Stories of Tie Up Games

This was a commission piece done for me by a friend. Fluentinstroll
Hope you like it

Corey left the stadium feeling good. It was a brisk night, and he pulled his Celtic football club scarf around his neck, smoothing down his matching shirt. His smile reached all the to his blue eyes, and he brushed some of his blonde hair from his view as he looked out at the evening. It had been one hell of a match - a grudge match, no less, but he was happy with a 2-1 victory over his favorite team’s rivals, the Rangers. A last minute save by the Celtic keeper had kept the game from going into a tie, and he was flying high.

With his mates all busy, Corey had attended the match by himself, but he didn’t feel so lonely now as many celebrating Celtic fans, and some upset and angry Rangers fans, left the stadium.

He didn’t live too terribly far - just a mile and a half, so Corey decided to walk home after the game, not realizing that, as he left the stadium, two men in Rangers jerseys and scarves were following him.

Marc and Brett had had a bit too much to drink at the game, and were upset with their loss, so why not heckle a rival fan a little bit. The skinny blonde decked out in Celtic gear who was walking alone seemed an easy target, so they walked after him, waiting until they were farther away from the throngs of people before letting him know they were there.

The two men followed Corey down an alley, and halfway through it, Marc pushed him against the wall.

“Celtic bitch,” Marc said, smirking. “We’ll get your lot next time, you little shit.”

“It was a good game,” Corey said, gulping, trying to be polite. These guys smelled of beer, and it was clear to him they were looking for a fight. If he didn’t give it to them, maybe they would just go away.

“Ha, you smug little prick,” Brett said. Marc moved so that he and Brett were on either side of Corey, preventing him from exiting the alley without barreling through one of them, and as both of the men were a great deal larger than him, that didn’t seem like much of an option.

Brett pulled a cigarette from his pocket, lighting it. “Why don’t you go right ahead and tell us that you know Ranger’s are the best,” he said, taking a drag from his cigarette.

“What? No!” Corey shook his head. He was loyal to his football club, and he wouldn’t give in to two guys just looking to throw down.

“Aw, come on, just tell us what we all know is true, that Rangers rock, and Celtic suck, and we’ll let you go on home,” Marc teased.

“Absolutely not!” Corey frowned. It wasn’t true - obviously, his team had just won, making them the better players, so why would he lie to please these drunken idiots? “Celtic are the best, I think we all just witnessed the truth in that!”

“Wrong answer,” Marc said, furrowing his brow. Corey’s refusal to comply with them made him angry.

“Just,” Corey moved to push past him. “Fuck off, will you?”

“No,” Brett said, taking another drag of his cigarette. “I don’t think we will, will we, Marc? Not until he tells us what we want to hear.”

“Not until then,” Marc agreed. “So come on, Celtic bitch, out with it.”

“Celtic rule, Rangers-”

But before Corey could continue, finish what he was saying, he found his mouth blocked. From behind him, Marc had removed his Rangers scarf, and shoved it through Corey’s mouth. He tied the scarf tightly behind his head, the thick fabric cleave gagging him effectively.

“Mmhnph phhm fnch?!” Corey reached up to remove the scarf quieting his words, but Marc grabbed his arms, pulling them behind his back.

“No more of that kind of talk,” Marc said. “We were clear in what we asked for, and you didn’t obey.” He laughed, the alcohol overpowering any sense of good judgement he might have had as he held Corey’s skinny wrists tightly in one of his hands.

“Mmph gn nf mm mnn nphphhnmm!” Corey struggled speaking against the blue scarf in his mouth, but he was ignored. Brett blocked his other way out, still smirking and smoking his cigarette, as Marc pulled the Celtic scarf from around Corey’s neck.

“Can’t have you taking that scarf out of your mouth and talking more smack about our Rangers, you see,” he said teasingly as he bound Corey’s wrists behind him with the green and white scarf.

“We should take him back to our flat,” Brett said, smirking as he watched his friend tie up the Celtic fan. “Teach him a little lesson.”

“Mmhnph? Nn!” Corey shook his head. What the fuck was going on? Was he really being kidnapped by a couple of drunk Rangers fans? It certainly seemed that way.

“Yup.” Mark smirked. “You’re coming with us.” He easily lifted Corey up, throwing him over his shoulder.

“HMMP! HMMP MM!” Corey screamed against his gag, kicking his legs to try and get free.

“Brett, a little help?” Marc said with a smirk.

“Sure thing.” Brett stamped out his cigarette, and pulled the blue Rangers scarf from his own neck. He used it to tie Corey’s kicking ankles.

“Fnch, mmhnph nrm mnn nnnng? Mmph mm gn!” Corey struggled, but he was no match for Marc’s strength. He twisted, but somehow, the men had gotten the knots on the scarves tight, and his wrists and ankles were secure, as was the scarf gagging his mouth.

Marc walked out of the alley with Brett at his side, casual as anything. It was late enough that, save for the football fans, the streets were mostly empty, and while the scarf didn’t totally silence their captive, he wasn’t likely to garner much attention either.

The two men strolled casually down the street towards their flat, Marc holding tightly to Corey’s squirming body.

“What the fuck?” As they turned the corner, two men, also a few beers in, looking like they had come from the match as well, looked at them.

“Oh, bet with our friend,” Marc smirked.

“HMMP! N'm hmnng hnnnnppmn! Hmmp mm pmmnphm!” Corey tried to get their attention.

“You know, a consolation prize for us losers,” Brett said with a sigh, gesturing to his Rangers jersey.

“Fucking Celtic fans,” one of the men said with a smirk, his concern completely dissipating as he believed Brett’s story. “You’re doing us a favor, shutting him up, they’re all crowing about their victory.”

“Carry on, have fun,” the other man said.

“That was close,” Brett said under his breath as they walked away from the other men.

“Eh, we’re almost home,” Marc said, not at all concerned. Sure, it had been a close call, but they had won out in the end, hadn’t they? Still, he picked up the pace a little, and in no time, they were entering the two bedroom flat he and Brett shared.

Fortunately, they had their own entrance, so they didn’t have to risk anyone seeing them bring a bound and gagged 28 year old into their place, and Brett locked the door behind them as Marc deposited Corey on the couch.

“I’ll watch our little prisoner,” he said. “You find anything we could use to tie him up and keep him quiet,” he paused. “And a couple more beers?”

“Definitely.” Brett laughed as he disappeared into the house.

“Pmmnphm, mnn hnfm phn mmph mm gn!” Corey struggled, trying to untie the thick knot, but it was cumbersome, and just out of reach. He knew the scarf bondage wouldn’t hold forever, but apparently, his kidnappers knew that, too, as one of them was looking for reinforcements. “Mnn cnn'ph nn phhnph phn mm!”

“You’re really mouthy, aren’t you?” Marc laughed. “Good thing I thought to shut you up, huh?”

