grass, with the two boys standing in front. They first had them flex their knees and lower themselves; after five minutes, Théo went to remove their hobbles, so they could spread their legs and do half-jumping jacks.

He had them pause; he used this moment to check their erectile state.

“They’re still hard, lads.”

“Lots of exercise should help them get less horny,” Aurélien said.

They then had the boys jump, alternatively opening and closing their legs. After a while, beads over their foreheads turned into rivulets of sweat.

“This should tone their thighs,” Aurélien said.

“And their bums,” Théo added, “But what about their arms and chest?”

“They need to do sit-ups,” the blond personal trainer replied.

This made for another ten minutes, with Théo and Aurélien handling Max and Marc and Thomas taking care of Rémi. They kneeled at the boys’ feet, holding them, and they cheered them up to complete fifty sit-ups.

Rémi’s abs were sore and he thought he’d never manage to reach the set number. The watch and the comments of the boys holding his leg motivated him.

“Time for push-ups,” Aurélien announced when both pupils had completed the drill.

The four tormentors were quick-minded; they worked out a way to do so. Ropes came out of Marc’s bag; the boys had to lie face down in the grass. Marc and Thomas handled the legs’ binding, at ankles and knees.

The two pairs of minders then removed the arm-binders.

“We’ll release your arms, but it’s only so you can exercise, don’t you give us any grief!”

“Rémi sweats a lot,” Marc commented, “What about Max?” he asked Théo.

“He’s quite soaked,” his accomplice said, feeling and touching the lying body.

“This means it’s a good work-out,” Aurélien explained.

Hey then had their trainees perform series of ten push-ups.

“Keep straight, Max, don’t let your butt stick out,” Théo scolded, giving a slap over the latex-clad buttocks to illustrate his point.

TBC

[Bondwriter]

Sweaty Tie-Up: Naughty Siblings

Chapter 14 – Domestic Discipline

Rémi hoped there would be another competition. He felt he was doing his push-ups faster than Max and wouldn’t have minded another challenge, if only it could save him from further punishing ordeals.

Sadly for the bespectacled captive, this wasn’t meant to happen; their handlers had another idea for assessing the prisoners’ self-control, though. After six series of push-ups, the exercise enthusiasts were required to get their hands behind their backs; the arm-binders encased their forearms and trapped their fingers in no time. The helpers got the boys up on their feet. Their behinds had been a focus for attention, but with the front of their shorts visible again, the hard boners tenting the rubber inspired their keepers.

“Should we test their horniness?” Thomas asked, feeling for the length of Rémi’s hard-on.

“Brilliant!” Théo replied, kneading Max’s front pouch.

The teams got ready, framing their toy to be in the best position to administer their masturbatory caresses.

Théo gave the start; four hands attacked the gleaming shorts, fondling the wearers’ front and back, getting the plug to twitch and pumping the young erect members in their slippery pouch. Max wailed first, though Rémi wasn’t far behind. Without any visual control of the squirting, it was difficult to name winners.

“It’s been close,” Aurélien observed. “Let’s call it a tie.”

The pun got sniggers from the audience.

“Our young ones have exercised enough. Let’s get back inside, I’m starting to be hungry,” Marc proposed. The idea was welcome. They leashed their charges and headed back to the cottage.

“You’ve shown your new friend how obedient you could be Max, keeping still and making no fuss,” Théo said, removing Max’s leash, “Now is your chance to show him how useful you are around the house.”

Marc and Thomas had Rémi sit on his chair; they got busy roping him to it, exchanging tips and suggestions. The two other boys took Max to the bathroom for a change.

They came back a little while later, with Max opening the way. He was shirtless, and he no longer had the rubber shorts on. He wore dark satiny ones. His hands were cuffed behind his back, but it was the extent of his restraints.

He still had the rubber muzzle on. Marc and Thomas were playing with Rémi’s, inflating and deflating it, and having the trussed up boy try making noise.

“Look, he looks just like a chipmunk if we inflate it the right way!”

“Mmmmmmmrmmm..”

“You did a good job,” Aurélien praised his friends, “Rémi is going to be a prince, sitting on his throne like this.”

“He’ll be able to look at the staff working. Let me get the chains…”

Théo went to the chest from which he picked up a load of stuff, the rattling sound accompanying it confirming there was metal. Marc joined him; the two friends wanted to make the demonstration together; Aurélien and Thomas both stayed on the platform, on each side of Rémi.

The audience was treated with a display of skill built upon habit. The little hands flew around Max’s body. They wrapped a large brown leather belt around his arms. It closed in the back, and they turned Max around to show they padlocked the buckle behind. There were D-rings sewn in four places, two in front and back and two left and right.

Marc removed the handcuffs, holding to Max’s arms, out of habit more than necessity. They brought them forward, and wrapped wide leather cuffs around his wrists. Then came the chains, linking all this leather ware. Max had his hands restrained in front of him with thirty centimetres of slack from the D-ring under his belly button. Another one, just a little shorter, linked his wrists.

They had Max turn around to show his round buttocks brimming under the shorts when they also wrapped leather cuffs above his knees and hobbled him.

“All set! Now, Max, you’re going to cook us pasta.”

The captive looked at his gaolers, waiting for an order or an explanation. He just got a smack over his derriere, which got him to grunt in his well inflated gag. He turned around and headed to the kitchen with Marc and Théo in his steps; Aurélien and Thomas pushed Rémi’s platform across the large room .

“Let’s go see what Max is capable of, Rémi. You won’t be tested today, but we’ve seen you act as a waiter before. Don’t be jealous and enjoy the show.”

“Don’t worry,” Thomas whispered in his ear , “You’ll get to show us your own talent soon enough. Not that we doubt it, we’ve seen enough examples of you behaving when helping out.”

“This is just not the time, Rémi. Who knows,” Aurélien wondered aloud, “if you’re not some Hervé mole and that if we leave you the least chance, you’re not going to have us lose our wager?”

Rémi rolled his eyes at his cousin’s paranoia. There was no way Hervé would have such a plan; he loved Rémi bound and gagged too much.

They stopped at the threshold, giving the sitting captive a perfect view over the kitchen.

“I’ll get you an apron so you don’t dirty your spiffy new clothes,” Théo said, picking a white piece of clothing. It was white satiny nylon, with a very fine lace trim at the edge. He used the three sets of laces to pin it tightly to Max’s front. The silky material clung to his body, showing off his growing abs and flat stomach. They didn’t hide the bulge growing in the front of his shorts, much the opposite. The fine and smooth fabric gliding over the polished silicone as he walked sent jolts of newfound lust to Max’s brain.

“Don’t you look the cutest,” Théo said, introducing their help for the evening to the prestigious and demanding audience.

“What a refined look,” Aurélien praised, “I can only hope his actions are up to his looks.”

“We hope so too,” Marc sniggered, “It’s tiring to punish prisoners. Now, with Max, we’ve decided not to spend long hours torturing or spanking him. We just keep him under lock and key when he misbehaves. You don’t want to spend the rest of the evening inside the closet, do you, Max?”

The lad shook his head, letting know with a docile look and fluttering eyelashes that he would respect his young masters’ commands.

Théo showed the hobbles at wrists and ankles, pointing to how it allowed movement if undertaken with care.

“Could you have him show how to walk hobbled with a tray?”

Théo smiled at the suggestion.

“This is definitely something that Max should be able to do now. I’ll just adjust his bulb a bit…”

Théo didn’t give a reason for taking the large rubber pump out and inflating Max’s gag a tad more; nobody in the room questioned his move, and Théo didn’t lose his audience’s interest. His trainer demonstration made for great entertainment.

“Now, Max, go get the tray in the closet above the stove, get four glasses inside the cabinet above the sink, fill them with water and come to give us our drink in alphabetical order.”

This was it for the instructions; Théo snapped his fingers to get Max’s attention.

“What are you waiting for? Get moving, lad!”

Théo whipped his riding crop across the air, to add a threat to his order. Maximilien complied and took the small steps required. Thankfully, his wrists were cuffed together, but they had no link to the rest of his body. This made it easy to get the stuff from the cabinets; the last thing he wanted was to break something, which would bring an endless stream of annoyances from his little masters.

“I don’t get tired of these outfits,” Thomas said, admiring the gleaming black silicone and the mid-section it enhanced so perfectly. The front was white, but offered pleasant reflections too, and it did for a mesmerizing show. The concern and seriousness over his task had Max’s forehead display a frown.

“Isn’t he a hard-working fellow?” Marc asked, “He was quite a slob and a hopeless wanker when we started training him. His mother can’t believe how much he’s improved. Look at his smile!”

It was tough being affirmative about Max’s facial expressions considering the half mask. Max nevertheless stood proud as a peacock in front of Aurélien, his tray at his chest level, with four glasses filled with an adequate quantity of water. Max picked up a glass.

“Thank you,” he said, bringing his glass to his lips as if it were a great vintage.

Max stepped towards Marc, who picked up his glass; in what seemed a really stupid mistake to Rémi, he then turned to Thomas. How dumb was it to sort names wrongly? Théo and Marc noticed straight away, but Théo’s wide grin turned into a snarl that didn’t bode too well for Max. He picked his glass from the tray, looking intently at his gagged charge.

“You may moan your apologies all you want,” Théo said at last, the failing butler’s pleas going on and even increasing in volume, “this doesn’t make your failure more acceptable. But don’t worry, this will be settled in due time… Now, there’s some pasta to cook, so no dawdling, there are active young men who need energy to handle their pupils!”

They all dragged chairs and sat down, talking among themselves or occasionally addressing their prisoners.

“You see how hard Max works, Rémi,” Aurélien said to his cousin, “This sets some high standards for your own performance when it comes.”

“He knows I have the riding crop, this is what motivates Max the most.”

The whole preparation went on for half an hour, with Max pressured into doing things faster and debates on how to best organize his chores. There were regular checks of the captives’ front pouches, which would have possibly triggered anxieties about priapism among other subjects. This group always deemed the frequent if not permanent boners to be a good omen, apparently.

Max set the table and indicated the pasta were ready with a curtsey they knew the meaning of.

“Time for lunch,” Marc translated, “Let’s see if our boys can behave better after a healthy and busy morning.”

He got help from Thomas and Aurélien to pick up Rémi’s chair and bring it to the table, between Thomas and Marc’s seats.

Max served the plates for the four boys and set them in front of his ‘customers’. He finished with Thomas, who fondled the front of his kinky shorts.

“Go and see Théo or Aurélien,” he winked at his accomplices across the table, “We’ve got your new friend to take care of.”

“Let’s share,” Théo thanked. He grabbed Max’s butt as the fetish-wearing butler boy came within reach.

“Come over here, there’s a little bird in his nest that needs some care.”

Aurélien’s hand touched the boner, sliding inside its silicone wrapping, still as moist and slippery as when they’d first put the shorts on him. The two teams got busy, nibbling on their pasta while wanking their charges. Rémi was a pressure cooker at this point of the day, and the plug plus the pouch made it easy for his challengers to win.

There were small, short moans from the two fondled victims, with the frequency increasing before they went for small shouts of relief the rubber bladders mostly muted.

“Here they come again,” Théo laughed as they left both of their clients panting, recovering from the orgasm they’d reached at almost the same time.”

TBC

[Bondwriter]

Rémi and his new friend's ordeal isn't quite over yet...

Sweaty Tie-Up: Naughty Siblings

Chapter 15 – Dinner Time

“It’s a tie again,” Marc noticed, “It took less than three minutes for both of them.”

“Cum fountains,” Aurélien said with a disgusted look.

“Yes, get them out of their cock cages, and they spurt all over all the time,” Marc added.

The attention turned to the remaining food for the next ten minutes; Max wasn’t given much respite to get back to his duties. A little cut of the riding crop stung him into waiting on the table again.

He brought dessert, filled the glasses with water when needed, and removed the plates as they were done.

“I’m really glad Rémi’s spending the summer at our place, “Thomas rejoiced, “It will be nice having someone to do our chores. Our mom is quite a maniac and we sometimes run in trouble when we don’t clean after ourselves.”

“It sure makes life easier,” Marc approved, “Our rooms are always tidy after Max has come and played or spent the night for a sleepover. Our moms love us!”

“I’m full, this was good,” Théo said, pushing his plate, which Max quickly collected, “should we be kind and let our prisoners get a bite too? After all, Rémi was ready to make us long-term prisoners, there’s no reason to be fair or nice…”

“Let’s feed them anyway. We don’t want them to say we didn’t treat them well,” Aurélien said, “We can even show you how to do it best so you don’t have any disobedience or unwanted scream or shout from the bound boy you’ve got to feed.”

The exchanges on practice were a big topic for the quartet; the four of them had some experience they could draw on to imagine further situations and treatments to educate their bondage pupils.

“Let’s start with Rémi,” Aurélien stated, “Max still needs to help him with some pasta.”

Max picked up on the request and started moving; Théo and Aurélien stood and went across the table to be behind the charge that had to be fed. They made way for the butler who brought the pan with pasta; he served a solid helping on the plate.

Théo deflated Rémi’s muzzle; Aurélien removed it.

“It’s your turn to show that you’ve been properly trained, cousin…”

Aurélien’s tone let Rémi know this was serious discipline business. It was confirmed by the gloved hand, with its dual layers of leather and rubber protecting it on the outside, which Aurélien clamped over his mouth.

“Swallow your spit; you don’t want to drool in front of our guest.”

Rémi gulped, casting an eye over Théo putting a rubber glove on over his leather one too.

“This isn’t too difficult, Théo, though it requires some attention. For Rémi’s proper digestion, he needs to chew on his food well. We count up to twenty openings and closings of his jaws. This is easy to do if you keep your hand over his mouth; then you feel if he’s chewing properly, and it helps to keep the count.”

Théo seemed easily sold on the technique. He picked up a spoonful of tortellini and brought it to Rémi’s lips. Aurélien took his hand away, gliding downwards and making sure Rémi obediently opened his mouth. Théo smiled as he crammed the spoon inside Rémi’s mouth; he pulled it out, setting his latex-covered palm over his lips.

“One… Two…” he chirped, letting everyone know of Rémi’s progress. Marc and Thomas cast an interested eye over the scene.

“Come over here, Max,” Marc ordered, snapping his fingers and pointing to the ground between him and Thomas.

The butler obliged, allowing the audience to have someone to knead during the lengthy and tedious feeding of the prisoner. Théo made big spoonfuls, which justified the lengthy chewing also.

“He’s chewing very steadily,” Théo praised. They’d emptied half the plate and it all went fine. Rémi could see his cousins’ pleased looks; they took some pride in his achievement.

The feeding went on, with a discussion on proper digestion, and on the best diet for their captives.

“They need some proteins at their age. They have to build up bones.”

“I can give them some milk to drink,” Thomas joked, grabbing his crotch in a playful demonstration.

“Give little baby his milk,” Marc reacted.

This went on until Rémi was almost done with the plate; it was entertaining banter, though he didn’t care much for the more scatological parts they told while he was eating. He was chewing the eighteenth time for what had to be the spoonful before the last when disaster struck.

Rémi felt a tingle in his throat, and he couldn’t help but sneeze and cough at the same time. Théo’s hand collected some of the starchy paste that Rémi’s mouth expelled, with a nice puddle on the table in front of the captive.

“Uh, sorry, I…”

Théo placed his soiled hand over the boy’s mouth.

“Don’t make it worse, Rémi. I doubt you made your cousins too proud. How do you punish him for such a mistake?” Théo asked.

“We may add points to his tally and make his slavery longer. We may also find more immediate ways to show we don’t approve of his behaviour. We usually have him bound overnight, and we may make the tie-up uncomfortable for the worst offences.”

“Mmmmmmgrmm?!”

Rémi was trying to plead for leniency, but Théo’s grip tightened to keep him quiet while he replied to Aurélien.

“This is proper. I think we should think of something for both our pupils, since they both deserve some detention time after their failings.”

They didn’t expand on the nature of the punishment; Aurélien used a napkin to clean up Rémi’s face. He handed it to Théo so he could wipe his hand too. The feeding resumed, with Aurélien bringing the spoon to his cousin’s lips two more times. Théo was in ambush; with the feeding over, and a glass of water swallowed by their charge, he delighted in applying the muzzle. The inflating of the bulb was done slowly and expertly, bringing the pressure to high levels gradually, checking with the captive that every pumping of the pear-shaped rubber bladder added to the quietness.

“And what about now?”

“mmmmmm”

Rémi could only produce a low, whiny moan through his nostrils. His oral cavity was completely occluded, and no air could come through. Théo gave one final deflating pump press, which provided relief after the extreme pressure he’d reached.

“Let’s see if it still works when I’m being nice.”

Théo grabbed Rémi’s nipple and twisted it wickedly; the victim screamed in the gag, confirming it still provided enough of a sound-dampening effect.

“It should do. Now, it’s up to Max to eat.”

Marc wanted to give it a try; he volunteered for the task, starting with having Maximilien sit down. He bound him efficiently to the chair; there were only three coils involved, but once they’d been wrapped and knotted, they completed the arm binder to fully immobilize the lad.

Thomas gave his new friend a hand; he loosened the straps and removed the clinging gag.

“He’s sweated a lot, my hand glides over his face,” Thomas noted.

“Don’t give Thomas any grief, lad,” Marc sternly advised, “You must be hungry and you want to eat.”

Marc held the pan with the rest of the pasta. He brought the spoon to Max’s mouth, and he traded places with Thomas.

The routine resumed with the second recipient of their feeding ministrations. Marc and Théo took the chance to tell a few anecdotes involving their pupil’s digestive tract. Rémi wondered what was true in all they said. Max didn’t react, chewing his food under his young master’s supervision, acting unaware of the stories about his diarrheic episodes or his farts they told.

“I’m sure our new friends’ advice will save you from such issues in the future, Max. We’re almost done, but you need fuel to go on…”

Marc leisurely fed his captive, with everyone looking and commenting. The pan was almost empty.

“What should we do with them next?” Théo asked.

“There’s some cleaning to do, and we may get them in bed. It’s nine already.”

“Get them in bed? Didn’t we say there should be some overnight tie-up punishment?” Marc wondered.