“Phphnp phhnph! Mnn hnfm phn mmph mm gn!” Corey wriggled on the couch, knowing that even if he were to get loose, well, Marc was right there, standing over him, and easily twice his size.

“I’m back,” Brett said with a smirk. He set two beers on the coffee table, and dumped a whole bunch of things on the table.

Marc went through it, smirking. There were several bandanas, two rolls of duct tape, some assorted rags from around the house, and surprising him most, a significant amount of rope.

“Where’d we get this?” Marc asked.

“It’s mine,” Brett said with a smirk. “I know how to use it, too.”

“You learn new things every day,” Marc said with a shrug, popping open his beer and taking a swig. “Well, since you know how to use it so well, why don’t you go ahead and tie him up properly?”

“I’d love to,” Brett smirked. “Help me get him into that chair?” he gestured to one of the wooden dining chairs. It had a nice slatted back, and would be good for tying someone to.

“Nn! Hmmp! PHNMMNNM HMMP MM!” Corey struggled as the men picked him up and deposited him into the chair.

“Hold him still,” Brett said.

Marc held Corey into the chair while Brett untied the scarf from around his wrists. Corey tugged, trying to get free so he could pull his gag off and scream for help, but it was no use, Brett was stronger. He pulled Corey’s wrists behind him and crossed them. He tied them together tightly, then secured them to one of the slats of the chair. He took another length of rope and wove it between the slats and Corey’s skinny torso, securing his back to the chair with little room for movement. Another length of rope was tied around his upper arms, and pulled through the slats as well, keeping him strictly bound.

“Pmmnphm phphnp!” Corey pushed at the gag in his mouth as Brett moved around to the front of the chair. He tied more ropes around Corey’s thighs, and down over the seat of the chair, keeping him secured there before he knelt beside Marc. He wrapped ropes around Corey’s legs just below the knees before removing the scarf binding his ankles and tying his ankles together as well. He tied a rope around Corey’s already bound ankles, and pulled it under the chair. He moved back behind it and pulled up on the rope, threading the other end through Corey’s bound wrists, hogtying him around the chair.

While he was doing this, while the men were focused on tying him up, Corey focused on pushing the scarf from his mouth, finally succeeding. The scarf fell around his neck, and he began to shout.

“HELP! SOMEONE HELP MMPH!” Marc’s hand went over his mouth, and he moved behind the chair to get a better grip.

“Shut up, boy,” he growled.

“Here.” Brett wadded up one of the rags and handed it to Marc. “Shove it in his mouth.”

Marcus did as Brett said, and put his hand back over it while Brett tied a knot in one of the bandanas. He brought it over, and stood in front of their captive.

“Remove your hand in a sec, I’ll shove the knot in, you tie it behind his head,” he instructed.

“Nn, pmmnphm!” Corey shook his head, trying to shake free of the man’s hand, but it was of no use, his mouth was tightly covered...at least until Marc released it, and Brett shoved the knot into his mouth.

Brett quickly grabbed the ends of the bandana and pulled it tight, knotting it behind his head securely.

“Pmmnphm, phphnp!” Corey begged as he was tightly gagged.

“There we go,” Brett said with a smirk, admiring the way Corey was, bound and helpless. “That’s how all Celtic fans should look.” He lifted his beer, raising it to Marc, who clinked his against Brett’s.

“You kinky little shit,” Marc teased.

“Hey, I know my way around a little bondage, nothing wrong with that,” he said with a shrug, taking a swig of his beer. “Plus, even you have to admit, he looks much better bound and gagged, doesn’t he?”

“He sure does.” Marc smirked.

“Mmph! MMPH!” Corey struggled against his bonds, looking at his captors angrily, but the ropes were tight, and the new gag? It was a lot more uncomfortable than the scarf had been. His mouth was filled with the rag and the knot, and his cries were definitely muffled. It wasn’t likely anyone was going to hear him if he stayed gagged like this.

The two men sat at the table, pulling Corey’s chair up so that he was seated at the table as well.

“This is, hands down, the only way I would ever let a Celtic fan at my table,” Marc said with a grin as he lit a cigarette, blowing the smoke into Corey’s face as he did so, and passing the pack of cigarettes to Brett, who lit one as well.

Corey turned his head away, coughing into his gag.

“What, little Celtic bitch uncomfortable?” Brett teased, taking a long pull from his beer. “What’s the matter, don’t like being bound and gagged?”

“Nn, N nnn'ph! Nnphnm mm!” Corey shook his head, begging to be untied, but his captors just laughed, clinking their beer bottles together and ignoring his pleas to be released. Corey could tell that they were drunk, and he hoped that they wouldn’t pass out before remembering to let him go!

They finished their beers, and Brett got up to get another one, returning with a glass of water as well.

“I bet you’re real thirsty, huh?” He leered, waving the glass of water in front of Corey’s face.

“Mmph.” Corey nodded. After all, he’d been gagged for over an hour now, if you count the scarf they had tied through his mouth, and he was desperate for some water.

“I think you know what you have to say if you want some water, don’t you?” Brett asked with a smirk.

Marc moved behind Corey and pulled the knotted cleave gag out of his mouth letting it hang around his neck, instantly putting his hand over it to keep in the rag wadded up inside.

“Phphnp, mmph gn nf mm!” Corey squirmed in his restraints, trying to shake the man’s hand off of his mouth.

“Are you gonna say it?” Marc asked, pressing his hand harder over Corey’s mouth, quieting him even further. “If I move my hand, and let you spit out the cloth? Are you gonna say what we want to hear?”

Corey paused for a moment, then nodded. “Mmph.” He looked down. It wasn’t worth it. He wanted to be let go, if lying to these drunken idiots about their football club was what it took to be released, fine.

“Good boy,” Marc smirked, removing his hand.

Corey spat the the rag out instantly.

“Say it,” Brett said, dangling the water in front of him.

“Rangers rule,” he said softly.

“Good boy,” Brett put the glass of water to Corey’s lips, letting him drink from it.

Corey drank until it was empty, absolutely parched.

“Alright, I did what you said, no let me gmmmm!” He lurched in shock as Marc’s hand went over his mouth again, quieting him.

“I don’t think we’re quite done having fun with you, yet, Celtic bitch,” Brett said with a smirk. “Do you want me to gag him again?” he asked, gesturing to the knotted bandana that still hung around his neck.

“After this beer,” Marc said, using his free hand to pick up his beer and take a swig of it. “I like shutting him up myself.” He pulled Corey’s chair closer to him, making sure that his hand was firmly over Corey’s mouth, and couldn’t be shaken free.

“Hmmp! Mmph mm gn, mnn cnn'ph nn phhnph phn mm! Hmmmp! PHNMMNNM!” Corey struggled, crying for help, begging to be let go, but his bonds were tight, and Marc’s hand was firm over his mouth, unrelenting, keeping Corey’s cries extremely muffled.