“Indeed. I meant ‘get them in their overnight position’, of course, they won’t escape their punishment.”

The focus got back to Max, who was on the last spoonful. He got some water to drink and his black muzzle back.

Théo and Aurélien had already grabbed Rémi, releasing him from the chair.

“You’re first for the bathroom privileges, little Rémi,” his cousin said softly, “we need to have you clean and dry for beddy-byes.”

The tone and choice of words reminded Rémi of past episodes. There had been times when Hervé and his cousins had dressed him up as a baby, and notably put him in a nappy.

He didn’t have much time to get overly suspicious; the flurry of activities he was the centre and focus of had his mind busy doing what he was told. He didn’t get an enema once he’d relieved himself. He’d gone for number one only, having no urge to go number two in the evening.

This made for a rather quick stay in the bathroom. They removed his shorts, had him on the throne briefly, they wiped him up good and they got him in flimsy silk pyjama pants.

“All clean and almost ready for bed, little one,” his cousin said. “Aurel! Théo! Send Max in, we’re done with Rémi.”

Aurélien sent his prisoner on his way, waiting for the other one. Rémi crossed Max at the large table; they exchanged looks. Rémi tried to convey some reassuring feeling that this wasn’t too much of an ordeal. His friend winked, though Rémi couldn’t really tell what it meant.

“Stay there, Rémi, we’re coming over,” Aurélien said, leaving the lounge and joining his older relative. Théo had a large bag with him.

“We’ve got just what you need to have a peaceful and quiet night, little Rémi,” Théo said, “I’ve been told you’ve been in nappies before. It’s fortunate, since this is what’s in store for you.”

“Mmph?”

There was genuine concern in Rémi’s reaction.

“We’ve grown fond of playing babysitter with Max. Marc really loves turning him into an infant. He’s rather fond of changing him and dressing him up. It’s fun, though it’s a lot of work too.”

“Yes, but it was so much fun when we had Rémi as our baby cousin! This brought him and his friends two or three pegs down!”

Théo grabbed a large plastic mat from his bag. He unfolded it over the table.

“Hop and lie on it, baby Rémi,” Théo said, adding the dreaded word that made the captive explicitly inferior.

The pupil jumped backwards and sat over the piece of furniture. The boys had him lie over his back, lifting his legs up so he wouldn’t lie fully over his single-gloved arms. Aurélien slid his pyjama trousers down, and off eventually. He held to Rémi’s legs; Théo pulled three nappies. He put two down at Rémi’s side, and undertook putting him in the first one. It was huge, quite wide and quite thick.

The cellulose prison encircled his midsection fully. Théo’s slender and skilled hands adjusted the fit; he eventually removed the protection from the sticky tabs, which he pushed over the nappy, locking it shut. The waist was tight around Rémi’s belly; Théo took a step back, looking from every angle. He then felt how tight it was.

“One last thing before we move on.”

He pulled a surgical blade from his bag.

“Mmmmrbbblllmmm,” Rémi protested when he saw the gleam of the metal Théo was showing around.

“Do not fret, silly,” Théo laughed, “I wouldn’t have put the nappy on if I wanted to circumcise you!”

This got a laugh from Aurélien.

“Yes, baby Rémi; Théo is just going to make sure you don’t leak.”

Rémi wondered what this was about; with small and quick moves, Théo cut slits at the front of the nappy, hence piercing holes in the outside waterproof layers.

It looked and it felt like the following nappies were even larger; the second one got the same treatment as the first one, with several slits in the front to let liquid seep out.

Aurélien came to the rescue for the third one, because strength was needed to pull the flaps together and get them to hold with the sticky tabs. Théo didn’t think it was enough.

“I’ll just reinforce the waist and the tabs with some tape.”

He used a long strip of the wide surgical tape; it held the whole thing together, or that’s what it felt like to Rémi. His midsection was clamped in a cellulose trap.

“I hear they’re almost done with Max,” Théo said, “Let’s get the matching plastic pants on, to have a leak-proof baby.”

The final item Théo got out of his bag of tricks matched the shorts and muzzle indeed. It was made of the same material, and it seemed already polished. Théo slid it up Rémi’s legs slowly.

“Nice for him you had his legs shaved, because it would pull them quite badly.”

Aurélien offered his help, pulling the waistband in the back while Théo handled the front, and pulling the silicone over the bulky mass encasing Rémi’s crotch. It slid well enough over the top nappy, and it didn’t take long to fully cover the nappies.

The shorts, for lack of a better name, climbed rather high on the waist, reaching just below Rémi’s navel. Théo folded the thin edges, pushing them under the bulk of the nappies.

“To make sure he doesn’t leak,” he explained Aurélien.

TBC

[Bondwriter]

The ordeal gets worse for Rémi and his new friend...

Chapter 16 – Put Away for the Night

“You’re done putting Rémi into his nappy? Here comes Max, then,” Thomas cheered, pushing the refreshed captive in front of them. They hadn’t bothered getting him in pyjama trousers, so his bobbing dick preceded him.

“Naughty, naughty,” Théo said, flicking the turgid piece of flesh when Max got close enough, “We’ll have to do something about it, like smothering this naughty willy of yours under several layers of nappy!”

His three goons’ reaction was enthusiastic.

“Brilliant!”

“Great idea!”

Aurélien got Rémi on his feet, while his brother, Marc and Théo installed Max over the mat. They observed his hard-on for a moment. Once Rémi’s ankles were hobbled, Aurélien could join the rest to be as fast as possible to get Max into his nappies.

They met difficulties with the first one; Max’s prick didn’t want to go down, and it was long enough that it always peeked through the waistband. It took several tries, which ended in failure, before Théo resolved to use an old, tried technique.

“Hold on with the nappy, I’ll get his willy to deflate.”

He seized the member and got to wanking the lad; Théo’s accomplices kept his legs spread, with his knees almost touching his shoulders; when Max came, he flooded his own chest and belly with the six or seven sudden spurts the orgasm caused.

Marc wiped it summarily and the nappying resumed. It worked much better, and with the four pairs of hands holding Max and wrapping the nappies, he soon had his midsection enlarged as much as his friend.

“The really nice thing about these pants,” Théo said, pulling them up to finish the job, “is that they’re made of thin and extensible silicone. So it can stretch quite a bit. Just like a balloon.”

“So they can fill it up and it just inflates?” Thomas asked mischievously.

“That’s what we were told,” Théo answered. “I’ll go warm up some milk so our babies get a last drink before they go beddy-bye.”

Marc substituted for Théo, and he tucked the legs and waist of this outward film so it would indeed be leak-proof. Aurélien and Thomas helped him out, noticing his genitals were out of reach.

“This is a way to avoid some special leaks!” Marc giggled.

His cousins then inspected Rémi one more time. Théo interrupted them.

“Two baby bottles, all warm and sweet for our babies.”

He held two large, translucent bottles with a fat nipple on top. It looked like chocolate milk in them. The captors removed both boys’ muzzles at the same time. Thomas gave Max his bottle, and Marc Rémi’s.

The boys drank what was actually chocolate milk, rather lukewarm than warm, but it wasn’t unpleasant. Once the teenagers had gulped down the whole liquid, they had to kneel, each handgagged by their feeders.

“We may get you some extra dessert,” Théo said, lowering his trousers and underwear. Rémi took in the dick much as he’d taken in the food; Marc took his hand off, Rémi opened wide and the youthful and lively member entered his mouth.

“Don’t give me teeth,” Théo commanded. He didn’t say much more before a while, as Rémi’s oral favours sent some tingles throughout his body, increasing in intensity until he discharged, the semen flood accompanying his swearing.

Thomas yelled his pleasure soon after, Max having performed another flawless blowjob. Aurélien was next; Marc had also taken Théo’s place, with Rémi avidly taking him in his mouth and sucking on him.

There was panting while the two pairs of handlers got the inflatable gags back on.

“Sorry, lads, but babies are best seen, not heard. And this makes you so cute that you shouldn’t be afraid to be seen. Man, is it me or are they getting better at sucking? I wonder if it has to do with them having filling gags,” Marc said, pressing on the pump that expanded the bulb inside Rémi’s mouth.

“You must be twice as horny with two prisoners, my friend,” Théo stated matter-of-factly.

“I’m fine, Théo, Rémi’s sucking was first class, I’ve gotten his mouth inflated but he’s gotten my dick deflated for a while.”

“Like ten minutes?”

The four captors laughed. They exchanged more pleasantries as they framed their two charges and led them towards the large wardrobe.

“This is where you’re going to spend the night. A nice crib for our two babies, isn’t it?”

Théo opened the door, showing the large empty space. There was just a thick iron bar to hand clothes towards the top, some two metres high.

“If you will, Rémi,” the cute lad said, curtsying with deference, “You may step in.”

Rémi climbed inside the wardrobe; Théo pushed him to the left, and he followed him inside.

“I’ll remove your glove.”

His friends knew how to help; they had leather cuffs ready when he shucked the arms restraint off. They wrapped them around Rémi’s wrists.

“Hands up!” Théo ordered.

Rémi followed the order, with his wrists on each side of the bar above his head. Théo padlocked the D-rings, so the captive would stay with his arms above him . Rémi faced the back of the wardrobe; he could feel the little crowd getting busy behind him. Hands wrapped light cuffs around his thighs, and locked a short length of chain between them, holding his legs while leaving a little slack. The nappy’s bulk made this welcome since it was a massive volume of cellulose and made it impossible for his thighs to touch.

He felt Max being pushed forward through the open doors.

“Let’s have him cuddle with Rémi.”

The mittened hands came into Rémi’s field of vision; he recognized Thomas and Marc’s fingers cuffing his companion’s wrists together just at Rémi’s belly button level. They didn’t add to the binding, but they linked their legs through the knees cuffs and a further set on ankles cuffs. There were a couple inches of slack at the most; Rémi was firmly anchored to the bar, so this still made a solid block of the two captives.

“They will be snugly together for a whole night. There’s some venting, lads, don’t worry, you won’t suffocate. But you should be able to keep each other warm,” Marc snarled.

“Whoever gets his little friend to cream his nappy gets a reward?” Théo offered.

“This seems only right,” Aurélien replied, “Though poor Rémi is a little bit at a disadvantage. Max can use his hands to get him to spurt his load, but Rémi can’t.”

“I know our cousin,” Thomas intervened, “He’s able to get Max to cum by just wriggling his butt. I think they can’t cream their nappies, it’s too thick and their little willies are totally crushed in there.”

Rémi didn’t quite feel like this. Of course, his rod didn’t jut out proudly, but arousal was definitely palpable; his hard lump fought the wall of cellulose.

“Are they secure?” Théo asked Marc.

“They’ll be snug as bugs in a rug,” Marc confirmed.

“We should leave them, then, there’s plenty of big boy fun to be had. Sleep tight, little ones, and enjoy tomorrow morning’s surprise.”

“This should get you awake,” Aurélien laughed.

The door closed behind them. The sound of the lock was unmistakable.

Max’s silicone-covered cheek rested on Rémi’s shoulder. He leaned forward, brushing lightly the polished layer against the Rémi’s face. It felt comforting. The surfaces glided smoothly against each other, which proved the polishing served a purpose.

Max made little grunts; Rémi couldn’t make a word out of it, yet, with the bare chest pressed against his back, and the soft breath he felt over his gagged face, Rémi felt great. He still had no urging physiological need bothering him, and he savoured the moment.

Max’s snores and moans soon became clearer to the toddler with his hands linked to the rail. Max stuck to him and the distinct grinding of his hips had Rémi feel the hardness despite the many thick layers separating them. Their silicone pants also made the contact feel different, as if the nappies had been dipped in oil; this made for a smooth contact.

The little gagged melody Max sung to his ear was one of sacrifice. The boy’s horniness defied physics, and he sounded like his back and forth motions rubbing against Rémi brought their expected result. Max was about to lose the challenge they’d been given.

It lasted some tens of minutes. Max had gotten his hands over Rémi’s chest, pulling him against him while fucking his own nappy with increasing ardour, enjoying the resistance his bound friend’s nappied and slick bum offered. The tune changed subtly, until the swelling noise pleasure brought rose from deep within.

The panting gasps were enough to let Rémi know his friend had lost. He wished he could see him, turn his head and look in his eyes; yet the wardrobe was dark and he couldn’t make a plea looking at him. They stayed like this, because they couldn’t move much anyway, but this time Rémi tried to speak actual words, hoping that the tone of his voice would be enough to get them across to Max.

“Mrmrmmggrm… Mmmghfllmrghm..”

Max had no clue what Rémi said, but he could guess; he let his mittened hands slip down Rémi’s belly and he laid them over the nappy. He made a questioning “Mmm!” He felt Rémi nod, while giving his coded gagged affirmative answer.

“MMph!”

Max was a good friend and he busied himself working something out. He was persistent, and his immediate presence, his smell and his attention were enough to get Rémi to full satisfaction. His ample strokes were accompanied by the bespectacled boy shaking his nappied booty; the two of them were motivated enough that soon Rémi also lost the game, thwarting their captors’ plan for appointing a winner.

Once Rémi had exploded, making high-pitched nasal sounds, they fell silent; Rémi held on tight to the bar and Max snuggled from behind.

They fell silent, recovering from the fun time. They listened to what was taking place outside for the first time. They could hear their keepers talking, but they sounded quite far away, possibly outside. The captives snoozed in and out, and eventually they had another bout of rubbing, but it didn’t work out the second time.

It had been long enough that the need to pass water grew and grew. Rémi had some experience with such a regressive punishment; he’d spent a whole night nappied and sitting in a high chair. Peeing in the nappy wasn’t too bad. It was a bit different when it grew cold afterwards.

He didn’t hesitate to go; he could feel, and smell, that his mate had emptied his bladder also, so there was less embarrassment being forced to perform such a vile feat. Rémi relaxed his sphincters, the warm liquid spreading around his cock . This actually felt nice, if only because of the welcome relief.

Max grunted and groaned sympathetic messages, turning this awkward moment into a shared ordeal, which Rémi found really moving. His cock had a little bit more leeway to grow and rub in the wet nappy. This was a little humiliating, but Max’s soothing presence allowed him to doze off again.

Rémi woke up to add more pee , but the heavy and thick padding seemed to swallow it all. Max softly glided over his bum, and this went on for a long time; it had been long since they’d heard voices, but Rémi had no hint whether it was just after midnight or much later; he made the most of it and relaxed his muscles, enjoying Max’s support. He drifted in and out of sleep, losing any sense of time.

The torpor ended rather brutally. Rémi came to the sudden realization of what was happening in his tummy, which got him fully awake in a flash. His eyes opened wide in the darkness, with adrenalin kicking in and allowing him to piece it all together: the surprise had to do with the chocolate milk, or something.

His senses were heightened by the cramp in his stomach: he could feel Max’s tummy resting against his back. His comrade in-distress underwent similar symptoms. They snuggled and made small noises to try to hold on, adopting a collective mind-set; this might have spared them some tens of minutes of the ordeal that followed, but the gurgling sounds were followed by long breaks of wind, which the nappies absorbed also, giving only pestilent hints of what was to come.

The insidious laxatives the chocolate milk was laced with got their toll. Rémi was first to break up. He felt the back of the nappy filling with liquid poo, which made for a warm and wet cushion, which Rémi felt no desire to sit upon. He was desperate and thoroughly humiliated. Once again, it was Max’s comforting voice that helped Rémi no to panic; his wardrobe mate was under the same spell and he was emptying his bowels.

It was less than a half-hour when the door behind them opened; to the two ‘babies’, having to endure the smell that seemed to grow stronger didn’t help to pass the time. It felt like an eternity being trapped inside what was turning into an outhouse.

TBC

[Bondwriter]

The captives still get lots of attention in this coming chapter!

Sweaty Tie-Up: Naughty Siblings

Chapter 17 – Aftermath

“I see you found out about the surprise, boys” they heard Marc say.

“I smell it, rather. Their over-pants for the nappies really did the trick; I can’t see any mess, let me check...”

Thomas felt Max’s thighs for any leak; they were dry.

“Yes, I can smell it too. It’s time to evacuate this source of toxic fumes before the house is completely contaminated,” Marc laughed, “It’s still early but we thought we’d have a look before the others wake up. I think some changing is in order. And you’ll have to do it outside.”

The two friends acted fast, motivated by the urgent need to get rid of the threat of a horrible morning to be had by all. Marc had a clear view of how he would handle the situation.

“You will take care of cleaning up, Max. You’ll go behind the house, there’s a faucet with a hose, and a drain…”

Marc gave the full set of instructions that Max then followed through the next forty minutes. The utterly soiled nappies disappeared inside thick bin liners; Max’s newly freed hands expertly handled the removal of both soiled nappies to prevent any unpleasant dropping on the concrete. Marc and Thomas gave him a hand for this specific task; Max handled the cleaning and thorough hosing of their bodies, now naked from the waist down. Marc came back from disposing of the liners; he joined Thomas to partake in the soaping and scrubbing of the captives’ midsections.

They brought them back inside; Marc had left the door and windows open; he’d switched the fan on. It had made the trick; it felt a bit chilly, so early in the morning, but the unpleasantness was gone.

Thomas and Marc took their charges to the changing table and got them in nappies again. The over-pants had been cleaned and dried too, so Rémi and Max got back to the state they were in the previous evening.

Rémi caught a glance at the clock on the wall. It wasn’t six o’ clock yet. Their handlers had them switch position in the wardrobe. Being clean made it a much less cruel predicament having to spend more time inside the now breathable atmosphere of the large wooden box. They were locked inside and left to their own device; Rémi didn’t replicate the behaviour Max had displayed the evening before, though.

He was slowly recovering from the humiliating moment at the hands of other boys who’d actually brought him much relief, even though they’d gotten him to be in such a dire predicament in the first place.

Maximilien wasn’t as broken down; in his own cooing way, he got across that he wouldn’t mind losing the challenge again. The lad had started wondering over the last semester or so if Marc and Théo weren’t making him a priapic monster or if it was just puberty fully settled; whatever the reason, he still had urges to get his throbbing cock milked.

Rémi tried to oblige, but at the moment he gained more pleasure from rubbing his cheek against Max’s. He didn’t yield enough passion through his mittens to get Max to shoot his load. This was fortunate for the both of them. Any incriminating evidence had disappeared in the bin liners. They passed the inspection that took place upon their release, at seven thirty when the whole gang was up. Hands slid up the thighs under the nappies, feeling for any unwanted wetness.

“They’re dry, I think,” Aurélien said, “But we’ll have to make sure when we change them, I can’t reach all the way down.”

“We forgot to have a look at the nappies when we changed them,” Marc regretted.

“I wouldn’t have looked,” Thomas frowned.

“It seems you had some fun with them while we were asleep,” Théo said, “I think Aurélien and I should take care of getting them to fulfil their morning duties.”

The vague category got broken down in more precise and consequential activities. There was a trip to the bathroom, with its various excretory and cleaning tasks. They brought them back to the main room, in chains and naked but for their gags.

“You will show our friends you’re as good a butler as Max,” Aurélien instructed, “You’ also have to defend our family’s honour, and show courage. You will prove our new friends that playing the naked butler doesn’t cause you any shame.”

“You’ll be on your throne to watch the proceedings, Max,” Théo told his submissive friend, “in the ceremony armchair of course.”

There were silent gasps and wide eyes from both bound boys; they could trade looks now, and what their diminutive masters had in mind wouldn’t be restful. The newly found friendship had them wink in understanding that they would be there to support each other, and try to thwart their handlers’ attempts at pitting them against each other.

“We’ll have your arms bound behind while we get Max on his chair, then we’ll get you ready for being the perfect waiter,” Aurélien whispered to his cousin.

They all heard him and the four boys united to get Rémi’s arms in a tight lock behind his back; they used the dreaded reverse prayer position, pinning his wrists to his spine right between his shoulder blades. This went fast, and they all assisted to make a harness that managed the trick in the cruellest way for Rémi.

His legs weren’t forgotten, and a few loops and white cord criss-crossing, nothing fancy, forced him to remain standing at the same spot. Hopping wasn’t advised in his situation, losing balance meaning some nasty fall.

He was fully prepared to witness the gang pounce on Maximilien next. The determined little troop immobilized the standing, naked boy and dragged him to the chair.

“The throne, with all its accessories,” Théo said. He broke from the group after checking the others held on to Max. Rémi saw a little brass nut inserted in the middle of the seat. The cute tween retrieved a plug that he screwed over the large chair with armrests they’d gotten from somewhere. This required tools and know-how.

“This is pretty fancy. Did you do this by yourself?” Thomas asked.

“My uncle has a workshop in his garage, and that’s where we fixed the chair,” Théo explained.

Marc was busy rubbing some oil over Max’s butt crack so he would lodge himself painlessly over the peg. It wasn’t the hugest plug Rémi had seen, but it was at least the size of Max’s own dick. It was much shorter, though.

Aurélien, Marc and Thomas picked up their pledge and sat him onto the protuberance; they brought him down softly, getting a surprised moan from the impaled boy.

“Mmmrgmm?”

“It is moulded from your dick indeed, Max. Oh, you were just surprised it felt like a dick?”

They didn’t taunt him about the plug once he’d sat fully and had actually made it disappear; the young abductors turned their attention to what was under their eyes: Max’s naked body.

The knot tiers’ four pairs of arms were the proverbial spider weaving its web, and loop after loop, cinching knot after frapping knot, clove-hitch after lark’s head were laid out methodically by the four boys. They had to coordinate verbally.

“There, Tom, do his elbows next and link them to the rung at the back… Yes, there…”

Rémi felt thrills run up his spine; he felt elated and softened by the show, the hypnotically moving arms, the cute bodies with bare legs and shorted bums, the trussed up naked body being immobilized further and further… He barely felt the discomfort of having his arms so strictly restrained.

The captors put the last touch to Max’s bondage; Aurélien and Marc practiced their head harness skills. They didn’t manage from the first try, but on their second try it pulled Max’s head against the top slat at the back of the chair.

They took a few steps back; four pairs of eyes scrutinized Max’s body. His limbs were wrapped in ropes in twelve places, with all the joints carefully handled to make escape difficult. The quality harness surrounding his torso pinned Max to the back mercilessly; the head harness really was the cherry on top, imprisoning the thoroughly gagged face.

They’d left his penis and testicles free of ropes; this detail bothered Marc.

“Quite a nice job, isn’t it? But there’s something missing. Who’s in to gift wrap Max’s cock? It needs to be kept in check, he looks like he’s begging us to wank him.”

Marc stood straight in front of his submissive schoolmate; the bound pupil had no choice but to watch him. Tom volunteered; they all wanted to show how good they were with ropes. The boy didn’t disappoint, anchoring a clove hitch at the base of Max’s rod and balls, and knotting a net that came up to the tip of the erect prick.

“I’m afraid it’ll keep him hard rather than modest,” Thomas commented after he was done.

“It’s some nice macramé,” Théo praised.

“This has been a fun rope workshop,” Aurélien concluded, “but I’d like to get some breakfast. Let’s get Rémi ready.”

Rémi welcomed his captors as liberators. He was very grateful for his arms being freed from the stressful predicament; he still had some time ahead before it would really hurt, but it was now at the point when he could no longer ignore the taxing binding anymore.

They wrapped leather cuffs at his wrists and elbows first, and then his knees and ankles received their own leather bracelets. They put hobbling chains between his wrists and his knees only, though.

“If you act as expected, we won’t need to hobble you further,” Aurélien explained.

“But if you do poorly, we’ll use them to make your work even more difficult,” Marc said in a low voice, as if he were spilling precious beans.

The quartet picked up Max’s chair and set it on one of the two platforms on wheels; Rémi waited for the order to get to the kitchen.

“We’re hungry, so you’d better get going,” Aurélien whined, triggering his older cousin into action.

Rémi started performing his imposed duties under the gaze of his keepers. Marc stayed at his sides and pointed to the various cupboards where he could get all the stuff he needed to fix breakfast. This didn’t require much time and culinary skills, since it consisted in taking out bags, packages and bottles out from the fridge and set them on a tray.

“Before he serves, I’ll change his gag. There’s one that’s made just for an occasion like this, and that will turn him into the spiffiest waiter,” Théo offered.

He got to the chest and pulled out some satiny strips. Thinking, he rushed to the small dorm they’d slept in.

“Have a seat, Jeeves. My ceremony gag will give our butler some elegance, and the scarf we’ve wanked into this morning should make a perfect wad to stuff his mouth with for the occasion.”

Marc joined his friend at their victim’s sides to help him out, picking the pear to deflate the bladder inside Rémi’s mouth and remove the clinging silicone mask. Théo was waiting in ambush; he pushed the balled up handkerchief inside the open gob.

He kept a hand clamped over Rémi’s mouth while he picked up the necktie stuck in his waistband at the back of his shorts. His friend provided support to make the job quicker, and they used the necktie as a cleave gag, making two turns between his teeth before they knotted it solidly over the nape of his neck.

“This makes for a sturdy foundation. Have a look, my friends,” Théo said, brandishing the long satin strip to get Aurélien and Thomas’ attention away from Max, whose vertical penis made for an entertaining show. They’d gotten feathers to make it twitch. They lifted their eyes from the swinging prick, and stepped to see Théo wrap the satin band across Rémi’s lower face. He slowly tightened the knot at the back of his neck. Rémi felt the grip of the fabric seizing his jaws and sealing his lips. It stretched a bit, and it felt smooth. The tightening got it to cling to his skin as surely as the silicone. The square knot Théo tightened locked the silk as surely as the more elaborate muzzles Rémi had been introduced to.

“How precious! Our butler will have a nice bow flowing down his neck.”

Théo wasn’t done; he held another strip of silk. Standing in front of Rémi this time, he wrapped it around his neck.

“A real bow-tie, a butler wants to look smart.”

TBC

[Bondwriter]

Sweaty Tie-Up: Naughty Siblings

Chapter 18 – Tests and Costumes

Rémi stood motionless, mesmerized by his handsome tailor. He could feel his member gorge with blood. He couldn’t resist Théo’s slender fingers or his cute and mischievous smile. The lads started over after fumbling around with the knot for a few seconds. The second time around, it went flawlessly.

Thomas had the video camera ready; he took shots of Rémi as he went on waiting on the guests sitting at the table. They had him pour cereals and milk in bowls, or butter their toasts. Rémi focused very hard on what they asked; in these settings, he knew the least mishap could have important consequences.

He didn’t fight the hands that reached for his sausage or grabbed his butt, and he acted as the perfect butler, waiting on his guests from the right and waiting patiently to be dismissed.

Aurélien was halfway through his bowl of corn flakes when he frowned, looking at Rémi.

“I agree with you, Théo, a butler has to look smart; you did well with this special butlering gag and the bow tie, but Rémi’s attitude isn’t much into just performing his duties; it shows.”

The bobbing sausage was in plain sight. There was a discussion on decency; Théo put the limit at dripping pre-cum while Thomas agreed that a hard erect cock was fine in the bedroom or bathroom, but not at the dining table.

Aurélien jumped to the entrance door, a few metres away, where one of their bags still lay. He opened the zip and sifted through quickly. He had a trophy to show too, and he brought back a silk sheath. Rémi had worn it already, when he’d been kept under Hervé’s control, and this sure made for a weird look.

“Yes,” Théo agreed, “This looks much more formal.”

The jutting gleaming black cock was even more conspicuous than its naked counterpart. The four boys sitting at the table were much less hungry now; they turned to the new toy Aurélien had created. Théo got a feather duster; Thomas stuck to a single feather while Marc and Aurélien put silk gloves on.

There were more demands from Rémi’s customers. The requests he got were for very small helpings, which allowed the clients to get the boy standing at attention in all meanings of the word. Then they tortured him by fondling or tickling lightly his throbbing, sheathed penis. It was tough for the waiter to decide which of the implements, or which of the wrists provided the most arousing caresses.

“I’d better warn you, Rémi,” Aurélien solemnly announced, “that you shouldn’t drip or leak. You’re still representing our family.”

“You wouldn’t want them to find out that you don’t do your best,” Thomas added.

This piqued Théo’s curiosity.

“Do you have to blackmail Rémi and threaten him to tell his parents?”

“Not his parents. But we have other cousins, and we know what school Rémi goes to. We don’t worry too much about this.”

“There’s always Hervé to get him back on track if he misbehaves .”

Rémi was boiling. The requirements of his trade allowed him to get his mind off his eager member; his guests did not, poking and prodding whenever it was within reach. The light brushings or the full-fledged grabs left him wanting for more. Worst of all, the prospect of his cousins enslaving him deeper hardened his rod further.

He was saved by the bell; they were all done with breakfast and they gave up on teasing him with their soft strokes. Aurélien and Thomas cast frequent glances at the clock; they seemed impatient to move on.

“This was good, and Rémi didn’t shame us by behaving too poorly,” Aurélien said, standing up.

The three other guests followed his lead. Marc went to check on Max, Aurélien and Théo disappeared in the bathroom to clean up. Rémi was left to pick up the bowls, boxes and bottles, putting everything over the tray. He positioned himself so he could look at Max and trade silent looks of solidarity.

The young butler didn’t seem too upset, if lack of irritation could be judged by the size and hardness of a boner. Its sheathed tip glistened from the distance; it was tough figuring out just through sight whether this was due to moisture or just the fabric’s sheerness. Max remained immobile, shaking his head and nodding, but showing no sign of discomfort due to his own predicament.

Rémi made two trips and he put everything away. Marc had explained washing-up the dishes was part of his duties. He was about to be done with this final task when Théo and Aurélien came to check on him, fresh from the shower. They wore the same football kits.

A closer glance had him think these clothes were tailor-made, much as the kinky ones they’d tried on. The boys were wrapped in gleaming nylon from their neck down to the top of their thighs. The jersey was white, with black hems at the neck and sleeves.

Théo took a glance at the breakfast table, and a longer one at the butler setting the dishes in the sink.

“Not too bad,” Théo told Aurélien, “He didn’t dawdle, I hope he managed to remain dry at the tip.”

“Go and check,” Aurélien encouraged his friend.

“Let me see…”

The boy reached for Rémi’s wrapped-up boner, feeling the fabric encasing its knob. Théo’s inspection lasted long enough that Rémi felt his boner grow yet harder and underwent the spasm that would mean pre-cum.

“Mmmrmmph?!”

Théo smiled at him.

“After a thorough check, I’m afraid to let you know your cousin has misbehaved, Aurel. Say, this gives me an idea. You’ve got a nice sheath for his cock, I’d like to show you one thing we’ve tried on Max before. I’ll go get all I need; I’ll call you when I’m ready.”

“I’ll get Rémi to hurry so he may come and see. I’m sure he might learn something from seeing you taking care of Maximilien,” Aurélien flattered his accomplice.

Théo dashed off; Aurélien came closer to his cousin.

“You’re almost done; you just need to wipe it all. This is a nice house, isn’t it? It’s not very big, but it’s nice for our troop to hang out together.”

Rémi nodded; his feelings were mixed, yet there had been some weird form of fellowship. Even with his enticing captors. He took a look at the tidy kitchen. His mom had taught him to be of help in a kitchen at a very young age, and it proved useful now.

They joined Théo in the next section.

“I was about to call you; Rémi’s done already, it’s impressive.” He turned towards Max. “You’ve got some serious competition, my little Max. Now, Rémi’s shown us that he can’t keep his sheath dry; you’d better behave and show you can. Hey, Marc and Tom!”

The two other members of the gang came out of the bathroom, wearing the same football kits as their two accomplices. Their midsections were enhanced by the black nylon wrapping that displayed their figures and assets.

Théo had prepared a silk handkerchief; it seemed the same make as Rémi’s over the mouth band. The three of them gathered around the chair to which Max was still as helplessly retrained.

“I use a hankie and rubber bands to wrap Max’s dick up.”

His slender fingers held the thin and glossy square on each side. He aimed the middle over the erect cock and slid the sides down over it. This made a fine sheath. Théo kept it with one hand, picking a rubber band with the other and sliding it along the silk, leaving it just above his scrotum.

“Let’s have his eggs in a nice little nest.”

“MMMrmmgph!”

Max’s lively reaction was surprising and Rémi tried to convey his sympathy. If his new friend opened his eyes so wide and grunted into his inflatable gag, it must be because he had a reason to fear Théo.

“Calm down, Max, you know we’ve improved when it came to using rubber bands on your cock.”

“What happened that you needed to improve?”

Marc laughed.

“Nothing much. We’d spread-eagled him standing in the doorframe and we put rubbers around his cock and balls. But then my mom called from downstairs, telling us to come with her grocery-shopping. She didn’t know Max was with us, so we had to leave him like this.”

“We loosened his gag,” Théo said, scolding Marc for letting their friends think they had unsafe practices, “We removed the scarf keeping our socks in his mouth.”

“We got him under the silence rule, and we forbade him to spit the socks out; but we didn’t have time to adjust or even remove the rubber bands and we came back two hours later to find Max’s dick having turned all purple,” the sidekick replied.

“To his credit, he’d kept the wadded socks in his mouth. Yet, as soon as we’d taken them out and we’d given him a drink of water, he acted unhappy and he whined, so we gagged him first and then we removed the rubbers. I really was afraid someone would have heard him despite the two socks crammed inside his pie-hole,” Théo told the brothers .

“That’s the beauty of having him gagged when he comes for a sleepover,” Marc smiled, “Our moms think our friends are quiet and civilized.”

“We do tame them, that’s for sure,” Théo said looking at the scarf wrapping the member, “Max needs some close control, look!”

The wrapped member twitched, the voice of the captors acting like a spell that made the pecker rise.

“Come over here, Rémi,” Aurélien called, “Let’s wrap your wiener up.”

Rémi obeyed; Thomas and Marc were ready when he came. They removed his sheath and bared his genitals and made a nice silky package around them, fixing the sheer fabric with rubber bands also.

“I’ll give you another chance,” his cousin announced, “You’re going to have Max soil his scarf too, but keep dry yourself.”

He patted his cousin’s bum to lead him towards the chair-bound captive.

“Sit over his lap… Yes, facing him…”

It took some effort and hands to have Rémi lift his legs in turn and slide them under the armrests. He ended up close to Max, his silk-clad sausage bouncing over the sitting prisoner’s belly.

Théo crouched at Max’s side, holding a large rubber band. He grabbed the two turgid members and linked them with the piece of wide elastic material that kept them together at their base.

“If you both manage to remain dry for ten minutes, you’ll be safe and you will get a morning of lessons and practice. If you fail, I’m afraid there will be some punishment,” the cute long-haired boy said, checking the two rods stayed together.

“Don’t screw up twice,” Thomas warned his older relative.

The four tormentors gathered around the sitting pair; they had their torture implements at hand. They used feathers and riding crops to elicit some motion; the gagged moans evolved. These weren’t words, but their tone and frequency were as good as full confessions that they were both failing his final test.

“They’re not going to make it.”

“I really thought that this time they were done,” Thomas laughed, “I was wrong, they can be milked endlessly.”

“Come on, Max,” Théo scolded, “Show our friends you’re up to such a challenge.”

The victim felt latex-covered fingers trying to access his back passage. It felt slick, no doubt lube had been used to make the whole work easier. Marc was kneading Rémi’s bum, sliding his middle and ring fingers up his crack.

The devious massager used his index finger and pinkie to caress Rémi’s silk-wrapped balls, which got the poor lad to squirm further. His motions increased, and both captives felt the sap rising in their loins. Max moaned, begging to no end Rémi to stop grinding his hips. Marc’s active fingers and the enthusiasm of the gang holding them made any resistance futile.

A final twitch and the gagged whining after seven minutes of attention let the tormentors know their charges had failed. Rémi’s wide eyes and both gagged pleas betrayed their condition. Marc slid his dry hand between the two bodies, feeling the tips of dicks.

“They both squirted their juice!”

“Naughty little boys,” Aurélien commented.

“That’s how we should treat them,” Théo said, “Like unruly little boys who get some time out for being naughty.”