What had started out as some post-match rowdiness in an alley had turned into a full on kidnapping, as far as Corey was concerned. He had given them what they wanted, and they hadn’t let him go. What did that mean? He was starting to get scared now, not sure that this was still all fun and games...at least not for him.

Marc and Brett seemed to be having a great time. They were drinking, laughing at his predicament, and he whimpered against Marc’s hand. He tried to pull away again when he thought Marc was distracted by his beer, but the hand just pressed harder over his lips.

“Mnn cnn'ph hmmp mm mnhm phhnph fnrmfmr!” He screamed against Marc’s hand, jerking his head upwards to try and escape the man’s grip, to cry out for help. If he was loud enough, he was sure a neighbor would hear him, right?

“Shut up, Celtic bitch,” Marc teased. “You’re not going anywhere. Do you really think we’re gonna let you go tonight, so you can run out and celebrate your victory with your stupid friends? Oh no.” He shook his head. “Besides, I think Brett, here, likes having you tied up, don’t you Brett.”

Brett smirked across the table. “The only true way a Celtic fan should ever be, huh? The second you shut him up with your scarf, it was perfect.”

“Pmmnphm phphnp!” Corey begged against the hand covering his mouth. He didn’t like this, he wanted to go home! “Pmmnphm mmph mm gn!” He pulled at the ropes binding his wrists, hoping to get some sort of relief, but they were too tight, and it was difficult. Brett had really known what he was doing when he had tied him up.

Marc just laughed, taking the last swig of his beer. “Alright, let’s gag him again,” he said, looking at Brett with a drunken glint in his eye. He was having fun harassing this Celtic fan, and that was more than clear.

“Pmmnphm, nn…” Corey shook his head, looking up at the men, willing to comply more if they would just let him go!

“What, you didn’t think we left this around your neck just for fun, did you?” Marc asked, toying with the cleave gag. “It was always going back in.” He picked it up with one hand, and quickly forced the knot back into Corey’s mouth. Of course, it needed to be retied.

“Nn! Hmmp mm! PHNMMNNM HMMP MM!” Corey screamed as the fat knot filled his mouth, shaking his head, jerking around, trying to keep Marc from being able to tie it, but it was no use. Marc got the gag secure as Brett got up from the table, disappearing into the other room.

“HMMP! HMMP MM! PHNMMNNM HMMP MM!” Corey cried out, hoping to attract attention, thrashing as he did so in hopes of loostening his bonds. “HMMP! MMPH MM GN!”

“Shut up!” Marc put his hand back over Corey’s gagged mouth, muffling his continuing cries and pleas for release and help.

“Don’t worry,” Brett said, walking back into the room with a roll of duct tape. “This should quiet him.”

“Nn, pmmnphm, nn! Nnn'ph phnpm mm mnnphh!” Corey looked up at Brett, blue eyes wide as he begged, shaking his head. He knew what was coming, and he hoped to avoid it.

Marc grinned as he, too, realized what was coming, and removed his hand. Brett instantly pressed tape over Corey’s mouth, winding it around his head tightly several times to keep the knotted cleave gag tight in his mouth.

“Mnn cnn'ph nn phhnph phn mm! HMMP, HMMP, HMMP!” Corey cried out as the tape was wound again around his head. Finally, after seven layers had been applied, covering the entire lower half of Corey’s face, and digging into his cheeks, Brett ripped the tape off, smoothing it down.

“That’ll keep you nice and quiet, I should think,” he said with a grin, setting the tape down on the table.

Brett was right. The tape added over his cleave gag greatly helped to muffle his cries, and Corey was beginning to lose hope. These men didn’t seem to have planned on kidnapping anyone, but they certainly seemed to be having fun now that they had.

“That Celtic shirt is a fucking eyesore,” Brett said, inspecting Corey. Even through the ropes, the green and white logo was still visible.

“Yeah, we should really do something about that,” he smirked. “Go get one of your old Rangers shirts,” he said. It’ll be big on him, but that’s fine.”

Brett smirked, nodding and heading off to do so.

“I think it’s time we got you out of that,” Marc said. He moved behind the chair and, to Corey’s surprise, started untying the knots.

“Mmph, mmmph!” Corey turned his head to watch him work. Were they really letting him go? God, he hoped so.

Brett came back as Marc was finishing with the knots, and tossed the extra Rangers shirt on the table.

“Hold his hands, will you?” Marc said as he finished untying them.

Brett pulled Corey’s hands in front of him, holding them as Marc worked to untie the rest of his torso from the chair. Having his wrists untied meant that his legs were no longer pulled up into the hogtie, and though still bound, offered some relief...though why was Brett holding his wrists if he was going to be let go…

He took a deep breath and kicked out with his legs, catching Brett off guard. Brett let go of his wrists, stumbling backwards in pain and shock. Corey wasted no time, he reached up, trying to pull the tape from his mouth to cry out for help, but he greatly underestimated the tightness of the tape, and Brett was grabbing for his hands again in no time.

“Nice try, Celtic bitch,” he said with a smirk, making sure to stand to the side and out of the way of Corey’s legs this time. “You’re not getting rid of us that easy.”

“Pmmnphm nnphph mmph mm gn!” He frowned up at Brett, trying to pull his wrists back, but Brett’s grip was tight.

“There we go.” Marc finished untying his back from the chair, and smirked. “Alright, let’s change his shirt.”

“Nn, pmmnphm nnn'ph!” Corey shook his head, but he knew that he didn’t have a say in the matter. Brett pulled his arms up over his head, and Marc pulled his shirt up and off, Brett letting go of his wrists long enough to grab the Rangers shirt and pull it over his head.

“Rangers blue really brings out your eyes,” Marc teased as he pulled Corey’s hands behind the chair once more. “Let’s move him.”

“I have an idea,” Brett said with a grin, untying the rope that kept his thighs on the seat of the chair. “Pull him up, hold his hands behind his back for me?”

“You got it.” Marc pulled Corey into a standing position, kicking the chair out of the way.

“Pmmnphm nnphph phphnp!” Corey begged, struggling to pull his hands free from Marc’s grasp, though he didn’t think it would do much good even if he did.

Marc held Corey’s wrists tightly as Brett came over with a length of rope. He looked the rope around Corey’s arms just above his elbows and pulled tight, working to bind his arms in tight rope cuffs.

“Mmph,” Corey grunted in pain as his upper arms were bound so tightly, shifting as best he could without falling over.

“Shut up, Celtic bitch,” Brett snarled as he grabbed another length of rope, binding Corey’s wrists in similar rope cuffs.

“Nn! HMMP MM!” Corey screamed against his gag as his wrists were, once again, bound tightly. In his struggle, he fell to the ground with a thud, squirming in his restraints. “MMPH MM GN PHNMMNNM HMMP MM!” He cried out, thrashing about on the floor.

Brett bent down with more rope, preparing to hogtie him when there was a knock on the door. For a moment, all three men froze, then Corey began screaming his head off.