The quartet stepped a few feet away; they spoke in whispers, Théo leading the conversation and getting hushed approvals from his companions.

TBC

[Bondwriter]

Sweaty Tie-Up: Naughty Siblings

Chapter 19 – Outdoors Fun

The little tormentors knew what they had to do; no time was lost to handle their pupils for the next stage. They didn’t say a word, at least none that would let them know of what was up.

Rémi was released from his straddling position; more dressing up was in store for him. This time, Aurélien got the English schoolboy outfit; Rémi noticed he brought two. He soon was lost in the sensations the care provided caused; the eight hands alternatively touching him kept him on his toes.

They removed the soiled silk scarf from his softening penis, and they pulled up the uniform silky briefs. The flannel shorts lined with satiny silk were next; Rémi could feel the soft and taunting caress the garments provided. The captors went on with the rest of the outfit; Aurélien and Théo took care of the shirt, blazer and necktie while Thomas and Marc handled the long socks and shoes.

They used cuffs to keep him restrained, though at that point Rémi wouldn’t have attempted anything silly; yet they stuck to their safety measures.

Rémi then witnessed the young abductors turning his new companion in a cute little schoolboy too. His outfit was identical to his, with the same forest green blazer and the red and blue necktie. Once Max was dressed up, the two pupils stood with their wrists cuffed behind their backs and their ankles hobbles with only a few centimetres of slack between them.

“They look spiffy, don’t they?” Théo remarked.

“They do,” Aurélien replied, “It’s too bad they don’t behave as well as they’re dressed.”

“We can handle this,” Mark claimed, “Let’s get them to their detention site.”

He waved a bunch of coiled ropes, which had the young riggers move on to their next stage. They bound the prisoner’s arms in the reverse prayer position, with their wrists firmly pinned between their shoulder blades. Their ankles were freed while their knees got hobbled, making only small steps possible.

Marc wrapped a collar around Rémi’s neck, and Théo took care of Max.

The little gang gathered more cords and filled bags with stuff; they did it behind their backs and stayed mostly unseen from their prisoners.

“You’ve got everything?” Aurélien asked.

“We’re all set, let’s go!” Théo chimed, clasping the spring hook of a dog leash to the front of Max’s collar.

Aurélien took care of tethering Rémi as his new companion was, and then the little troop was on its way. They went outside through the front door. Théo led the way and steered the group towards a large coppice that the unwilling guest hadn’t visited before. The path led them under the trees’ cover.

“Let’s get into the Woods,” Théo said, “This is where we can play without being bothered by our parents. It’s the perfect place for our unruly lads to undergo their detention time in peace.”

They walked only a few tens of metres further into the tree-planted area and they came out in a small clearing; not much light came down, but Rémi knew immediately they’d reached their destination. A circle of five trees bordered it; their straight trunks and smooth bark were an invite to use them as anchoring points for their captives, which the bespectacled boy realized straight away.

The four accomplices yielded to the call of the wild; they made different teams for the coming binding. Thomas joined Théo to truss Max up and Aurélien got Marc’s assistance to handle his older cousin. They led their captives to trees on opposite sides of the small clearing; they had them stand and lean against the bark, facing each other,

The boys being bound didn’t notice much of a decrease in their binders’ efficiency; the gestures remained ample and accurate, weaving loops around their limbs, their bodies and the trunks. The net tightened gradually around them until they were one with the trees. Their legs were closely united to the wood, their forearms pinned on each side of the trunks, and their torsos tightly pulled back making any motion impossible once all the ropes were laid out, tightened and knotted.

“Not so feisty now,” Théo said, looking at Max and then spinning on his heel and facing Rémi, “Our naughty pupils are almost ready for their detention.”

“Let’s get it over with and go have some big boy fun,” Marc advised, “Detention means they’re left on their own to think about their misdeeds while we get to play.”

There wasn’t much of a surprise when he picked up scarves from his bag. Aurélien deflated the rubber bladder inside Rémi’s mouth and released the buckles at the end.

“Keep your mouth open after I pull it off,” Aurélien warned, “Don’t make it tough for Marc.”

Marc made a ball out of two scarves; Rémi identified one as the sheath they’d wrapped Max’s cock in, but the other was some red satin and he hadn’t seen it before. Rémi’s blond cousin removed the muzzle; the pupil obediently kept his jaws wide open.

Marc inserted the packing; Rémi picked up the distinct, pungent smell of cum, which his taste buds confirmed. There was no chance his tormentors wouldn’t let him know anyway.

“Like it?” Aurélien smirked, “Max’s cum is on the first scarf, but we shared the red one with Théo last night to get a bigger sample of cum for you to suck on.”

“This should teach them to keep control,” Théo said, looking at them from the other side of the clearing while Max underwent a similar treatment, “You may add we had some stamina, since we managed to cream two scarves, so Max isn’t jealous and h may get a taste of us on top of Rémi’s.”

He patted his captive’s head while Thomas and Marc grabbed rolls of tape. On both sides of the clearing, the gang of abductors sealed their prisoners’ lips with several strips plastered over their mouths before two turns of the white silky adhesive around their heads made any spitting of the huge cummy masses impossible .

“Here you go,” Théo said, smoothing the white adhesive over Max’s face, “You won’t be chatting with your new friend, at least.”

“Aren’t we thoughtful, Rémi, “Aurélien snarled, “No blabbering that would get you in trouble.”

The blond boy checked with his fingers the tape clung to the skin as it should, and he turned towards the other pair of abductors.

“We’re all set here.”

Théo and Thomas agreed, and Marc’s offer to go shoot some hoops in front of the garage got unanimous approval.

“We’ll be going now,” Théo announced, “Feel free and try to get out of your ropes, but you’d better be good at it if you try.”

“They’d better indeed,” Thomas added, “Rémi knows how we handle failed escape attempts.”

Their bespectacled relative had no clear idea of what happened, but he could no longer express his opinion. He followed the leaving quartet until they left his field of vision. He could hear birds chirping and bees bumbling, but they were on their own.

Rémi had developed an ability to communicate despite the restraints and silencing methods his abductors used. Maximilien was also versed into this art. The trussed up boys traded glances and grunted softly in their gags to pass time, having grown a strange friendship at the hands of the diminutive tormentors. They got mutual support across in their limited non-verbal ways.

Rémi felt another bout of lust over coming him; the position and ropes were bearable, the gag’s taste caused his imagination to run wild, and seeing a properly bound and gagged sexy teen boy was the cherry on top. Max’s grunts also triggered his hard-on. Rémi regretted the use of his hands; he longed to fondle his growing boner.

Time went by, both boys similarly unable to get out of the ropes binding them strictly, and, from what Rémi saw, both very aroused by seeing and hearing each other.

This lasted until Max grew agitated all of a sudden. He opened his eyes wide, and the sounds he cast turned into shouts. Rémi identified this as a warning; yet he couldn’t turn and look what Max had spotted.

A dark shadow obscured his sight; Rémi closed his eyes as a reflex; he felt his glasses being removed and the silk blindfold immediately covered his face from the top of his forehead to just above his nostrils.

“Mmmrbbllmmm?”

Rémi’s gagged plea didn’t cause any vocal reaction from his attackers. Would Max have made such a fuss if he’d spotted one of their four tormentors? He shook his head, which brought a reaction, though no words were uttered to identify the intruders.

Two gloved hands seized his hair from behind, holding his head in a firm grip. He then felt another set of fingers, gloved also, slide thin stuff in his ears. This started expanding as soon as inserted, and Rémi recognized the rubber foam ear plugs that gradually filled his ear canals.

The small plugs soon occluded his ears totally; Rémi could only hear his heart pounding on his ear drums. He detected some motion, but mainly from the air the people around him displaced. He shook his head again, trying to dislodge the blindfold; Rémi was starting to wonder what was up, and getting a bit worried, Max’s eyes had shown surprise when the intruders had barged in.

The four hands grabbed his head again, and Rémi felt a bandage wrapped around his head and above his mouth three times. His abductors went on unravelling the long roll of gauze, wrapping it around the tree trunk. His forehead wasn’t forgotten, and Rémi’s head ended up fully immobilized in just a few seconds.

He discerned the sound of voices, but these came from very far away, and he couldn’t guess anything about the speakers from the distorted sounds the ear plugs dampened.

“Mmmmrbbblm?!”

With his head taken care of, his attackers turned to another part of his anatomy, a few feet lower. They unbuckled his belt, lowered his zipper and opened the shorts’ front; they felt his hard-on through the thin layer of his fancy underwear. Being thus assaulted by fingers would have caused most boys to grow soft, but Rémi got the opposite reaction. Now his kraken wanted release.

Lost in darkness and silence, Rémi felt a caress over his silk-clad genitals. The caress was very soft; it felt like a silk-gloved hand. Soon, the touch got closer and the trussed up boy felt a nose lightly rubbing his soft underwear. The air coming out from nostrils tickled his lower stomach. It was a gagged mouth. Rémi’s boner didn’t deflate.

This development reassured Rémi, because it meant this was another prank from his cousins and their new sadistic friends. He relaxed, letting the ropes hold him as he yielded to the pleasant feelings the gagged mouth’s soft strokes caused. Teeth grabbed the waistband, pulled the shorts down and let his impressive boner rise.

The turgid member didn’t get much time to enjoy his sudden freedom; a warm and wet mouth engulfed the piece of flesh and started pumping on it.

“Mmmrmmm…”

Rémi could hear his faint moans and his heart beating yet faster. The expert mouth working him up did its job well, getting Rémi into a frenzy until he eventually suffered the consequences and let his juice gush out in spurts. Rémi came back to Earth after this sudden, unexpected orgasm. His brain could work again; taking long breaths through his nose, he was slowly recovering. The mouth pulled away, and the gloved fingers put his pecker back behind his briefs.

Rémi could detect motion in the clearing but he was no longer the centre of attention. His mind focused on the experience he’d just been through. Memory worked in mysterious ways, and in the aftermath of his sexplosion, Rémi tried to put the pieces together. The lips, the nose, the pumping; they were all familiar to the blindfolded boy.

He waited patiently, leaning against the tree trunk, aware of the presence of several boys between Max and him. He could hear the sound of people speaking, but he couldn’t make out words or voices.

He was left trussed up to the tree and heard people getting busy; some time later he felt the touch of hands; he had company again. His meditation and thinking had gotten him to figure who could be there in the clearing. Someone unrolled the gauze pinning his head against the bark. He felt small fingers pulling the ear plugs off; the blindfold fell just afterwards. His intuition had been the right one to guess who’d sucked him off, but he hadn’t figured out all of his tie-up games friends would be gathered around him.

TBC

[Bondwriter]

Sweaty Tie-Up: Naughty Siblings

Chapter 20 – Announcements and Prizes

His senses were restored. Rémi found out three of his friends had joined Max and himself as the younger lads’ captives. The cock sucking had told him of Nicolas’ presence; taking a circular look, he spotted Philippe and Grégory had come along too. Or been brought along, he couldn’t know yet.

Théo set Rémi’s glasses back on his nose, which made it much easier for the bound lad to become fully aware of what was going on around him.

“You’ve got company, Rémi. We’ve got quite a few more lads to handle,” the cute boy whispered in his captive’s ear.

The trees circle had been used to welcome the newcomers; Philippe was to his right, facing Nicolas and Grégory on Rémi’s left. Max was all eyes, and he looked at his friends with interest. His friends made for a lovely display, and no doubt Max was getting much aroused by the show.

The five of them all wore their British schoolboy uniforms, with the tailor-made shorts showing they all had some enthusiasm to share and show. They all seemed to be very hard, which the garments were designed for.

The number of prisoners had increased indeed; the group of captors had also been reinforced. Hervé and Cédric now had the group of abductors at six members.

Hervé and Thomas were busy checking the knots keeping Grégory tightly united to his tree. Cédric and Marc were taking care of Nicolas, putting the finishing touch to his tree tie.

Théo and Aurélien stood at Rémi’s sides, having freed his head, leaving only his lower face swathed in tape.

“I hope you’ll be grateful, cousin, Hervé helped us plan this visit, and I’m sure you’ll enjoy it,” Aurélien said.

Hearing his name, Hervé turned to the group.

“We couldn’t miss the opportunity,” the 12-year old tormentor exclaimed, “We’ve had some fun time with Philippe and his friends, but they missed you, Rémi.”

The boisterous boy finished his job quickly. He inspected the boys one by one. He stopped in front of Maximilien.

“You look great in our school’s uniform, Max. Théo says you behaved and you made friends with Rémi?”

“He did,” Marc approved, “They got along well.”

“A little too well, because, they got each other horny,” Théo laughed.

“Rémi came?” Hervé asked, sounding surprised.

“He did, and way more than the three times a day you’d allowed,” Aurélien explained.

Hervé frowned.

“Let’s have a seat so we may tell of our pupils’ feats.”

The six captors sat in a circle in the middle of the clearing, which put them two or three metres away of the trussed up boys. Aurélien started telling his tale, knowing full well he could be heard by the five bound and gagged prisoners.

Rémi got proof his cousin was a good story-teller. The blond lad didn’t miss any episode, even though he didn’t dwell on the details. The bench tie, the night at the stake and the clothes peg torture, the walk to the barn and how they left him to be found by Théo and Marc, they were all told by the cheerful blond; his cheeky brother sometimes added a comment, but the whole story made some sense. Théo picked up for the continuation.

Cédric asked about Max, and they explained how they’d fooled Rémi into believing he’d been folded on two and bound to his beam for hours when the blond brothers had left him this way not even five minutes before they arrived with Rémi in tow.

Marc helped out, telling of how the two boys had spent the night in the wardrobe, in nappies and having guzzled down a good dose of the –thankfully– mild laxative. This got many laughs from Hervé and Cédric, who turned to Rémi to taunt him.

“We’ll have to get some potty training for you, baby boy,” Cédric told his bespectacled prisoner, “I’m sure your fellow-students could do with some refresh course in this particular learning area.”

Marc and Théo ended their tale and gave a detailed account of wrapping Max’s and Rémi’s cock in silk and binding them with rubber bands, and how this had gotten them to come for the umpteenth time.

“They did, then,” Hervé sniggered, “It’s not like my brother or his friends did any better. It makes me think we should get them under control again.”

The tormentors all seemed to understand what this implied. They jumped to their feet, and they all picked their target, bringing the familiar control implements. The captives didn’t have to wait long to find out what was about to happen; the sight of the translucent plastic devices informed them of the restriction to come.

There was some fumbling and kneading to get the five cocks in their shells, all of them being inflated to some extent. Hard work pays; five ‘clicks’ resounded over a 22-second span, which meant that decency was back and well enforced. They got the plastic cages and their content back inside the briefs and shorts. After all the milking and wanking, Rémi had a hard time taking in that the chastity ordeal resumed.

“At least we’re sure there won’t be any leaking this time,” Marc rejoiced.

“Don’t be so sure,” Cédric said, “Our little fiends manage to squirt some juice over their undies even when they’re protected with their chastity cages!”

The group of boys, who could easily pass for a football team gathered for their pow-wow again; the sight of the boys’ shorted bums sitting over the grass caused some emotion in the bound boys’ loins; they made small gasps of discomfort when they realized that such a visual stimulus was back to being a torture method.

“Greg has managed to get a wet spot in his undies already,” Cédric said, “The cage should save him from breaking the rules further, hopefully.”

“And from getting more punishments,” Hervé added, “Our lads didn’t fare much better than Max and Rémi over the weekend. We’d planned some tests to see if they may avoid leaking and spurting their juice when their plastic protections are off, but they failed all trials.”

“I knew they’d have trouble handling the first game we’d thought of,” Cédric continued, “since they’d all worn the cages for at least a week. Their boners twitched when we removed them, so I thought they’d fail the first test. . It was more surprising that the other ones we ran got them to fail every single time.”

The two siblings then shared the floor to tell of the misadventures their charges had gone through. They’d started on Friday evening, having Grégory in charge of binding their older brother and Nicolas.

“He did a good job, I must say,” Hervé said, turning to the blond heartthrob who was now stuck against his tree, “And we’re glad he may give us a hand with Philippe, because it’s quite a job having to handle him all the time.”

“Our big brother doesn’t bother us once he’s trussed up to his chair or hogtied on the bed,” Cédric added.

He told how the three friends had been forced to stand in a line, with Philippe in front, Grégory second and Nicolas last. Grégory and Nicolas embraced the boy in front of them; Philippe’s hands were cuffed and linked to the blond boy’s. The chain gang was made to take a walk across the ground floor.

“It was great watching them squirm more and more as we had them do laps around the house. We didn’t say anything, but Phil directed Greg’s hands towards his crotch, and the little blighter obliged and fondled our naughty charge.”

“Nicolas wiggled his bum,” Hervé said, “and he kept close to Greg. He got some kick out of rubbing against our little blond model. His hands moved up and down, so it was clear he was also stroking his boner.”

“After three laps, we cuffed their hands behind their backs again.”

“Lo and behold,” Cédric said in a dramatic voice, “We couldn’t miss that they’d all leaked boy juice. There were dark spots in front of all three pairs of shorts. Hervé had planned for such an outcome, so we got it going.”

“We had to act,” the younger boy said in his serious and concerned tone, “I especially wanted to find out if having their cocks caged made them hornier.”

“I’d say it does,” Aurélien sniggered.

“I supposed so,” Hervé said, “but our biology teacher told us you shouldn’t make assumptions and rather see for yourself. Experimenting is the foundation of the scientific method. So we tested repeated stimulations…”

“You wanked them?” Théo asked.

“Not exactly. I wanted to see if we could exhaust them and get their lust down. I thought some milking would do the trick.”

“They proved tougher than planned,” Cédric said in a mournful tone.

The two siblings went on explaining the various experiments they’d performed. The captive trio had fallen for every trick they’d played, relishing the sexual stimulation and having, from the captors’ tales, no qualm about creaming their underwear or shorts.

“We got them through the motions,” Cédric explained, “We thought of many games and trials that really kept them horny the whole time.”

“It’s just like Rémi,” Thomas exclaimed.

“Or Max,” Marc added.

“If the five of them misbehaved, then we may punish them all together. Let’s leave them here to stew for a while; I’d rather discuss what we will do next without them hearing us. All that matters is that if they can’t escape for the half hour we take getting back to the house to talk, they will have to commit to even longer periods of detention. This should be enough of an incentive to have them put our bonds to the test.”

The 6-boy captor team stepped away from the clearing. Rémi watched his friends. They exchanged glances, and muffled grunts of support. Being picked on by Hervé and his goons had built some strong bonds between his victims.

The day was still young, and there was much time to endure the discipline the younger boys intended to exert on them. They went on talking in their gags, comforting each other and gathering strength for the trials to come.

They all squirmed and writhed, loosening the loops of rope, but never enough to get their limbs free. Beads of sweat glistened over their foreheads as they made their efforts, but the number and lay-out of ropes was the work of thorough little devils who had planned to have them fail. There would be even more time at their hands in the summer, Rémi thought. This was somewhat scary, but it also made him realize quite bluntly that his penis was encased in its plastic prison once again.

End of episode.


Next week, new entry in the saga: Sweaty Tie-Up: Back to School, where we find out what is happening to Rémi's friends while he has to undergo his Naughty Siblings ordeal. Stay tuned for more smutty discipline with lots of gags!

[Bondwriter]

What was taking place at Hervé's while Rémi was undergoing his ordeal at the hands of his cousins and their friends? Find out in...

Sweaty Tie-Up: Back to School

1. Homecoming

Philippe walked at a brisk pace, savouring the moment and looking forward to being home. The week was over, school was six days away from being out and he came back bringing an excellent final report card home. The wind was warm, he felt much lighter. He knew Grégory and Nicolas would be there over the weekend. This made him eager to be home and get ready for their arrival. He also had duties set by his younger brothers. He was required to be home by half past five to fix tea.

Philippe didn’t dawdle. He wanted to be home on time. He hadn’t had time to change outfit after the two final hours spent in PE class. They’d done gymnastics, but his uniform for any physical activity consisted in his black, gleaming football shorts, whatever activity the teacher had them perform. None of his peers had ever expressed any concern.

Philippe had benefitted from a coincidence. The teacher’s activity schedule didn’t collide with the ever-increasing domination his younger brothers exerted on him, much to the contrary. There had been swimming lessons right when Hervé had decided to shave Philippe’s legs a few months previous, which had been a perfectly good reason to shave the black hair covering his calves and the two distinct black triangles coming from his loins.

The wind running over his bare, hairless legs made Philippe feel great too. There was one small issue, but one he hoped would soon be solved: his penis was kept within the tight confines of the plastic chastity device his brothers had put him in ten days before. Not being able to get hard didn’t prevent any rush of hormones, though. Philippe had woken up suddenly a few times in the middle of the night, right in the middle of a wet dream, realizing that he wouldn’t be able to appease the monster his libido brought to life. He’d pulled over the padlock, trying to remove the thing, but it didn’t budge. Without the key Hervé kept, he couldn’t.

His brothers had informed him that they would set him free from the fiendish cock cage during the gathering they’d planned with Nicolas and Grégory. The brown-haired cutie and the blond heartthrob were undergoing the same treatment as he did, and no doubt they would lose no time in joining them, because his little brother was also the master of their genitals, being the only person who held a key to crack the little shells open.

Philippe walked the path leading to their house and prepared his key to open the door. He slid it inside the barrel, to realize it was unlocked already. He wasn’t the first one to make it home.

He stepped into the kitchen to find Hervé helping himself to a toast over which he was laying chocolate spread.

“You were supposed to be home four minutes ago, Phil,” he said in his cute, childlike voice. The glance he threw at Philippe bore the real meaning of these innocuous words. Hervé had left the sentence incomplete, but his brother could mentally hear the one coming next: “To fix my toast before I walk in.” It was almost impossible to respect the tight schedule and constraints he was under at all times. But he was the first to come home ninety-nine percent of the time, and his short delays usually went unnoticed.

“I’ve got my report card,” Philippe said, trying to change the subject. His tone was the same as the one he’d have used to talk to his parents.

“Let’s have a look, then…”

Philippe handed the piece of paper in its slick laminated plastic binder. The younger boy opened it and looked at the teachers’ assessments made of his fifteen-year old brother. His features didn’t betray any specific emotion.

“Not bad. You may go upstairs and change.”

“Not bad? Are you kidding? I’m first in maths and I have the second total average!”

“I said ‘not bad’, take it as a praise. Yet, I had to fix my toast, which you’ve managed to handle for me over the last six weeks without screwing up once. And you fail on the day your friends come for a sleepover? I’d have sent you to get changed without taking any disciplinary measure, but I don’t like your tone… Position number four.”

Philippe knew his positions by heart; he’d practiced them on his own, to avoid getting his penalty tally up for stupid reasons. He spread his legs open wide and locked hands behind his head. He thought his little brother would be kind enough to give him a short break and wait until Grégory and Nicolas would be there to start the festivities. Once one of his brothers stated a position, Philippe had to adopt not only the adequate posture but the silence and obedience rules as well.

Hervé picked a little plastic bag from a broom closet. There were other emergency kits concealed in a few rooms, and the kitchen’s closet was big enough that his bag with scarves and a roll of tape would never be deemed suspect by their parents.

“I thought I’d be able to be nice, but you rebuke me and you reply in a very inappropriate tone. Position number seven.”

Hervé impersonated an older teacher or a stern father, and this had its effect on Philippe. He really felt younger than Hervé, the strict older brother who saw to it that he didn’t get in trouble. It wouldn’t make sense he would be taller than the baby brother he was talking to. Philippe got down on his knees, hands crossed behind his back in no time.

“I’ll be kind in my own way. I’ll make sure you don’t get into more trouble opening this big claptrap of yours.”

Hervé had kicked off his shoes and he peeled of his socks one by one, in front of his brother who knew better than saying something demeaning about the strong fumes the removal of the shoes let out in the room.

Hervé had travelled most of his path through puberty, and the taste of his feet no longer was this of a little boy’s. Philippe opened his mouth wide to take the rolled ball of footwear in when it approached his mouth. Hervé pushed it softly; he knew Philippe would wait until his next order. Once he was satisfied he had properly lodged the ball of fabric, he made a soft click with his tongue. The kneeling boy interpreted it correctly. He closed his mouth over his smelly little brother’s worn socks.

“Good lad! Let me tape it up.”

Philippe remained perfectly still, his hands obediently kept together at the small of his back, which he kept straight. His nose was at his brother’s chest level. He could see the nimble fingers unpeeling the end of the roll and pull a first piece. He crossed six pieces that overlapped and formed a shell encasing his brother’s lower face. He finished with two turns around his head.

Hervé was meticulous when it came to laying down tape, and he pulled and tightened these final loops closely so they’d tidy the whole thing, preventing Philippe from lifting his head too much.

“Position number five.”

This was the same, but standing.

“Let’s keep it elegant,” Hervé said. He waved a silk scarf in front of his brother’s head and took a few steps to stand behind him.

Philippe let him bind the scarf, with the slow and gradual tightening Hervé favoured. This was the moment when Philippe was at peak frustration from his encased genitals. He felt overwhelmed by the fat gag, and the quick binding of his wrists that ensued. With just a few turns of white cotton rope, his hands were totally immobilized just above his bottom.

“This will be all for now. I told you to go to your room and I haven’t changed my mind on this, but I’ll come with you. I’m going to make sure you wait for your mates in some punishing tie-up, to reward you for complaining and calling me names!”

Philippe wondered how he’d insulted the little domestic dictator by stressing he’d gotten a good report card.

“Mmmrmmgrmmph!?!!”

Hervé relished gagging his older brother to make his protests undecipherable, which allowed him to interpret them just like he wanted.

“You know perfectly well what you said, and don’t think it makes me happy. Now, don’t make it harder on yourself and get going.”

The smack delivered over his right buttock triggered motion. Philippe undertook the journey from the kitchen to his bedroom, with his little brother acting as chaperone and tutor.

“Don’t dawdle,” Hervé said, “There are tons of things in store for you, but you’re already changing my plans with your disobedience.”

Philippe entered his bedroom. For the last six months, this had been a model of cleanliness and order. This was the perfect bedroom of an organized and tidy boy. The bed was made, no dirty clothes were scattered throughout. Not the bedroom of a normal teenage boy, some expert psychologists would rightly assess; but Philippe was far from normal.

“Lie down on your belly.”

Philippe complied while his brother went to the chest of drawers and opened the bottom one, from which he pulled no less than six long pieces of rope, all neatly coiled and ready to be put to good use.

“You know we like to test you, Phil, so it’s only fair that we also get tested a bit. I like a good challenge, and I’ll make one to myself. If you manage to escape from the hogtie I’m about to put you in, you get to decide of a penalty for me. What do you think; Phil?”

The grunt in reply conveyed negative feelings, but Hervé had decided to ignore them.

“If you agree, let’s get down to it, then.”

Philippe knew how good his brother was at this sort of exercise. The ‘innocent little boy’ had a plan, one gained from hundreds of times restraining his older relative in ropes, knowing the traps of a poorly thought loop or of a crucial knot within reach of the prisoner’s fingers. He wouldn’t make a wager if he wasn’t one hundred percent sure he would win.

Hervé worked slowly, starting with the elbows before moving to untying the wrists, which he set palm to palm. He then wrapped them in more turns of white rope, the two ends of which he used to wrap a belt around Philippe’s waist, before he cinched the turns between his wrists and knotted the two extremities around the rope keeping his elbows together, far from his prying fingers. The bound boy’s digits rested over his shorted butt crack, but there was no knot within reach so far.

The boy then pulled his brother’s ankles towards his butt and welded his lower legs and thighs with white cord keeping them inexorably bundled together. This took two pieces but his legs were soon a neat package, making crawling the only possible move.

Even this was made more difficult once Hervé had used another piece running over his chest and under his armpits, with the ends threaded between his thighs and pulled taut until he felt more of a pretzel.

However, this wasn’t enough. Hervé had some trouble performing the first part of his feat with a long and rather thick piece of cord, but he wouldn’t accept failure. He had to start over twice, but in the end he succeeded in weaving an adequate head harness, with two long ends left dangling when he considered this initial weaving tight enough. He threaded them between the ropes at his knees too, and this time Philippe had his head pulled back behind.

“This will make it much more difficult for you to move, I guess. Now you’re out of my hair for preparing to welcome our guests. They’ll be here soon, and if they behave better than you, we’ll start by dressing them up. This may take some time. Don’t give up struggling, who knows? You might be lucky.”

Hervé jumped to his feet and dashed off. Philippe squirmed within his limited possibilities to test his bonds. He tried to spot a loose turn or an improper knot but there was no obvious weakness in Hervé’s binding job.

TBC

[Bondwriter]

Sweaty Tie-Up: Back to School

2. Welcoming their Friends

The chastity device ruined some of the tremendous effect this strenuous position had on the young escape artists wannabe. Without the device, Philippe would be exploring the effects of his shorts’ fabric rubbing against the plush carpeting. The cage made this pastime impossible.

Philippe did try escaping; this kept him busy, as he knew that with time, rope loosened. If he sweated and became slick because of it, this could help too. He was at it when the doorbell rung downstairs the first time. There couldn’t have been more than fifteen minutes when the doorbell rang for the second time.

They were busy downstairs but in no hurry to check on him. He knew that in such predicaments, it was difficult to assess the time, but it felt like it took them hours to ‘welcome’ Nicolas and Grégory. Minutes went by and the strain started taking its toll. The tension was nothing to handle at first, but it was gradually becoming unpleasant. More minutes went by; he could vaguely discern his brothers’ voices coming from downstairs. He grew impatient, wondering when the rope work would end up causing pain or cramps.

He eventually heard steps in the staircase; there were several people coming up. He couldn’t help but beg, hoping this would make his captor hurry and loosen the now painful tension.

All his squirming left him facing the door and he caught sight of his two friends who led the procession. They wore their British schoolboy uniforms. Hervé and Cédric had done a good job restraining and muzzling them with some of the gang’s refined accessories.

The body harnesses and the reins enhanced their sexy shapes but also offered the captors some sound method to control their pupils’ moves.

“Here you are, boys, this is your friend’s Philippe’s room. He’s been a bit naughty when he came home so I had to punish him. It’s called a hogtie, have you ever tried one out? No? We’ll have to do something about it then, won’t we?”

Of course they had, and Hervé knew it well, since he’d been the one introducing them to the art of tie-up. They were used to rhetorical questions. They mumbled some gagged acquiescence; they couldn’t upset Hervé.

The unctuous and fatherly tone his youngest sibling adopted annoyed Philippe. Relief came to the trussed up older brother; Cédric kneeled to his side. His brother’s move to release him from the head harness made him forget all about the annoying things Hervé was saying.

“If you lads have a sleepover, we’d better lay out the rules for you. You will not make too much noise and you won’t break things. The best way to make sure you comply, you may have noticed, is the technique we’ve adopted. Having you restrained in harnesses and made quiet with a muzzle mean we don’t have to crack down on unruly behaviour. It requires us to take constant care of you though.”

“Not this constant, Herv, You’ve left Philippe on his own for one hour and a half!” Hervé laughed.

“True, this… But he asked for it, I couldn’t react less strictly.”

Philippe was still left in a bundle, but the arching tension was gone. He could shake and twist.

“Don’t tell me you’re going to rub yourself against the carpet.”

“My brother, the rug shagger,” Cedric added, decidedly in a good mood. “Don’t worry, he’s not been able to achieve anything since we locked him up.”

“Neither have you boys, hey?” Hervé said, turning to his charges. Grégory picked the cue and reacted accordingly, trying to break free from the spell the vision of Philippe trussed up in ropes cast on him.

He politely nodded; at his side, his harnessed schoolmate approved with the same head motion in perfect synchronicity.

“You have, then?”

They both furiously shook their heads in denial.

“That’s what I thought. Our little toys do their job, don’t they? You’ve been longing for Friday evening, as you’ve all spent at least ten days in chastity. I’m sure you’ve been able to focus properly on your final exams.”

Nicolas did remember his last maths test. The topic had not caused him any emotion, at least none that the plastic shell would thwart. He had the best possible view over Rémi sitting two rows in front; all he saw was the pair of buttocks properly lining his flannel pants. Nicolas was at an angle from where he couldn’t miss them. He had to scold himself six times to get back to the test. He’d aced it despite the distraction.

Nicolas had to admit the device had actually helped him with his exams. Every evening when he came back, Nicolas had to skip the wanking session that followed his tea. He rushed straight to studying; it was a good way to forget about his temporary impotency. He even went running after dinner, which his parents found most surprising. They’d witnessed many improvements in his behaviour over the last few months, so any change in his routine no longer worried them.

They most often approved of his new ways to behave. They appreciated the fact that adolescence didn’t turn him in a lazy slob, as some of their friends’ sons. They attributed this positive attitude to the friends he spent most of his time with; they had a very high opinion of Philippe and his siblings. His group of friends had a good influence on him, the three brothers in particular.

The harshest chastity moments for Nicolas were at dawn, when he came out of his dreams, which night after night got more explicit. His various friends featured in these, and his early morning fantasies all ended with Hervé putting a plastic cage over his genitals while he was solidly trussed up to the beam in Aurélien’s attic.

He woke up just afterwards; on that Friday morning, his brain had made the scene so vivid that he could feel the bonds and taste the soiled scarf in his mouth. He could even hear Hervé’s taunts.

“We’d better make sure your little birdie doesn’t spit his juice!”

It was only ten after five, but Nicolas couldn’t indulge in his favourite waking up activity, so he dragged out of bed and fixed himself an early breakfast before he turned to cramming for the final history exam. The afternoon in PE had taken its toll, considering the gymnastics class featured some fine bodies to ogle; Rémi, Philippe and Grégory all had impressive assets. Their shorts were all flatter than usual, and they cast sorry glances at each other.

“Our little problem should be solved this evening,” Grégory said as they headed back to the changing-room. “There’s no reason for Hervé to punish us and keep us in these nasty cages.”

Nicolas lost no time to change to head back home and grab the bag he’d filled with stuff he needed to spend the weekend at Hervé’s. He’d arrived at the brothers’ house spot on time, complying with the instructions Hervé and Cédric gave him. Grégory was already there when he arrived, and he joined them in the living room where Grégory was changing into his little boy school uniform. This was hot, and Nicolas felt his Johnson rebel and try to break his boundaries.

He had to don the same uniform: the grey short and the forest green jacket, with a necktie and a cap, as well as long white sock and black patent leather sandals. This looked dorky, but he’d grown used to it and it sure made his friends look good.

Hervé ordered him to put a harness and cuffs on Grégory, who was then made to return the favour. Hervé and Cédric checked their work and tightened some of the straps. The harnesses featured several D-rings, which could be used as solid anchoring points for his wrists or elbows. The devious siblings reviewed the job their charges had done, tightening some of the straps one more notch. They ended locking the wrist cuffs to the harness over their hips, which forced them to keep their arms folded while leaving their shorted bum in plain view.

Strap gags with inflatable plugs had concluded the dressing-up, completing their subjugation before they could head to Philippe’s room where, Nicolas hoped, their penises would be allowed to expand properly and they would be scolded for leaking or squirting.

Grégory’s earlier comments resounded in Nicolas’ head when he heard Hervé continue his little welcome speech.

“School is almost over, and the three of you passed. Some results still have to come in, but I’m confident you did well and we won’t be disappointed. Speaking of disappointment, Greg and Nico, I’ll say that when you’re asked to perform some restraining task, it needs to be performed with a little more heart in it. You didn’t tighten the straps to the standards we gave you. Added to Phil’s delay, it’s clear none of you deserve to be rewarded with sex. You’ll stay in chastity until tomorrow morning. You’d better behave, because we’ve promised we’d release you over the weekend, but we have until Sunday evening to do so.”

“Mrrgrrmph?” Phil enquired, uninformed of the duration of their captivity.