“HMMP! HMMP MM! N'FM HMMN HNNNNPPMN! HMMP MM!” He cried out.

“Fuck.” Marc grabbed him, pulling him up and into his bedroom. He clamped his hand over Corey’s gagged mouth, greatly muffling his cries.

“Mmph mm gn! HMMP!” Corey continued to struggle, even as Marc held him.

Brett went to answer the door. “Oh, hi Mr. Cassidy,” he said, greeting their neighbor.

“Can you boys keep it down in here?” He said. “It’s late. I know you had your football tonight, but it’s very, very late.”

“Yes, of course, Mr. Cassidy,” Brett said, eager to get the man away from their door. “Sorry about that.”

“MMMPH!” Corey called feebly against his gag and Marc’s hand.

“What was that?” Mr. Cassidy asked.

“Oh, nothing,” Brett said. “Marc’s watching TV, I’ll ask him to turn it down.”

“Thank you,” Mr. Cassidy said. “Have a good night - just keep it down,” he reminded.

“We will, sorry about that!” Brett said, closing the door as Mr. Cassidy left, breathing out a sigh of relief. He walked back to the bedroom where Marc was sitting on the bed, holding Corey, his hand still over the blonde’s mouth.

“Who was it?” Marc asked.

“Mr. Cassidy next door,” he said. “Wants us to keep it down.”

“Mmmph!” Corey groaned, feeling hopeless. Help had been right there, and yet here he was, still bound and gagged, with no one coming to his rescue.

“Shall we finish what we started?” Brett asked with a smirk.

“Ah, yes.” Marc pulled Corey, still squirming and muttering against his tight gag, back out into the main room. He pushed him down to the floor, watching with a grin as Brett tied a length of rope between Corey’s bound ankles and rope-cuffed wrists, hogtying him tightly.

“Pmmnphm, pmmnphm nnphph mph mm gn…” Corey begged, feeling exhausted from struggling, and pained by the tight rope restraints.

“See, when you’re tied up like that,” Marc smirked. “You can’t go taking off that Rangers shirt.”

“Mmmph.” Corey tugged at the restraints, but Brett’s hogtie was strict, and he was losing steam fast. He lowered his head, resting it on the ground.

“Awww, look at that, little Celtic bitch is giving up, just like that,” Brett smirked. “He’s kinda cute when he’s not able to move or talk,” he said, reaching out, ruffling Corey’s blonde hair.

Marc stretched, yawning. “I’m getting a little tired, too,” he said. “I think I might turn in,” he said, looking down at their prisoner.

“He’s not going anywhere,” Brett agreed. “Might as well get a little shut eye. He can sleep on my floor.”

“Sounds good.” Marc nodded, turning, heading to his own room.

Brett hauled their whimpering, exhausted captive to his room and deposited him on the floor beside the bed before flopping onto it, falling asleep, drunk, and tired, almost as soon as he hit the mattress.

Corey, worn out, and with no other choice, closed his eyes, and fell asleep, uncomfortable in his secure bondage, hoping that the men would let him go when they woke up in the morning.

[mention]Smythdean[/mention]
I'm not a fan of the Celtics and I'm not a fan of the Rangers (I don't live in the UK).
But I AM a fan of this story!

Congratulations, buddy!
This is a rousing and highly enjoyable piece.

I absolutely LOVE the prominent inclusion of muffled gag talk, and the fact that our little Corey was rather ruthlessly manhandled, bound and handgagged by his much larger captors.

You gotta feel sorry for the scrawny Celtic twerp.
Not only was he forced to admit defeat, but on top of that he's not even being released!

That was definitely a close call with Mr. Cassidy.
Unfortunately for the bound and gagged prisoner, it wasn't close enough.

Poor guy.
LOVING this, mate.

I've kept a seat warm for you on the M/M Author Index.
https://tugstories.com/viewtopic.php?f=26&t=4714
As soon as you open yourself a portfolio, I'm gonna at your name to the top of the page.


P.s- Only thing I would change is the gender-tag at the top of the story.
This is clearly MM/M and not M/MM.

Great story. I'm not a fan of football but if this is the sort of thing that can happen after a match I might have to start going to matches! You can't underestimate sporting rivalries.

A brilliantly executed kidnapping using football scarfs to good effect. Great gags and rope bondage once they get back to the flat. Loved Marc's hand gag and I love the moments where Corey thinks they are going to let him go only for them to humiliate him and bind/gag him tighter. I wonder what they do with him when they are sober in the morning.

bondagefreak wrote: 4 years ago I'm not a fan of the Celtics and I'm not a fan of the Rangers (I don't live in the US).

You clearly don't live in the UK either! Rangers and Celtic are rival football (soccer) clubs from Glasgow that compete in the Scottish Premiership. Just teasing, couldn't resist! Luckily that knowledge isn't required to enjoy the story!

Pup Wingletang wrote: 4 years ago You clearly don't live in the UK either! Rangers and Celtic are rival football (soccer) clubs from Glasgow that compete in the Scottish Premiership. Just teasing, couldn't resist! Luckily that knowledge isn't required to enjoy the story!

Oh damn! You're right, Pup.
There are teams called the Rangers and Celtics in the US, but I totally forgot [mention]Smythdean[/mention] was in the UK.

Besides, USA's Celtics are a basketball team, not a friggin' football team.
My mistake. Yes, even Alphas make those from time to time
Just corrected my comment to "I don't live in the UK".

Smythdean wrote: 4 years ago his favorite team’s rivals, the Rangers

I hope that was deliberate

This is awesome [mention]Smythdean[/mention] and love the fact that that Celtic twerp is getting exactly what he deserves

bondagefreak wrote: 4 years ago
P.s- Only thing I would change is the gender-tag at the top of the story.
This is clearly MM/M and not M/MM.

I’ve amended accordingly. Sorry I always get this wrong.

Thank you so much for the oisitive feedback from everyone so far.
It has always been a fantasy of mine to be kidnapped and held hostage whilst wearing my Celtic shirt. Yes I’m from the Uk and the rivalry between rangers and Celtic can be quite intense. So I thought it would make for a great story. As I said this was a commission written for me, but I do love it and thought it’d be great to share on here. There are another 2 parts that I have and I may look at finishing it myself.

Anyone based in the uk, feel free to come and see me in a rangers shirt.lol

Good read. I'm not into sports, but I enjoy the idea of getting tied up, after a match is lost, though I prefer the idea of it being a bet. Still fun here, though.

I like the touch of having Corey forced to wear something that he doesn't want to wear. I don't see that element much in stories here, but it's something that I always like.

Thanks for sharing this story with us.

Seeing as these 2 teams are playing each other today, I think it’s right to post part 2. Hopefully Celtic win and some angry rangers fans bump into me.lol

Part 2
Brett awoke the next morning to sunlight pouring in through his window, and the familiar sound of someone “mmphing” against a gag. Had he fallen asleep watching porn, and left it on a loop somehow? He honestly wasn’t sure. His head was pounding from the excessive drinking he had done the night before, and he didn’t exactly remember everything.