“Sorry, Phil, we forgot to tell you. There’s no family reunion on Sunday, at least not the one with annoying relatives who comment on how much you’ve been growing up since Christmas. This will be a family moment, though; you’ll be with your two favourite brothers.”

The captive trio knew they’d better obey and give no further cause for punishment to the little sadist. And his sidekick, his taller and older sibling Cédric, who was keen on adding some words of wisdom.

“Aren’t you glad to be babysat by your big brothers, Phil? Kind boys who don’t mind taking care of you and your little friends?”

“Exams are over at the big boys school,” Hervé said, “but we need an assessment before you join our Summer school. This is what this week-end is about. Now you’ve been informed of your punishment, it’s time to have you train and learn a little. We’ve decided to have you spending some time practicing knots on each other. You never had many occasions, except maybe for Greg. As an incentive, if you manage to escape from your binder’s rope work, we’ll set an alarm early tomorrow morning and the little contraption is off straight away.”

“Before you’re granted this privilege, you’d better show us you’ve improved over the weeks,” his brother added, “and I hope to see some good things from you in our escape challenge. Grégory, you’ll start using a Nicolas as a model. You’ll all get a chance at trying your skills on both your friends, which means you’ll also be bound twice. The captive has ten minutes to free himself. To test your skills, nonetheless, you will have only three pieces of rope, so you’d better be smart.”

“And thorough,” his demanding little brother completed.

They unlocked Grégory’s wrists leaving him without restraints. He pointed to the gag.

“Are you kidding?” Hervé replied, sounding surprised, “This stays on, of course. Unless you think you can impress us with some fancy talk to Philippe. You may try your hand at it, but you’d better be good, we’ll video-tape it to make sure we can grade it properly.”

This got Greg to ponder, but not for long. This was a trick. He’d already salivated much and he feared the removal of the gag would cause some spit to drip off, which could add to their collective time in chastity. Any hesitation in his speech delivery or any stuttering would be commented on. Hervé knew how to get a speaker to lose track of what he said. Grégory had found out before he could be easily impressed and destabilized. Resigned, Grégory shook his head to turn down the offer.

“Very well, then,” Cédric picked up, “I’ll unlock Nico and you may be on your way.”

TBC

[Bondwriter]

Sweaty Tie-Up: Back to School

3. Kick-Off

The competition started without any more explanation concerning the rules. Grégory set the trend by assuming that having someone escape was bad. He acted accordingly.

The ropes were few, yet they were long. Grégory had more training in the art of ropes and knots than his friends did. Hervé relished having him over to handle Philippe; this made disciplining their older brother less taxing for the boys. The blond heartthrob had been challenged to do a good job every time he’d been asked to bind his friend, and he could repeat one of his many achievements. He approached his consenting victim, who made an imperceptible grunt to convey trust in his skills.

It was a freestyle competition, and the hogtie seemed the most efficient manner to make sure the cute schoolboy would stay trapped within his bonds. He was able to weave the three lengths so Nicolas’s uniformed body ended up wrapped in ropes. He bound his limbs cruelly together, the ball of his socked feet pressing against his shorted buttocks, his arms tightly bound both at the elbows and at the wrists. The jacket and shirt protected him enough that Grégory felt authorized to pull the ropes on the tight side.

Once he was done, Hervé started the timer for the ten minutes of struggling.

There was moaning and grunting to go along with the genuine efforts the cherubic brown-haired lad made to escape Grégory’s bonds. He rolled from side to side and his fingers fluttered, but he didn’t manage to get out.

Hervé commented the athletic endeavour of his protégé, pointing both to Grégory’s talent and the escape artist’s inadequacy.

“Nico fights with all his strength, but the simple and effective rope work of the talented young rigger Grégory has our lad pinned down to the ground. It would be a tremendous feat to thwart Grégory’s artful knots! Only four minutes left to succeed.”

It turned out time wasn’t on Nicolas’s side. He’d escaped from similar hogties, but it had always taken tens of minutes to loosen the ropes or weaken an important knot and get one limb free, most often weakening the network of ropes imprisoning him in the process. He didn’t have the luxury of a long time left on his own; the two siblings certainly planned that they’d struggle like crazy to win the challenge. This was why they gave them so little time to test the rope work. They usually gave them much longer to see them wriggling like worms, which brought much mirth to the close relatives.

“Time’s up and you failed, Nico!”

“Grégory did an impressive job,” Cédric shared with his friends, “While you’re untied, free Philippe so he may tie you up, He said to his brother’s blond friend.”

The competition went on for almost three hours: it was close to ten when they ended. The competitors tried hogties, ball-ties, chair ties and pole-ties. They’d all grown good enough at knots to keep a boy captive for ten minutes, and they all displayed their best technique.

The promiscuity, the bonds and the rising temperature in the room made the captive trio very aware of the limitations imposed to their peckers. This was all truer when they were on the receiving end of the ropes, when there was no way to focus on the technical matter at hand, and that they had to fully take in the hot and sweaty bodies of the gagged friend binding them and moving around them.

Hervé closed down his notebook. He had jotted down remarks throughout the challenge. This made for short breaks in his relentless comments, worthy of a sports broadcaster commenting on a major game.

“Sorry, Philippe, but Nico did his job well, and the ten minutes are over. So this is another failure. Maybe I should rejoice to see you learn a thing of two from us. At the same time, it scares me a bit to have friends under our roof who’re so good a tying people up.”

“Especially since they’ve rebelled before,” Cédric piped in. There had been an attempt at rebellion at the very beginning indeed. Hervé and Cédric had grown more eager to subdue their brother and his friends. They’d first regained control over Philippe, whose masochistic tendencies were at the origin of their games, and they’d worked on the others one by one. They exploited Grégory’s fondness for their brother to lure him back into tie-up games, and Nicolas and Rémi loved being handled by the two brothers. Eventually Hervé had struck, abducting the four of them at Aurélien’s farm a few months earlier.

They’d been tamed on that weekend, and the boy ran his little club with an iron fist. It took him much time and toil, but he relished overseeing the four boys, one by one or as a group.

“So we’ll have to check you’re restrained as you should be. We’ll have dinner before we go to bed, and I think chains on top of your harnesses will make you perfect butlers, totally unable to protest or do anything we don’t want.”

The two little masters added a harness over Philippe’s footie kit. They got Grégory’s and their older brother’s arms in a reverse prayer position while they tended to Nicolas. They took their time, making a show of fondling the writhing boy, who was utterly frustrated smelling Hervé and Cédric and feeling their touch, and having the ensuing boner crushed inside an all too small space. It had lasted for such a long time.

They stood Nicolas up, his hands still bound. They put leather cuffs on before they removed the rope, proving their deeds matched their words. They took no chance at seeing the bound boy act rebellious.

“We’ll have you share the same position as your friends so they can’t complain of any favouritism.”

They pulled his wrists up behind his back and padlocked the cuffs’ D-rings to the one sewn on the harness between his shoulder blades.

“Now, this is what I call cautionary measures. Should they try to run during the move to the kitchen, they will be easy to catch.”

The captors got their shackled prisoners in a line and they lead them downstairs, paying close attention to their moves – and their wriggling bottoms. Hervé and Cédric’s erections, not too conspicuous under their tracksuit pants, weren’t hampered by any hard plastic shape, and they fully expanded the stretchy swimwear they used as underwear.

The butlers had their arms freed from the arduous position, and their hands were cuffed in front, with a few centimetres of chain allowing for some movement.

“You’ll lead the team, Phil. I want spaghetti, with the tomato sauce and the grated cheese as I’ve shown you before.”

Philippe had developed culinary skills under his little brother’s guidance: he was good at various pasta-based dishes if they involved a can of sauce and grated cheese was available in the fridge.

He pointed to a pan and the sink over which it hung. Grégory understood what he meant. He grabbed the pan and filled it with water. He brought it to the stove and lit up the gas.

Philippe had signed as he could that Nicolas was to set the table; thankfully, the harnessed schoolboy understood his gestures and got to the cupboard where the plates and glasses were, and brought two of each to the table.

He found out this was no easy job. Hervé and Cédric grabbed him and fondled him when he was within reach.

Philippe watched from the corner of his eye, handling the making of the sauce. He pulled the tab on the can, dropped its content in a bowl that he stuck inside the micro-wave. He then fetched the bag of grated cheese that he transferred in another bowl. He was done and watched Nicolas struggling to get his chore done.

They were in no hurry for the water was just starting to boil, so there were another ten minutes before they could eat.

Cédric and Hervé quit harassing Nicolas, retelling the contest that had just been run and commenting on the various performances by the contestants. They were so enraptured in their stories that they almost didn’t notice when their butlers filled their plates fifteen minutes later.

“It was hilarious when Nico bound Phil and he had trouble remembering how to do a clove-hitch!”

They were lost in their field of expertise, and Philippe felt proud of his brothers’ achievements. He’d led them to a hobby that sure allowed them to acquire skill of all kinds. And leadership was one of them.

Once they’d finished their plates, Cédric and Hervé had the butlers sit at the table. One by one, they removed their gags and fed them quickly, with the handgag while they chewed. Philippe got the most benefit from the break: Cédric used a strap gag with a moderate plug when he decided his meal was over. This was a relief after four or five hours gagged with the pair of smelly socks.

“It’s almost midnight,” Hervé eventually found out, casting a glance at the clock, “We’d better move on and get you lads to sleep, you’ll have a long day tomorrow.

This was almost a routine by now, and with very few words and a minimum of gestures, Hervé monitored the ensuing cleaning up and the trip to the bathroom before he led the trio in a file, their hands cuffed behind their back now they no longer needed them for hygiene purposes.

The group entered Philippe bedroom.

“We said we’d take you to sleep, we didn’t say it would be in a bed,” Cédric said.

He picked the large quilt from the bed and laid it over the carpet.

“Get down on your belly first,” Hervé said, grabbing his brother’s shoulder and leading him just where he wanted him. He helped him to his knees and had him lie down over his stomach.

“Spread your legs open. Doesn’t Philippe have a nice bum?” Hervé asked, pointing to the two round and muscular globed pushing the black material’s boundaries.

“Your turn, Nico.”

Hervé and Cédric grabbed him and got him down on his knees, his knees on a line with Philippe’s. Nicolas knew straight away Philippe’s shorted arse was to be his pillow for the night.

“Lie down and rest over our big brother’s bum. I’m not sure you like it, and there’s no obvious way to check before we remove your chastity devices, but you have no choice anyway.”

“Phil has round buttocks, this should make for a nice pillow!”

Nicolas’s shoulders touched Philippe’s knees.

“Spread your legs, lad,” Hervé commanded, “Make room for Greg!”

Grégory had to adopt the same position as his friend just in front. He got to his knees. Cédric helped him to lie down. Talking of round buttocks, he didn’t fare too poorly. Nicolas’s rump was very appetizing too. Grégory set his gagged face over the posterior, which was soft and welcoming. He turned his head around. His cheek rubbed against Nicolas’s plump ones through the gag, shorts and silk briefs. He could sleep like this.

“This is a first, lad, though we’ve done similar things with Greg and Phil, haven’t we?”

The pupils in question softly approved with a grunt. Hervé and Cédric crouched at their brother’s sides, with short bits of chains and padlocks. They added large cuffs around his thighs, right above his knees. They featured rings that allowed linking Nicolas’s harness to the cuffs, forcing him to keep his head close to Philippe’s derriere.

They did the same with Nicolas’s legs and Grégory’s shoulders. They then linked Philippe’s and Nicolas’s ankles to Nicolas’s and Grégory’s waists.

“It’s unfair Grégory can move his legs, I’ll get the broom handle.”

Cédric was referring to the homemade spreader bar they’d built by nailing rings three feet apart. It did the job and this kept the victim’s legs open.

With their restraining task over, they stood to have a look. Cédric picked the video camera to record their new feat. Hervé didn’t mind commenting the scene for posterity.

TBC

[Bondwriter]

Sweaty Tie-Up: Back to School

4. A Well-Organized Gang

“Our three naughty little pupils have all failed at the tasks we gave them, so now they have to sleep together and learn to enjoy each other’s company.”

The three boys lying between each other’s legs writhed slightly and emitted a few grunts when they heard their situation mentioned. Two of them could count on fluffy bottoms to make their heads comfortable. The cuffs, harnesses, chains and locks combo and the spreader bar holding Grégory’s legs were an impressive display. The three bodies were solidarized, and they couldn’t get away from their friends.

“You might be a bit disappointed, Phil,” Cédric patronized, “to have a regular pillow to lay your head on.”

His brother slid a small cushion under his head.

“This wouldn’t be a punishment if you had another boy’s bum to rest on!”

“This makes it very mild, Ced. I wonder, haven’t you been wearing the same pair of socks since Tuesday?”

Philippe couldn’t see it, but he could almost hear the evil grin spreading over Cédric’s face.

“That’s right, I almost forgot. This should make the night more interesting for Phil. Thinking of which, maybe we shouldn’t have cleaned up our boys as well as we did, it would have been more entertaining for Greg and Nico.”

“Shouldn’t they be grateful? That’s how kind we are, we save them from the curse of the stinky butt!”

Nicolas and Grégory didn’t utter a sound, but they agreed nonetheless. They both inhaled deeply to be sure that the bum they’d spend the night on smelled mostly of soap.

“Just as you dislike it, Phil,” Cédric joked. He spread his socks over the gag’s rubber, adjusting them so their toes would rest over his victim’s nostrils. Philippe repressed the grunt the pestilence called for. A strip of tape aptly plastered promised to keep them all night long.

“I’ll say they’re all set for the night. Let’s cover them up and we can hop into bed.”

They got blankets from Philippe’s large wardrobe, folding them so Grégory and Nicolas had their heads uncovered. The thick woollen fabric would keep them warm, trap their body heat and share it. They could feel the warmth almost immediately.

Hervé and Cédric jumped into their older brother’s large bed as announced. They switched the ceiling light off, leaving just the faint light of the night table lamp. Their prisoners couldn’t see them, but they heard them undress, before they saw the tracksuits jackets and pants fly through the room.

The boys whispered, with muffled bursts of laughter. Their prisoners paid attention to find out whether they were the topic of the conversation. The lads spoke in hushed voices, and their words couldn’t be heard distinctly enough to find out what devious plan they had in mind for the following days.

The three boys lying over the quilt relaxed and adjusted their positions so the three of them would be as comfortable as possible.

When Hervé switched the light off, his three pupils drifted into sleep within minutes of each other. The two young tormentors were equally tired and they fell asleep fast too.

Our bound trio could sleep indeed, but these weren’t the best conditions to do so. The following six hours felt quite weird to the three of them, with sudden awakenings when they realized the predicament they were in. The bonds, the bottoms or the stinky socks all made for a very different night.

Of course, the fiendish chastity devices made the situation even weirder.

Philippe had a wild dream in which it was Grégory keeping him prisoner at a torture pole, and he had his friend’s socks over his nose. Nicolas dreamed of being in Hervé’s claws. The young boy got busy with his bum, spanking it lightly before plugging him up. Grégory, strangely, dreamed of Nicolas and Rémi, whom Hervé forced him to mishandle and abuse.

No alarm clock had been set to release them from the cruel ordeal, yet Cédric and Hervé leaped out of bed much not long after sunrise, which was very early in this season. This marked the end of an agitated night; the captive pupils had grown very aware of each other, while diving in the depths of their fantasy world.

“Get up, lads,” Cédric yelled, switching the bright light on, “There are more tests to run and this will get you closer to release from the little plastic toys that keep your cocks in check.”

The three bound boys stirred under the blankets, which Hervé promptly pulled off.

“I’m sure you had a good night. You didn’t chat or behave rudely; we’ll give you credit for this. There are just a couple tests to take and we’ll reward you as we said. Greg, you’ll be head of staff today. You’ll take your friends to the bathroom and dress them up. We’ll help you, don’t worry, we can’t let you without assistance. This wouldn’t be very responsible from us.”

Hervé droned on and on; Cédric released the spreader bar and started removing the padlocks holding the boys together. Grégory stretched but Hervé didn’t leave him much leisurely time. He kneeled at his sides and grabbed him under the armpits.

“I’m sure you will be a great butler in chief. And a skilled nurse too. And a clothing store assistant. That’s right, we’re very demanding but think of all the learning opportunities we offer you. Your friend Philippe has benefited from much training, and he can do most household chores while restrained.”

Hervé fiddled with chains and locks, arranging Grégory’s fetters for the move downstairs. Cédric had released his two charges’ chains, with just his wrists locked to the harness at the small of his back. He didn’t say much, his little brother making the conversation for the five of them.

“This morning, you’ll run breakfast from beginning to end. I hope you remember the previous lessons and you won’t make any beginner’s mistakes. You know what’s at stake. You lads are all ready, aren’t they, Ced? We may get moving.”

The prisoners’ restraints were limited to the harness –which was also used to restrain their hands– and their simple but very effective strap gags. Once they reached the bottom of the staircase, Hervé excused himself and dashed to the bathroom.

“Watch them, Ced,”he said. He didn’t expand on what he needed to do in the sanitary environment. Commenting on his pupils’ excretory activities was common but his own bodily functions were best left undiscussed..

Greg looked at Philippe. Cédric released their hands with another ‘no funny stuff warning’, cuffing their wrists in front. The two friends exchanged glances and nods. Philippe wouldn’t let his friend down. Nicolas recovered slowly from his tumultuous night.

The three boys communicated to split the work with looks and head motions; it took thirty seconds before they could start their chores. This went smoothly; Hervé was back and Cédric took his turn at the bathroom, letting the young master admire the work of his pupils. He had the full use of his mouth and vocal cords, which he exploited fully.

“You’ve managed to share the tasks like pros so far. Nicolas is taking care of the hot chocolate, Philippe is toasting bread and Greg sets the table. A real team, these boys. I’m sure you guys conspire when you’re at school, and you plan for such moments.”

Nicolas nodded, more to please the young sadist than to acknowledge the many times they’d actually discussed among themselves how they could win Hervé’s challenges, which always involved them being rather severely gagged, and for which communication couldn’t be done through vocal exchanges. They had worked out a few signals, which had just turned very handy.