He reached for his phone to shut off whatever video was playing, but frowned as he realized that it was not only not playing a video, but was completely dead. He looked to his desk, where his laptop was closed.

“MMnhm np! MMNHM NP!” Corey was too tired to thrash, his muscles screaming from the overnight, excruciating bondage, but he was screaming against his gag, hoping to get his sleeping captors’ attention so that they might wake up and let him go! This had gone on too fucking long, and all over a football match? It was ridiculous!

“Oh...fuck.” Brett’s eyes widened as he leaned over the side of the bed and saw Corey there, still hogtied, still gagged with tape wrapped around his face tightly, the knotted bandana still tied through his mouth. “MARC!” He got out of bed and ran across the hallway to Marc’s room, pounding on the door.

“What the fuck?” Marc asked, opening the door to his room, hair tousled, yawning as he pulled a shirt on over his bare chest. “I’m too fucking hungover for you to be this fucking loud.”

“Do you remember what we did last night?” Brett asked, an urgency to his tone that Marc was not used to hearing from his friend.

“Fragments, why?”

“Do you remember fucking kidnapping someone?!” Brett asked. “Because I didn’t, but there’s a blonde guy hogtied and gagged on my bedroom floor, and things are coming back to me in bits and pieces…”

“Oh...shit, shit, shit!” Marc’s eyes widened as the realization of their activities the night before dawned on him. “We fucking kidnapped someone last night!”

“What are we going to do?” Brett asked, raking a hand through his hair.

“I don’t know, Mr. Bondage Expert!” Marc snapped. “I’ve never fucking kidnapped someone before! You tell me!”

“I’ve never kidnapped anyone before, either! Everything I’ve done before has always been consensual! This is...something else entirely.”

“Alright, well let’s start off by talking to him, seeing if he can fucking be reasonable about the situation,” Marc said. “Bring him into the living room.”

“Okay.” Brett nodded, heading back to his room. “Come on, kid.” He lifted Corey and carried him into the shared living space, where Marc had been careful to make sure that no one could see through the windows.

“Nrm mnn mmphphnng mm gn?” Corey asked, hoping they were going to let him go...but why bother carrying him if they were just going to untie and release him?

“Shut up,” Brett said, depositing him on the couch, still hogtied. He leaned down to untie the rope hogtying their captive, unable to help from being slightly proud of himself - the knots were still secure, the hogtie was a job well done. He got a knife, cutting him free from the hogtie, but nothing else. His body was still wrapped in ropes.

Marc pulled Corey up into a sitting position, and while he was still bound tightly, sitting upright on the couch was definitely a massive relief from the position that he had been in all night.

“We’re going to take your gag off,” Brett said, pulling a chair up in front of the couch and sitting in front of Corey, while Marc sat beside him to make sure that there was absolutely no funny business. “And you’re not going to do anything stupid, like scream, is that clear?” He tried to add as much danger to his tone as possible, fighting through a gnarly hangover.

“Mmph.” Corey nodded. He was pretty sure that his throat was raw from screaming into his gag anyways, he wouldn’t be able to shout much, even if he tried. And right now, he was desperate for any relief from his strict bondage.

“Good.” Brett nodded, pulling at the tape around his mouth, quickly, and painfully for Corey, unwrapping it entirely from his head. “We mean it,” he warned as he tossed the tape aside. “So much as a partial scream, and the gag goes right back in, is that clear?” He said.

Corey nodded again. The knotted cleave gag was the only thing keeping him quiet now, and he wanted it out.

“Okay.” Brett nodded and pulled the gag from Corey’s mouth, letting it hang around his neck, wanting it close, in case it had to be forced back in quickly.

“Water, please!” Corey begged the second he was free of the gag.

“Alright.” Brett stood. “I’ll be right back.” He got up, heading to the kitchen to get the water.

“Please,” Corey turned, looking at Marc. “Please untie me, please let me go, please!”

Marc looked at him, not sure what to say at all. He didn’t want to make any choices or promises until Brett was back in the room.

“Just shut up,” Marc said, rolling his eyes. “We’ll talk when we’re all here, is that clear?”

“Yes.” Corey nodded. He may not be gagged anymore, but he knew that he still didn’t have the power here.

Brett returned with the water.

“Please untie me? I can hold the glass myself? Just my arms, anything, please?”

“No.” Brett shook his head. “Not yet, now stop begging and drink.” He put the glass to Corey’s lips, letting him drink the water thirstily.

“Are you going to let me go?” Corey asked, his tone full of apprehension, once he was finished with the water.

“Uh…” Brett rubbed the back of his neck, looking at Marc. “I’m not sure.”

“What?” Corey’s eyes went wide with fear. They weren’t going to let him go? But they had to! This was a prank gone wrong, they had to let him go!

“Yeah,” Brett said. “I’m not sure,” he repeated.

“No, please!” Corey looked between his two captors, desperate, his voice getting louder. “You have to let me go, please! You can’t do-Mmmph - nmm!” His words were cut off by Marc forcing a hand over his mouth, his palm pressing hard against Corey’s lips.

“You shut up,” he growled. “You’re not in the position to make choices here, and we can’t have you shouting and shouting! So we’ll tell you one more time, fucking keep your voice down, or you’ll be gagged again.”

“Mmph.” Corey nodded. He hadn’t meant to shout, but his fear had taken over. He knew that he wasn’t in control here.

“Okay.” Marc removed his hand, but he stayed close, ready to shut Cody up again if he needed to.

“Please let me go,” Corey said softly, being careful to keep his voice down. If he was too loud, and they gagged him again, he wouldn’t be able to make a case for himself. “Untie me, and let me walk out of here, and no one at all has to know that this was anything more than a friendly bet, okay?”

Brett considered what Corey was saying. After all, that was what they had told the people they had run into last night on their way home - that it was just a friendly bet, but they were way past that now. Sure, when they had gagged and tied him with the scarves, it could have been all fun and games, but they had picked him up, brought him here, and kept him captive all night. That was definitely against the law.

“I won’t tell anyone,” Corey said. “I promise. Please just let me go.”

“See, I don’t know,” Marc said. “I don’t know. We don’t know you, why should we trust you?”

“Because I’m sore, and exhausted, and I’m so tired, and I just want to go home. Please,” he begged, looking Brett in the eyes, pleading with him. “Please just let me go.”

“Yeah, I don’t think we can,” Brett said.

“What?” Corey began struggling in his ropes. “What do you mean?”

“Sorry, kid.”

“No, please!”

“Marc,” Brett said, gesturing to Corey.

“No, wait!” Corey knew what that meant, and he dodged, trying to get out of Marc’s way. “Plese, don’t gag me again, you don’t have to, I’ll be good, I’ll be quiet, I swear.”

“And why should we believe you?” Marc asked.