Cédric was back soon. The routine unfolded flawlessly. The chocolate was hot enough, the toasts were perfectly buttered. Soon, Cédric and Hervé were full.

“Good job, you’ll even get some, and your bathroom privileges aren’t revoked.”

The ceremonious tone warned of more instructions.

“Greg, you’ll feed your friends just as we taught you, and if everything works fine, Nicolas will feed you. He needs to try his hand at feeding a bound pupil.”

Grégory faced his friends; Cédric stood to unlock their wrists chains and cuff their hands behind their backs. He let Greg help them to sit.

This also went smoothly. Nicolas reviewed how the job had to be done. He didn’t expect too many explanations from his young captors, who weren’t well versed in repeating themselves. At least when it came to make the rules explicit or well understood. It was much easier to get them at fault this way.

The cherubic brown-haired cutie did well when it was his turn. He relished the handgag he imposed over Grégory’s mouth while his blond friend chewed his bread. His wrists went back behind his back four minutes later, while Grégory had the strap gag put and fastened back on. The plug filled his oral cavity fully. Nicolas realized the more games they played, the better the equipment they used. These gags could be worn for hours without causing any major pain. Yet no understandable words could be voiced. The familiar ‘click’ let him know he depended on others for about everything, including the satisfaction of certain physiological needs that started being a bit pressing.

The bathroom break was collective this time, with the two guards watching and monitoring Grégory’s handling of his two restrained charges.

It took an hour, but they were clean inside out. Hervé had discreetly pointed to the enema bulb he’s set over the tablet. The powerful fan sucked the air up full force, making the moment not too unbearable. The nasty smells were soon replaced by those of the manly shower gel the boys used to wash each other.

They even had their gags removed one by one so they could brush their teeth.

“We want well-groomed boys, worthy of the uniform they’re going to wear,” Hervé stated pompously. He excelled at the task, and Nicolas benefitted from his experience-based skills. Hervé’s wrist moved supply and expertly. His charge stayed still, his mouth wide open, his head tilting slightly forward.

“It should be clean now, go ahead and spit it out, Nico!”

He rinsed the boy’s mouth and cleaned the gag’s rubber plug; the pupil wasn’t to stay with an empty mouth for long. Hervé presented the muzzle’s attachment to his lips. Nicolas parted them and let the pear-shaped filling extension invade his full mouth. The younger boy tightened the strap and buckled it shut. He even put the small padlock on, which Nicolas heard from the small metallic sound.

“Let’s dress you in outfits that will befit this morning’s schedule. It’s not all classroom activities, so a pair of shorts and a jersey should be enough. Sneakers and socks also, of course.”

The group kept busy grooming their prisoners until they’d all been scrubbed thoroughly, dressed up and shorn. The outfits were new. They were another ‘gift’ from who knew whom. The shorts and underwear had been designed and cut to wrap them closely. The space in front allowed for the expansion of their genitals. Their three-piece suits couldn’t use this feature, though, considering their cages kept them to their minimum sizes.

They were made in some synthetic fabric, dark blue for Nicolas, dark grey for the blond guest and deep black for the kidnapped older brother.

“You may thank our benefactors for the beautiful costumes they provided you with,” Cédric said, eye in the viewfinder, filming the result of their care and efforts. “You boys are worth the tailor-made suits,” he sneered while focusing on Nicolas and Grégory’s curvy shapes.

“They look cute, but are they well-trained little helpers? We have to check,” Hervé said, “What better way than having them clean our rooms? I’m sure we’ll score points with mom if she comes back on Sunday to find a tidy and spotless home, especially our bedrooms.”

“It would be bad if it wasn’t impeccable. She’s become used to Philippe’s great job, and we get praises for our well-kept rooms. It’s been a few days since he’s last done it, it will be a good test. Nico and Greg, you’ll be up!”

Cédric finished collaring the three older teens, linking their collars with a foot of chain so they’d keep in a neat file.

“Let’s get going, lads. We’ll give you some slack when we get to your work place.”

They followed the black-haired brother who acted as the shepherd of the flock. They climbed upstairs and their first stop was Cédric’s room. It was a mess: clothes and papers were strewn over the carpet, the bed wasn’t made and it hadn’t been vented for a while, as the smell was rather musky.

“Nico will change my bed, Greg will clear up the floor and tidy stuff. Phil will run the hoover. Is this simple enough for your little brains?”

TBC

[Bondwriter]

Sweaty Tie-Up: Back to School

5. An Active Morning

The three silenced boys had to take it without retorting. The power the two younger teens exerted over them was complete. They let Cédric and Hervé loosen their bonds, bringing their hands to the front while keeping them cuffed properly.

Their mothers had taught the three young men properly. They knew how to perform chores. The trio got busy right away. They couldn’t comment on Cédric’s tidiness, yet Nicolas and Grégory couldn’t help but notice that he was a typical teenage boy. He had no taste for regular cleaning. Dirty clothes lied across the carpeted floor.

“Wondering about my socks, Greg? Or my undies? Get a whiff if you want to be sure they need to be put in the hamper.”

“Nice we have him wearing the little plastic cage; you know Greg gets huge boners from smelling your dirty laundry…”

Cédric pointed to the socks.

“I’ll be nice. You may enjoy the quality perfume…”

He picked one up and stuck it over Grégory’s gag, binding it over the boy’s lower face with a piece of twine.

“It’ll keep you entertained.”

“And motivated! We wouldn’t want our charges to screw up their cleaning tasks,” his little brother added.

The three lads went on changing sheets, tidying and hoovering until the bedroom looked like a furniture catalogue.

“Time to move on, though my room isn’t as messy as Ced’s,” Hervé stated, having assessed the cleanliness they’d achieved.

They repeated their routine in the next room. Hervé was cleaner, but there were books and toys lying across the room. The lad grabbed a riding crop that lied over his desk and whipped the air with it, looking at his charges with a threatening look.

This got the desired effect; the cleaning trio focused on the task at hand and they did even better, as if they’d warmed up and improved with the task. In fifteen minutes, the bedroom was spotless.

“They’re quite good. It leaves some time so they can take care of Philippe’s bedroom also.”

They moved across the hall. Philippe’s room didn’t require much work. There was a pair of Speedos and socks next to the bed, which was made. This was the only mess they could find so the cleaning was performed in no time.

“Glad to see you struggle to satisfy us. No mistake so far. You’re on your way to get your rewards. You’ve proved you were good at household shores; we’re going to test your wits next.”

Cédric acted on his brother’s words. He chained the gang together for a longer move. They headed downstairs. Hervé had arranged the dining room so it could be used as a classroom. There were notebooks and pens on the large table.

Once they had their necks freed, the three captives had to sit at the table. The two little schoolmasters fastened the straps meant to keep them pinned to their seats at ankles, knees waist and chest. Their wrists were cuffed in front of them.

“Let’s spruce up their gags,” Hervé suggested, “They work to keep our charges quiet, but they may look even better.”

There were three silk scarves of various dark colours for this endeavour. Hervé managed to bind two of them, over Nicolas and Grégory’s lower faces. Cédric took his time so it would wrap the underlying plug gag perfectly. He was a stickler to enforce speech deprivation on his older brother.

A good lesson was on the agenda. Hervé had played the enthusiastic schoolteacher before; this act suited him and he could get into it instantly.

“We’re thinking of rewarding you for your good behaviour. There’s just one final little test you need to take.”

“Watch out for your spelling!”

“Right, Cédric, this will be important, but it’s not the only thing we’ll assess. Let me give them the assignment: You’ll write a one-page story about one of your friends and what you’d do to him if you were in charge and you had him bound and gagged.”

This was basic enough and it got the ‘pupils’ thinking. Philippe started scribbling over his notepad first. Grégory and Nicolas followed, prompted by their friend’s action.

“You all have ideas. Good. Make it smutty, we know you’re a bunch of pervs so you can’t be shy about it. We’ll give you one hour.”

The writers traded looks, encouraging each other. It felt weird having to imagine and lay down on paper some episode involving a friend for Cédric and Hervé’s benefit. Yet the frustration caused by the chastity devices had their imagination flowing freely and they all let the words come out of their pens.

Hervé left the room, coming back showered and wearing clean clothes. His tracksuit was tight but made him look elegant; having his legs covered made him look older than his charges. He picked up the watch and Cédric could go wash and dress too.

Hervé left the boys alone and he started playing with his hand-held videogame console, satisfied to hear the sound of pen on paper that went on.

Cédric came back in his usual football outfit. Grégory caught a glance, which tempted him into ogling the developing teen’s assets; a tongue click and Cédric pointing to the sheet of paper brought him back to his description of a spread-eagled Philippe, and the handling of his turgid cock that he undertook once he’d immobilized his victim.

His friend’s brother held a stack of comic books. He sat next to his other sibling without a word and started reading.

The whole gang went on doing their thing with no word being spoken. Eventually, Hervé looked up from his beeping device and looked at the clock.

“Time’s almost up, pupils. I’m going to pick up the papers soon.”

The students had grown feverish making up sexual situations in their minds. Hervé was behind them and picked up their papers. Cédric then cuffed the boy’s wrists behind their back.

They then sat down to peek at the tales their captives had written. They whispered and pointed to specific lines, chuckling. This wasn’t necessarily a good sign for the creative writers.

After five minutes of assessing the captives’ homework, the two brothers stood up and went back to the end of the table where their charges awaited the verdict.

“You lads are imaginative. It would be a shame you don’t share these excellent stories with the group.”

Hervé laid down Nicolas’ paper in front of him.

“You should start, Nico. Read us your story.”

“Mmmrgh?”

“Don’t play daft. There’s nothing preventing you from reading your work. There might be the small issue of you being gagged, but we’re resourceful. I’ll be your interpreter. Go one sentence at a time.”

Nicolas remembered similar ordeals in the previous months. He knew what he had to do.

“Mmmmrgphrghmrmmmbll.”

“I invited Grégory and Philippe for a sleepover….”

It wasn’t the quickest way to inform his real life counterparts of Nicolas’s salacious ideas involving their bodies. Yet, with Hervé repeating the sentences his pupil read, they heard of the bet he challenged them to, his winning, the binding of the pair in a sixty-nine and the oral sex they had to perform on each other before he hinted at untying them so they could reciprocate the favour.

“I like Nico’s story,” Cédric commented when his brother ended playing the interpreter, “Gagging them with each other’s cock is a nice touch. It makes me horny. Should Philippe read his story next? I may help him out just like you did. I’m sure his friends will enjoy his creativity.”

His older brother didn’t disappoint. He also had expanded on the original assignment. His story started with Grégory spread-eagled on his bed. There were a few taunts and Philippe’s fictional counterpart left the blond twink to his own device for a little time. He came back with Nicolas on a leash, wearing only Speedos and shorts. Philippe then arranged the newcomer’s position, so he would be within eye and nose reach of his blond friend. They both sported boners and the story’s Philippe announced them how their creaming their underwear condemned them to a longer detention.

“Nice one, Phil,” Hervé praised. “You’ve dealt with both of your friends too. Let’s see what Greg had in mind.”

The focus turned to the blond cutie. He had heard the guideline for a smutty story and he respected it. The heartthrob depicted Philippe tree-tied, with details on the many ropes woven around the youthful, captive body. There was a description of the gagging, with his soiled underwear crammed inside his boyfriend’s mouth and several layers sealing them in. There were three milkings depicted afterwards, illustrating Grégory’s expertise when it came to bringing Philippe to orgasm.

“Someone has been longing for our big brother’s cock,” Hervé joked, “and it makes for a good story.”

“Nice they behaved. They saved us quite some time doing our chores. I think I’m getting used to having servants.”

“We’ll have them waiting on us all summer. You may even forget how to perform chores… It’s time for their reward, though. It’s high time we free their little sausages.”

The two siblings got busy releasing their prisoners from their chairs. They had them stand next to each other with their hands cuffed behind their backs once again. Hervé took the ring with the small keys on it and handed it to his brother.

“I’ll let you make them happy,” he said handing the release solutions.

Cédric kneeled in front of Nicolas who stood at the left of the line.

“Let me see,” he said pulling the shorts and Speedos down. He reached for the lock and the clicking sound of its release resounded in the quiet room. He slowly pulled the plastic tube. He heard a gasp of relief coming from behind the gag. The freed penis grew almost immediately, expanding enthusiastically after being confined so severely for days. Yet the expected caress didn’t come. Cédric moved on to Grégory, whose rod proudly stuck out within ten seconds of the device’s removal.

Philippe welcomed the ‘reward’. They soon stood with turgid, twitching members. They kept still and silent, wondering who would get a hand job first.

“Pull their shorts back up, Cédric; we’ve seen their willies enough. I’m sure they’re embarrassed, having to wave their poles around.”

Cédric complied; in reverse order he tucked the three pieces of rigid manhood back under the soft and gleaming layers of nylon. The three rods stuck out and tented the underwear and shorts. The wearers could feel the fabrics specific lay-out, which had the briefs rub against the shorts in the smoothest possible way.

“Now they’re decent again. Let’s take them out for some exercise. Our lads need to breathe some fresh air, don’t they?”

The mumbles and grunts that followed betrayed the pupils’ distress; they couldn’t believe that they wouldn’t get any further release.

“Hush,” Hervé warned, “It’s still time to put the cages back on. You’d better rejoice when we show some attention to your welfare.”

His threat got the expected result and the gagged grunts stopped immediately.

“Let’s try out a new way to get you moving. Greg, step behind Phil… Good. Nico, step behind Greg.”

The tormenting brothers had planned this transfer ahead. Cédric removed Philippe’s handcuffs; he prodded Grégory forward and locked his older brother’s wrists behind the blond captive’s back. He then did the opposite for Grégory and Nicolas, cuffing their hands in front, over the navel of the boy preceding them.

“Nice chain gang we’ve got here, Ced.”

The three bound boys started wiggling. The gliding of their members over each other’s body yielded the expected relief. Grégory let his hands slide down to seize the front of Phillippe’s tented shorts.

“Get walking!”

Motion wasn’t the first thing on the minds of the fettered trio. At least not the kind that would have them move forward. Frantic shaking and twisting occurred nonetheless to celebrate the newfound freedom of their penises. Their steps were small and erratic, as they merely rocked from one foot to the next, relishing the contact the bodies in front or the hands from behind caused to the inmates that had just gone out of jail..

Cédric’s riding crop fell over Nicolas’ buttocks, to sting him into pushing his friends. The three teenage boys could no longer pay attention to their captors. Lustful thoughts overwhelmed them, and the stimulation of their throbbing pieces of meat took all their focus. Two more cuts of the riding crop, its swishing sound and the ensuing crack didn’t manage to get the enraptured three-some’s attention.

“Hold it,” Hervé whispered to his brother, “I don’t think we can really tame them now. Don’t worry, though I’ll keep the score and they won’t get away with it.”

Grégory reached orgasm first, but the mewling pack of hobbled boys all got to a state of exalted bliss within ten seconds. The writhing and the moaning calmed down as they ground to a halt, the sound of heavy panting subsiding.

Cédric left ten seconds of relief to the trio before his riding crop cut through the air and landed over Nicolas’s shorted buttocks with a loud crack.

“No dawdling!”

“Ha! Ha! They’re love struck. And they just all got two thousand more points to their tally. We removed your cages; this doesn’t mean you’re allowed to squirt your juice.”

TBC

[Bondwriter]

Sweaty Tie-Up: Back to School

6. Outdoors Fun

The trussed up trio was on the move again. They didn’t have time or help to attend to the wetness bathing their crotches. The fresh semen started dripping down their legs as they made their way out of the house. They came slowly to their senses, cooing and reassuring each other through physical contact, while walking at the fastest pace their situation allowed.

“Doing better, lads? Do you feel relief after those days in chastity? You’re in luck, we have some more sex stuff on schedule for our horny pupils,” Hervé commented cheerfully.

“Some fresh air and some hanky-panky, there’s nothing better to get the pressure out,” his brother added.

The group was outside the house; the sun was quite high and it felt warm already. Hervé led them to the tree-planted area at the end of the large garden.

“You need some preparation,” the younger lad said.

He had probably made plans with Cédric earlier, for his brother knew exactly how they were supposed to act. The two lads released the captives from their chain gang, leaving them standing with their wrists bound behind their backs. They then got towels from the travel bag Hervé had picked up in the hall. They wiped and dried most of the seminal liquid that had flooded the boys’ shorts and dribbled down to the top of their knee-high socks.

“Much better,” Hervé said tucking Nicolas’s manhood back under its polyamide layer, adjusting the cock and balls underneath, “There’ll be stains but don’t worry, Nico, we’ll have you do the laundry later on.”

He caressed the rod through the fabric, which had gotten its softness back with its dryness. This stimulus made the young and eager penis grow and twitch.

“Is Greg still hard, Ced?” he asked his brother.

“He sure is. I don’t even need to tell you about Phil,” Cédric replied, extending his second hand towards his older brother’s tented shorts, “He’s all moist and rigid down there. Our pupils are a bunch of horny pets, keeping their little birdies in cages don’t seem to tame them much.”

“We’ll trap their dongs in plastic for a longer time this summer, then!”

Gagged protests ensued, the most vocal being his older brother’s.

“What’s your problem, Phil? Don’t you think our parents would agree with us? We may ask them what they think of you and your little friends wanking each other…”

Silence ensued.

“Now you’re decent,” the youngest of the siblings continued, “we’re going to give you one more chance to empty your ball sacks.”

He gestured towards Cédric and they moved on to the next stage of their plans. Working as a pair, they started handling Philippe. They approached with coils of rope. They bound a chest harness first. They removed his handcuffs and grabbed his forearms, pulling them in a reverse prayer position. They knotted the rope leaving his hands between his shoulder blades.

Grégory and Nicolas soon got the same treatment.

“Your hands are out of the way, we may start. You’ll each get five minutes to cum again. You’re up first, Greg. Use any way you want.”

Hervé reached for the bulge inside the blond boy’s shorts.

“You feel ready again. Who do you want to rub against? I’ll say Phil, but what do I know?”

Hervé knew his captives. Grégory hopped towards Philippe, stepping behind him.