“Please don’t gag me again,” Corey said. “Please! You don’t have to gag me!”

“Maybe we don’t have to,” Marc smirked, forcing his hand back over Corey’s mouth. “But you’re a Celtic fan - you should all be gagged constantly, the lot of you.”

“I’m sorry, but you’ve seen our faces, you know where we live, you’ve probably heard our names...I just don’t think we can let you go,” Brett said.

“Nn! Hmmp! Mnn hnfm phn mmph mm gn! HMMP!” Corey struggled hard in Marc’s grip.

“Shut up!” Marc said, holding tight to Corey, as he struggled with all of the might that he had left - but after his night in bondage, it wasn’t enough, he was weak, compared to the larger man.

“MMMPH!” Corey jerked his head, trying to shake the hand off of his mouth, but Marc’s grip was tight, and his hand pushed down on Corey’s cheeks, greatly muffling his cries.

“Brett, we gotta fucking gag him again!” Marc said.

“I know.” He nodded, lifting the knotted bandana around Corey’s neck. “On the count of three?”

Marc nodded.

“One...two...three!”

“HEL-MMMP!” Corey’s cry for help was cut off as the knot went back between his teeth, and the gag was tied securely behind his head.

Now that he knew that he wasn’t being let go, however, he knew that he had to try and fight his captors tooth and nail to escape.

“HMMP MM! PHNMMHNNM HMMP MM!” He screamed against his gag as loudly as possible, and Marc forced his hand back over his mouth to try and muffle his cries even more. “PMMNPHM! HMMP! HMMP! HMMP!” Corey hated how much quieter the hand over his mouth made his screaming, and he jerked his body, trying to get free, but he knew it was of little use. He was in a bad situation, with seemingly no way to get out of it.

“Jesus christ,” Marc said. “Brett, we need to shut him up.”

“I know, I will!” He looked over at the table, where he had left all of his bondage supplies the night before. He grabbed another thick cloth. “Move your hand,” he said to Marc, who obeyed instantly.

Brett pulled the knot slightly out of his captive’s mouth, but not all the way. He fed the cloth into Corey’s mouth, stuffing it, before putting the knot all the way back in.

“Re-tie the bandana, really tightly,” he instructed his partner in crime.

Marc did as he was told, tying the bandana as tight as it would go behind Corey’s mouth, keeping his mouth securely stuffed.

“Pmmnphm phphnp!” Corey begged as Marc pressed his hand over his mouth once again.

While Corey struggled against Marc’s grip, Brett folded another cloth carefully, making sure it was flat, but still wide, and stood, holding it in his hands once he was finished. “Okay, hand off again,” he said to Marc. “I’m gonna tie this over his mouth.”

“Absolutely,” Marc said, nodding. He removed his hand.

“Pmmnphm nnn'ph gng mm nnmmnrm!” Corey said. Wasn’t he gagged enough already?

Still, his feeble cries were of little use, as the thick cloth was tied tightly over his already-gagged mouth.

“And finishing touches,” Brett said with a smirk. He lifted a roll of tape.

“Nn, pmmnm!” Corey shook his head, painfully aware of what was coming, but he had no choice. He closed his eyes, wincing as Brett wound the tape around his head again and again until the cloth tied over his mouth was no longer visible under the tape, and his cries were muffled and quiet.

“That should hold him,” Brett said with a smirk, dropping the remainder of the roll of tape on the table. “But we’re gonna need some better stuff to hold him if we’re going to hang on to him until we know what to do. More rope, more tape, maybe some handcuffs.”

“Yeah.” Marc nodded.

“Nn!” Corey shook his head, whimpering behind his strict gag.

“Don’t worry,” Brett said with a smirk. “We won’t leave you for long. Come on.” He picked the boy up and carried him into the hall closet. He set him down on the floor and closed the door.

Corey struggled, looking up at the doorknob. It was impossible to reach tied up like this, but maybe if he could somehow get free...He picked at the knots tying his wrists, looking up when he heard the front apartment door close, hoping that they had both left, and that this would be his chance to get free.

It was almost pitch dark in the closet, just a sliver of light coming in from below the door, and through the keyhole.

“Mmph, mmph.” He grunted against his gag as he twisted and pulled, trying to get himself free.

Corey had no idea how long he was working on his bonds before finally, he felt the ropes tying his wrists begin to come loose.

He worked quickly from there. Sure, it was very tricky untying his upper arms, even once his hands were free, but once that was done, he was able to use his hands to pull himself up by the doorknob of the closet. He opened the door, hoping beyond hope that both of his captors had left, and hopped towards the kitchen, where he grabbed a knife, cutting the rest of himself free. He reached for the tape on his gag, pulling it from his mouth as carefully as he could, tossing it aside. He pulled off the cloth tied over his mouth, and the one knotted and tied through it, and let them hang around his neck as he spit the stuffing out onto the floor. He saw his Celtic shirt on the floor, and grabbed it as he made a break for it,opening the front door, feeling the fresh air on his face for a second before running right into someone.

Brett and Marc’s next door neighbor, George Cassidy.

TBC

Looks like it wasn't Celtic's day today so no angry Rangers' fans for you!

Great continuation. Love the slow realisation of what they did the night before and the eventual decision to keep Corey bound and gagged to protect themselves.

So close to escape. I guess the question is what will Mr Cassidy do now? Which team does he support?

Oooooh cliffhanger. Really great so far

Really great story [mention]Smythdean[/mention]

Mr Cassidy is such an unknown, this could go either way for Corey

@Smythdean great story ! I love how the characters are described and interact. Great storyline and build up. Can't wait to read what happens next!

I did enjoy the excessive gag, but I am glad that Brett was able to escape (even if I'm not sure if he actually did). There don't seem to be many ways, how the two idiots are able to deal with this situation without a chance for trouble, which makes the whole situation feel pretty dark.

I'm curious how this plays out.

[mention]Smythdean[/mention] Oh damn, what an awesome cliff hanger to end chapter II on!
Our Celtic fan escapes, but who Mr Cassidy is definitely the wild card at the moment.

You have our full attention, buddy.

P.s- Hope you'll pay heed to the suggestion I gave you in my first comment.

Part 3

“Hello,” the man, maybe in his early 50s, looked Corey over, noticing the panicked look, and noting the two bandanas hanging around his neck, as well as the marks on his face from being gagged so much, he was quick to tell something was wrong. “Hey, are you alright?”

“I…” Corey gulped. His throat was dry from his gags, and he was exhausted and in pain from being tied up so much. “No, I don’t...I don’t think I am.”

“Okay, come on,” George gestured towards his flat. “I’ll make you a cup of tea, you can tell me what’s going on, and if you need help, we can call the police.”

“I...yeah, okay, thank you.” Corey nodded, still feeling disoriented from everything that was going on - a helping hand was nothing to sneeze at, especially not in his weakened state.

Corey followed George into his apartment, and the other man put the kettle on, preparing two cups of tea, while Corey sat down at the kitchen table.

“So,” George said, handing one of the mugs of tea over. “Do you want to tell me what’s going on?”

“I was kidnapped,” he said. “The two men in the apartment just across the way-”

“Brett and Marc?” George said.

Corey nodded wordlessly, taking a sip of tea - the hot liquid helping with his dry throat.

“I went over there last night, I thought I heard something,” he said, realization dawning.

“Yeah,” Corey nodded. “That was me, crying out for help, but they had me gagged.”

“The bandanas?” George said.

“What?” Corey looked down, realizing he still had both the knotted bandana, and the one that had been tied over his mouth, hanging around his neck. “Oh, yeah.”

“They must have had you gagged really tightly,” George said, brow furrowed. “Since you were muffled…”


“Cloth and tape,” Corey nodded, turning the mug in his hands. “This morning, they shoved a cloth in my mouth under the knotted bandana,” he said. “Then they tied it really tightly.

“And tied the other one over your mouth?” George guessed.

Corey nodded. “And wrapped tape over it,” he admitted.

“Damn, that’s...a lot to deal with. I’m sorry you had to go through that. They must have had you tied up, too.”

“Really well.” Corey nodded. “Fuck, I’m so sore.”

“I’ll tell you what.” George stood. “Let’s get these gags off of you, okay?” he moved behind Corey, untying the bandanas, and setting them on the table. “Why don’t you go to the bathroom, get cleaned up, and I’ll call the police so that you can file a proper report, okay?”

“God, yes, thank you. I don’t even know what happened to my phone.” Corey breathed a sigh of relief as the gags were removed. Even though they hadn’t been in his mouth anymore, just having them fully off was a relief. “Bathroom?”

“Second door on the right,” George said.

“Thank you.”

“Take your time,” he said, his tone kind.

Corey nodded, taking another sip of his tea before standing up, grabbing his Celtic shirt as he headed back for the bathroom. The first thing he did, once the door was closed, was swap out the Rangers shirt his captors had put on him for his own Celtic one, sighing deeply. He put his hands on the sink, looking at himself in the mirror.

His blonde hair was disheveled, and all over the place, his blue eyes tired from his trying night. He sighed, reaching up, touching one of the marks on his cheek left by the gags he’d endured.

“Jerks,” he sighed. He turned the sink on, splashing cold water in his face, taking deep breaths, processing everything. It was scary, but he was safe now, free of those assholes.

He was in the bathroom for several minutes, just calming down, enjoying the feeling of the cool water on his face, and smoothing his hair down a little. It had been a long night, but it was over now.

When he emerged, he found George in the kitchen. He sat back down, taking another sip of his tea.

“Did you get a hold of the police?” Corey asked.

“No.” George moved behind Corey, putting a hand over his mouth, and making sure that he saw the large knife that was in the other hand. “And I’m not going to be calling them.”

“MMMPH!” Corey let out a cry of surprise as he found himself, once again, silenced by a hand covering his mouth.

“Shhh,” George said, turning the knife slightly. “Now you’re going to be good, and do exactly as I say, is that clear?” he said, his tone far less kind than it had been to begin with.

“Mmm.” Corey nodded, gulping. The man had a knife, and Corey was still weak from his ordeal. There was no way he had a chance, so obeying seemed his only option.

“I’m going to take my hand off of your mouth,” he said. “And you’re not going to scream or cry out, is that understood?”

“Mmm.” Corey nodded again, eyes cast downwards. He was screwed. How was this happening again?

“Good.” George removed his hand.

“What are you doing?” Corey asked, keeping his voice low, the moment the hand was removed from his mouth.

“Keeping you from going to the police,” George said. “Brett and Marc may be flawed, but they look after my place when I’m gone, and one drunken mistake shouldn’t ruin their lives,” he said. He produced rope that he had gotten while Corey had been in the bathroom.

“Please don’t tie me up,” Corey begged. “Please, I promise I won’t tell anyone if you just let me go! I won’t rat them out, or...or you!” But even as he begged, his hands were being pulled behind him, behind the back of the chair, crossed, and tightly bound.

“Sorry, I really am,” George said. “But I just can’t do that. I don’t know you, I don’t trust you, so I’m going to tie you up and gag you until I know what to do with you.”

“No, please,” Corey begged, though he barely struggled as George moved on to his ankles, crouching below him and tying them to the legs of the chair. After all, he was bound, and George had a big knife… “Please, I don’t want to be tied up again.”

“You can beg all you want,” George said. “And I really am sorry to be putting you through more of this, but you’re going to be bound, you’re going to be gagged, and that’s that,” he said. “And thanks for telling me how those idiot boys kept you quiet,” he said. “I know how to tie a knot, but I don’t have much experience with gags.”

“Fuck.” Corey gulped, supposing he had walked right into that one. “Look, I get that you have to tie me up, I get it,” he said, doing his best not to struggle on instinct as George tied his shins to the tops of the chair legs, adding another level of restraint. “But you don’t have to gag me, aren't I proving now that I’ll be good? I’ll be quiet?”

“You are showing me that you can follow directions, yes,” he said. “But you’re not talking your way out of this one, boy, and soon, you won’t be talking at all...or at least not audibly.”

“No, please!” Corey said, fear rising in him. “My throat is already too dry to scream!”

“Look,” George stood up, frowning. “I have a knife, I have the things necessary to gag you, you’re going to be gagged, stop whining about it, or I’ll make it worse.”

Corey gulped, nodding.

“Now,” George said, wrapping ropes around Corey’s chest and arms, securing him tightly to the back of the chair. “I’m going to keep you bound until I figure out what to do, and you’ll be gagged most of the time, save for water breaks and food breaks here and there, is that understood?”

“Yes,” Corey said, feeling hopeless as George bound him tightly to the chair.

“While I’m here, we’ll stick to cloth gags, I think,” he said. “But if I have to leave while I still have you captive, I’m going to wrap tape around your mouth like those boys did,” he said.

“Please,” Corey begged. “The cloth will be enough.”

“Not your choice,” he said. “Luckily for you, I have no plans to leave today.” Though he would have to figure out what to do with this boy - he couldn’t keep him tied up in his apartment forever, he didn’t think.

“You don’t have to do this,” Corey begged, hoping for one last ditch attempt to get himself free.

“I’m afraid I do,” George said. “You’re already tied. I’m going to gag you soon. End of discussion.”

Corey fell silent. He wasn’t sure what else to say - George seemed to have made his mind up, and now that he was strictly bound to the chair, any chances of getting away were gone.

“Time for that gag, let’s see...” he said, moving in front of him. “Open your mouth, boy.”

Corey watched as George balled up the bandana that had earlier been tied over his mouth. He hesitated, but opened his mouth, knowing he had no other choice. He let out a slight whimper as George forced the cloth into his mouth.