“He knows what he wants, Herv,” Cédric laughed, “Feeling our brother’s bum is the biggest kick our blond lover boy can get.”

Grégory had now been under the brothers’ control enough times to know better than starting without being given a signal. Hervé got his timer and pressed the button.

“Get going, we want you to squirt your juice in your shorts again.”

He could go at last. Grégory pressed his crotch against his black-haired friend’s bottom. He was aware of the time limit, but this isn’t what motivated him most. The feel of the nylon played a more important role in his arousal. The firmness of the familiar buttocks made the strong boner inescapable.

Hervé kept an eye on his timer and the other one on the contestants. Cédric picked his riding crop. He accompanied Grégory’s hip motions with cuts of the whipping staff. The recipient didn’t react to the whip cracking down. He was fully into his passionate rubbing after ten seconds at the most. He was fully dedicated to achieving his goal.

The hip grinding and the swishing sound of the nylon-clad mid-sections caressing each other got stronger and louder. Cédric kept on giving the beat with his riding crop. The brothers were used to the long, loud and expressive moans their charges usually gave out when about to burst out.

“Mmmrgrmmph!!!”

“Nice job, Greg,” Hervé approved, “Only three minutes and a half. You’re up, Nic. You’ll partner with Greg. It might make Phil jealous, but as you can see, he shouldn’t bother you or prevent you from enjoying his boyfriend’s bum. Philippe likes sharing.”

“And we remind him of it when he doesn’t!”

Nicolas had watched the show eagerly. He’d grown aroused again, the sight and sounds being of the kind boosting his libido. He bounced on tiptoe towards the grail he’d been offered. He positioned himself so he would get all the benefit from the favour. Nicolas loved pressing his chest against his blond friend’s back. He could enjoy the enticing smell of his hair, and the flesh of his arms.

He waited for Hervé’s signal before he made contact with the warm, appealing body in front.

“You’re up,” Hervé announced, launching his timer. Nicolas started to grind, with Cédric softly patting the shorted buttocks and accompanying the motion. He was keen to benefit from Grégory’s buttocks and their welcoming touch. He soon got into frenzy to achieve orgasm. It took him ten seconds less than Greg to shoot his load. Nicolas let out the sighs and grunts that came with an orgasm. It would have worried an unexpected audience. Hervé and Cédric just smiled and cheered him on.

“Nice one, Nico. I can’t help marvelling at how involved and ecstatic you get when having dirty fun with your friends.”

“They’re ripe for what we’ve got planned for them, Herv,” his brother sneered, giving a small but sharp and cracking slap on his right buttock.

“Yup, we’ll just need to provide Phil with some relief before we may go on with the next game.”

Nicolas had barely recovered from coital bliss when he felt a new pleasant sensation. Cédric was goading his bound and gagged brother to stand behind him. The restraints and gags did little to curb the boys’ enthusiasm. The more constraints and the more control, the wilder their lust got. Philippe would definitely always lose their games if winning implied refraining from opening the dam too soon.

His brothers ordered him to get going when Hervé started the timer. Cédric helped Grégory out, bringing him to the back of the file so his brother would be sandwiched between his two friends.

“It’s like they’re learning from each other,” Hervé said when stopping the timer. Philippe quivered from the orgasm that had raised his hair over his head. “They’re doing better and better. Their shorts have to be cleaned again, I suppose.”

“We’ll change them. We’re this kind; we treat our older brother and his friends like princes.”

Cédric split the cluster of bound boys enjoying their nearness, lining them up for inspection again. This time, they unbound their legs so they could remover their shorts completely. The humid and shiny penises stood at half-mast, bobbing around and glistening when they caught the sun, but not fully erect.

Hervé and Cédric shared a knowing look when picking clean towels to wipe the three crotches dry. They’d secretly agreed to get the young cocks back to their state of erectile pride. After all, they’d gotten some great stuff to undertake the next trial. The refined accessories they were about to use required some filming, and the three teen slaves had to look good for the camera. This meant they needed to be quite dry and very hard.

“Remember last summer when we rode ponies at Steph’s grandfather’s, Herv? We had to towel them afterwards,” Cédric remarked, “to keep them dry so they wouldn’t get cold.”

“Now you say it… It’s a bit the same thing.”

The siblings went on cleaning up their shire horses. Once the appeased sausages were fully dry, Cédric and Hervé busied themselves to keep their stable decent. Speedos were on the agenda. They were fast to put on, but also easy to remove. Hervé’s planned activities required gaining access to their crotches.

The three swimming suits were new also. This time, the extensible front pouches could fulfil their purpose. The three proud and rising manly members stuck out shamelessly. They pointed distinctly upwards. The shimmering fabric covered them but didn’t purloin what lied beneath.

“Let’s release their arms, I wouldn’t mind checking they can be useful as rides. We’ll have some distances to walk this summer. Our pupils will make it less tiring carrying us on their backs.”

Cédric relished the idea. He got busy unbinding Nicolas’s arms from the severe reverse prayer predicament. Hervé attended to Grégory, coaxing him with whispers in his ear.

“Keep calm, Golden Mane, I’ll remove the tethers keeping your front legs bound… Then you may step down and you will demonstrate how good you are as a mount. We reward a good ride with caresses and petting, and I’m sure a few minutes from now you’ll be longing for the touch of other boys’ hands.”

Cédric had gotten Nicolas on all four, instructing him to remain still while he took care of Philippe. Grégory joined him at the hands of Hervé.

“Keep your hooves on the floor, no scratching between your legs, my little colt,” he whispered, holding Grégory as he kneeled and checking his hands didn’t perform any unwanted activity.

He helped Cédric with their older brother; they no longer feared any rebellious move from their tamed relative.

“Don’t they look cute? They really make the new swimwear look perfect. Our generous donators have gotten quite a few parcels delivered over the last fortnight or so. These Speedos are just your size, as you may notice.”

The three bums wiggled slightly to check the assertion.

“I’ll ride Nico while you ride Greg?”

Hervé welcomed Cédric’s suggestion.

“Just my thoughts. Come here, Phil, get behind Greg, you need to follow him up closely.”

Philippe complied. His little brother had a thin piece of nylon rope, which he threaded through the D-ring on his collar’s front.

“Get closer, I’m sure you don’t mind nuzzling Greg’s bum, do you?”

He pulled the rope forward.

“Spread your thighs open, Greg,” he ordered. The blond boy did as told; he wasn’t even surprised when he felt Hervé eager little hands knotting Philippe’s leash to the base of his slowly inflating cock, trapping his balls in the noose.

“You’d better not dawdle, Phil, and you ponies should consider each other’s pace if we don’t want our yearling to get his testicles pulled off.”

The tether was short enough that Philippe’s nose rested over his friend’s butt crack. Soon his little brother’s nylon-clad bottom was within his sight. Cédric and Hervé mounted their horses, sitting at the small of their backs and folding their legs, their ankles crossed under the mounts’ stomachs.

The pets’ spines were solid; the younger boys happened to be quite light too, and the two boys who doubled as horses could benefit from the soft and enticing caress of the smooth tracksuit or shorts, which the ponies couldn’t help but feel. The two younger lads didn’t feature penises that rivalled their slaves’ in size, but their vitality and lustful leanings were clearly perceptible to the ridden mounts.

The ride was short. The fresh air had to feel invigorating to the bound and gagged charges. Their libido was on the high side again. Philippe had a first-hand experience of the refinement of wearing tailor-made underwear.

The dark grey fabric glimmered, highlighting the rippling of the gluteal muscles it swathed. The touch and the smell added to Philippe’s desire. He stuck closely to Grégory, making sure there never was any unwanted tension on the leash linking his collar to his friend’s ball sack.

His brother called their horses to a halt on the other side of the garden, at the foot of the large cement pole that could host numerous cloth-lines stretching to the wall six metres away.

TBC

[Bondwriter]

Sweaty Tie-Up: Back to School

7. Outdoor Games

They had removed the thin cotton ropes their mom used to hang the laundry to. The pillar wasn’t rid of cordage, though. The 6-inch wide concrete post was wrapped in many coils of rope. They were grey, navy blue or black, made of nylon like climbing ropes. They’d been woven and coiled in the now classic preparation for a tree or pole tie.

The brothers had figured out a technique that made for a nasty and inescapable pole-tie. They used clove-hitched ropes at all the adequate locations to wrap around the body of their victim and unite him tightly to the vertical fixture they trussed him up to.

This time, there were three sets of ropes, which made it more complicated. Philippe couldn’t help but admire his brothers’ motivation. All ropes’ ends were wrapped in small, tidy coils tightly knotted so they didn’t tangle up.

“Stand up, Greg, you’re done playing the horse. We’ll have the three of you enjoy some time in the sun to end this morning outside.”

“Mrrbllmm?” he asked, worried about the leash around Philippe’s neck and tied at the base of his genitals.

“What about your balls? I’m sure you may get on your feet and Phil will follow your lead so he remains close to you and won’t cause your precious little bollocks any pain. We know how much you care for each other, and this is a way to prove it. Hear it, Phil? If we hear moans from your friend because you don’t react fast enough, we’ll whip your arse.”

“Until it turns crimson,” Cédric sighed.

The pair moved flawlessly, Philippe moving up and down as Grégory got to his knees. The blond boy grunted to let his special friend know he was standing up. He got one foot in front and he slowly lifted himself, with Philippe pushing on his arms and lifting his head. They ended up with Philippe kneeling with his face planted in Grégory’s bottom.

“Time to remove the leash, otherwise Phil can’t really stand and lean against this comfortable post. We’re not done giving you relief, by the way. Once bound to the beam, we may try out yet new garments that you should enjoy.”

The trio quivered. They were totally under their captors’ charm. The prospect of more sexual stimulation made the masochistic gang all putty in their handlers’ hands.

Cédric rushed back to the house. He came back with his video camera and its stand. He set it up to record the binding that would take place.

“Smile pretty, pupils, you’re being filmed.”

“We’ll have evidence if you don’t comply fully as you’re expected to.”

Nicolas was the first in line. They used the navy-blue ropes to pin him against the sturdy mass of concrete. They opted for wrist cuffs; they put on leather bracelets with D-rings. His hands were bound in front, in a prayer position, attached to the harness surrounding the top of his body. His fingers were within his face’s reach. He’d been advised not to pull down the scarf that wrapped his lower face nonetheless.

Philippe was next. He could feel Nicolas’s arm against his, but better yet his buttock and his thigh. This and the weaving of ropes entwined around his body got him to fill the front of his black Speedos to the brink.

“Our big brother sure likes being trussed up,” Cédric remarked, squeezing the black bulge protruding in front of his sibling”

They finished binding his legs and torso; his forearms were solidly knotted together in front. They turned to their final charge.

“We’ve still got the little blond cutie to take care of… You’re up, Greg!”

The boy was as docile as his fellow-captives were. They gently led him to the post and surrounded his in grey ropes.

Hervé checked his charges, tightening coils here and there while his brother ran back to the house again. Cédric came back carrying a small folding ladder. He set it up in front of Nicolas and Hervé, the front legs close to their feet.

“We’ll release your hands from the rest of the bonds and you’re going to bring them up gently.”

Cédric climbed four steps on the ladder, putting the front of his shorts within sight and smell from his guests. The boys had their hands up, and Cédric threaded a piece of rope through the six D-rings outside the leather bracelets imprisoning the boys. He turned around the post so their hands were denied any attempt at mischief. Hervé handed him a second piece of rope. He took care of the boys’ elbows.

“Nico enjoys having your dick so close to his face, Ced.”

“You enjoy checking he does,” his brother smiled, “too bad he’s gagged; he could have sucked me.”

“You see, lads, there’s some advantage at being muzzled, not only can’t you say anything stupid, but your mouth is also protected from dicks or other boners.”

“I’m not convinced he’d mind.”

Cédric got done with the three pairs of arms sticking upwards. He linked them solidly to the post. He checked the ropes one after the other; Hervé did the same with the ropes underneath.

“We did a good job, they won’t escape us. Now, my quiet little pets… You all seem to be up for more sex fun. You’re allowed to wank.”

Without their hands, how were they supposed to? The three of them squirmed, trying to pivot to rub against their friends, but to no end.

“Oh you can’t? Too bad!” Hervé gloated, “If you ask politely, though…”

Three long and painful wails replied to the taunt.

“We’ll give you a hand.”

“Literally,” Cédric added.

“But first of all, some necessary add-ons.”

Hervé was never short of surprises. He pulled some new swimwear from the bag he’d taken along.

They looked really small. Nicolas figured they’d be wearing thongs for the rest of the day. Hervé kneeled in front of him. He wasn’t sure being first all the time was a good sign. The skilled hands tugging on his Speedos’ waistband got his mind back on the immediate happenings.

“They’re just like the Speedos you had on before, but these should be closer and tighter.”

Nicolas looked down, bowing his head to see what Hervé was doing to his loins. With the briefs down, his nubile – yet hairless – penis stuck up, throbbing from the younger boy’s touch. Nicolas witnessed the lad rolling what he first believed to be a thong over his middle finger. He was left with what looked like a large polyamide condom, which he slid over the hard and begging member. This wasn’t water-proof and it even featured a small hole at the end, so the prophylactic or contraceptive properties of the garment were zero.

The sheath fit like a second skin. Hervé’s nimble fingers adjusted it so the small bag at the end was facing down and it could accommodate the pair of testicles. There was a small cord to tighten it so it wouldn’t slide off.

“One down, two to go. Isn’t it a great outfit? Your poor little cocks can get some much needed exercise, yet you remain decent.”

Cédric offered to help out; he got the black penile sheath that was meant for Philippe and kneeled at his older sibling’s feet. Hervé had the grey one. He folded the Speedos to gain access to the twitching member and wrapped it in its sheen wrapper.

It took three minutes and the three pole-tied prisoners had most of their genitals out of sight. Hervé jumped to his feet and got a good look.

“Good job, Ced. Just one little detail to get our boys motivated.”

He ran to the other side of the garden, where they’d changed their charges into their dry underpants. He came back holding the three pairs of soiled shorts.

“One final detail so they get a complete pole-tie experience.”

Nicolas happened to be the first recipient of the twelve-years-old’s gift. The prisoners had now figured out their tormentors’ colour scheme. The black pair was Philippe’s. Hervé laid it over is lower face, setting the crotch just around his nostrils. He wrapped a thin piece of nylon rope five times around his head to keep the shorts there, giving its scent off to the close and flaring nostrils.

The rope was tied off at the nape of his neck with a tight square knot. Hervé used the remaining lengths to make a few turns around the pole, pinning Nicolas’s head against the concrete.

Cédric took care of the grey shorts, which Philippe had the privilege to sniff, identifying the specific aromas his blond boyfriend exuded.

Grégory was last in line; had he been blindfolded, he’d known the shorts had been worn by Nicolas. He knew whose garment he was meant to sniff by sight, though. The smell only confirmed what he’d seen.

The wardens took a couple steps off. They turned back to their captives’ mid-sections.

“We turn away from their boners for two minutes, and they grow them even bigger! But… Look, Ced!”

He pointed to Philippe’s tented Speedos.

“You’re right, Herv, it seems darker at the tip of his cock.”

Cédric reached for his brother’s penis through the garment. He brought his moist fingers to his nostrils.

“He’s leaking boy juice. What a naughty little boy!”

“I’ll write it down so we don’t forget. There are going to be bottoms to whack this evening. Apparently, Phil’s friends are better behaved than he is. They’re still dry.”

Grégory and Nicolas could only hope the hand feeling for wetness didn’t linger on and knead them much further; they’d likely get a distinct and unmistakable pre-cum spot if skilled digits worked at it.

Thankfully, the groping stopped in time.

“They’re all set for another timed trial,” Hervé stated, “Will you start with Greg, Ced?”

Cédric was always fond of playing with their pupils’ genitals. He put a pair of gloves on. These shone and reflected the light much as the underwear did. It had to be the very same fabric. He stood next to Grégory, who stood very still and could no longer catch a sight of what was going on down around his loins, thanks to the extra shorts’ layer and the rope pinning his head to the concrete beam.

“Ready? Steady… Go!”

Hervé triggered the timer and Cédric attacked. He knew of Grégory’s sensitive areas, which made the masturbatory assault successful. The trussed victim couldn’t resist for long and less than four minutes later, under Cédric’s cheers, he erupted. The liquid spurted out in short bursts, flooding the Speedos and creating a large darker stain in front. Semen seeped out through and gobs of whitish liquid indicated where the glans lied.

Grégory breathed heavily to regain his senses. The two tormentors had already moved on. Cédric handled his brother, Hervé having chosen Nicolas. They indulged in some foreplay, taunting and teasing the trussed up pair, knowing how their dominating talk aroused their peculiar audience.

They looked closely at the trembling members, assessing when they would be ripe for a final shaking. Hervé gave the countdown.

“Three… Two… One… Ignition!”

Hervé launched the timer. The two turgid cocks felt the hold of their captors’ hands closing down on their lively boners. Their owners couldn’t resist the rising desire that their situation and this final shake-off created in their loins. They ejaculated within five seconds of each other.

“Quite a feat,” Hervé said, looking at the timer he’d stopped when Nicolas orgasmed, “They managed to cum even faster than Blondie.”

“They’re impressive, that’s for sure,” Cédric added, “They failed the endurance test, but they seem to be bottomless pits.”

There were some grunts in reaction. The three pupils all heard the part about failing the test. What was it all about?

“Uh, oh, Ced, it seems they don’t like what you said. Did we forget to tell them they had to go past five minutes?”

“We may have. It doesn’t change much to the result, though.

Gagged protests grew louder.

“They disagree. I really don’t feel like listening to their nonsense. Let’s leave them trussed up to their torture pole while we get a sandwich.”

They didn’t need to exchange further; they left laughing, leaving the moaning trio struggle in their tight bonds.

TBC

[blackbound]

I had imagined one of those washing spindles that rotate and some devious pony going-round-in-a-circle training, but this is equally acceptable

[Bondwriter]

Hey Blackbound. I went to check the description was adequate; the chapter cut caused the misrepresentation.
The idea of a carousel for exercise is duly noted. Always taking in suggestions!