“Now,” George said. “I think you’re familiar with this, hmm?” He lifted the still-knotted bandana from the table, and placed the knot in Corey’s already gagged mouth. “Nice and comforting, yeah?” he asked as he tied the gag behind his head. “Hopefully that will be some assurance to you.”

It was odd - his tone made it seem like he really did hope it would be of some comfort, but Corey found no comfort in the now-familiar gag.

“Pmmnphm, mnn nnn'ph hnfm phn nn phhnph…” Even his pleas against the gag were lack-luster, as a new, white cloth was brought forwards.

“Finishing touches,” he said, folding the cloth. “If the boys thought your gag needed layers, well, they seem to know more than I do.” He pressed the cloth over Corey’s gagged mouth, tying it tightly, double checking to make sure the knot was secure.

Once George was done with the gag, he stood back, looking at Corey, sighing slightly.

“Mmmph?” Corey looked up at him.

“I really am sorry to be doing this to you,” George said. “But I can’t risk those boys going to jail. As reckless as they can be, I’ve grown fond of them.”

“PHn mnn'rm nnphph gnnng phn hmmp mm phnmn np hmrm?!” Corey wriggled slightly in his bonds, but they were extremely tight - George had been right about knowing how to tie knots.

“Sorry, I caught...none of that,” George said. “But we’ll just have to see what comes next. I’m going to do a little research.”

As George walked out of the room, Corey twisted in his bonds, shifting, trying to see if there was any way he could get out of them. After a couple minutes of exhausted struggling, he realized that he wasn’t going anywhere.

Once again, he was bound, gagged, and totally stuck.

“Mmph.” He bowed his head, trying to stay calm as he resigned himself to his current predicament. After all...there was nothing else he could do.



This is as far as the commissioned piece goes. I would like to continue it myself. So I’m open to any ideas themes people may like to see.

Thanks for part 3. This is a great story. I love the fact he thinks he has escaped and the person he trusts is helping him has now got him.

Perhaps he needs to be blindfolded? Maybe police come to ask about the missing guy, after searching the other mens room and ask this guy if he saw anything suspicious? Inside his apartment the captive guy can hear them and tries to get their attention.

Maybe he can be hidden in a closet, or crammed into a small cupboard while someone comes to see the older man?

really hope you do a part 4!

[mention]Smythdean[/mention] didn't comment before since I've read your story before so I kept postponing rereading it hehe but now that it's "done" I'm gotta say you did a good job! I really enjoyed it abd am glad that you're willing to continue!

As for what happens next, I second [mention]GaggedGuy[/mention] ideas, love for George to keep hiding Corey, but I'm also thinking long term (aka. The ending). I see both points of the issue: Brett and Marc shouldn't go to jail for this but they shouldn't be able to walk free and George can't keep Corey forever. Maybe he can booker an understanding between both groups. Corey forgives them and it's alowed to go, but also George makes sure those idiots have some sort of punishment . That way everyone wins!

But well, that's my opinion! I'm sure that whatever you decide to do will be awesome! Great story overall!

[mention]Smythdean[/mention] Can't wait for you to continue this, buddy.

With Mr. Cassidy taking an active role in this, the story could go so many ways!
Take your time and think about it. Whatever you come up with, we're bound to have fun

Any chance we will find out what happens next?

Part 4

Mr. Cassidy didn’t need to be researching long to realize that they were in a pickle. Kidnapping was a fairly serious crime, and even if he let Corey go now, Marc and Brett - and himself - could be on the hook with some pretty serious charges.

That was less than ideal.

With a sigh, Mr. Cassidy shut his computer off, heading back to the kitchen where Corey sat in his chair. His ropes held - his wrists crossed and bound tightly behind his back with more ropes binding his torso to the back of the chair, crossed over his Celtic Football Club shirt. His ankles were still secured firmly to the chair legs, and he had not succeeded at all in loosening his gag.

The white cloth over his mouth held in both a knotted cleave gag and a wad of bandana stuffing, and maybe Mr. Cassidy hadn’t known much about gags before, but he felt he was learning quickly.

He stood across from Corey, keeping his gaze trained on the blonde.

“I’m afraid I have some bad news,” he said.

“Mmmph?” Corey spoke against his gag, looked at his captor, fear in his blue eyes. His captor sounded genuinely remorseful, and Corey was still not used to that.

If he felt so badly, why was he keeping Corey tied up and gagged?

“I'm willing to remove your gag and have a cordial conversation, but if you get any ideas about screaming your head off, I will have no choice but to gag you again.” Mr. Cassidy looked directly at his captive. “Do you understand?”

“Mmmph.” Corey nodded, desperate to be free of his gag, even if that meant following this man’s instructions.

“Alright.” Mr. Cassidy walked behind the young man. He untied the cloth covering his mouth and set it carefully on the table, sure that he would be needing it to gag Corey again. He pulled the cleave gag from his mouth, letting it hang around Corey’s neck as it had been when Corey had arrived here. He allowed Corey to spit the bandana out, and set that, too, aside. “Are you thirsty?”

“Yes,” Corey said. “Please, can I have some water?”

“Of course.” Mr. Cassidy went to the sink, pouring a glass of water. He brought it over and put it to Corey’s lips, allowing him to drink the entire thing.

When Corey was finished, Mr. Cassidy set the glass in the sink to be cleaned later, and walked back over to the table, sitting down across from Corey.

“So it seems kidnapping is a fairly…criminal offense.”

“I won’t tell a soul,” Corey stated. “No one has to know you held me hostage. No one has to know you tied me up and gagged me, no one has to know your neighbors kidnapped me! I don’t want trouble, I just want to go home.”

“That’s just it,” Mr. Cassidy said. “Even if I did believe you, which unfortunately I’m not sure I do, I don’t feel this is my decision to make. I really am sorry -” he stopped short. “I’ve just realized I don’t know your name.”

“Corey,” the young man said quickly, hoping that having a name would humanize him to his captor.

“I really am sorry, Corey,” he said. “But I just can’t make this choice for the boys next door, so we’re going to have to consult them.”

“I escaped from them,” Corey said. “They never have to know you even had me.”

“That’s just a chance I can’t take. I won’t be letting you go, not without talking it through with them. I’m afraid if you continue to talk in circles, begging for release, you will give me no choice but to gag you again. Immediately.” He sighed, clearly not thrilled with this course of action. “Please don’t make me gag you before I have to.”

“I won’t,” Corey said softly. He wanted to take every un-gagged chance he could to beg for release, but Mr. Cassidy had made it clear that if he did, the gag would go right back on, and he was tired of it. He had been bound and gagged for hours and hours on end, and if he could be free of any part of it, even for a few minutes, he didn’t care to jeopardize that.

“Good.” Mr. Cassidy nodded. “I’ll call them and get them over here, and as a unit, we will decide what to do with you. I wish things were different, I really do, but Brett and Marc are good guys. They’re trouble makers, but inside, they’re good. One drunken mistake shouldn’t ruin their lives…as foolish as it was. I’m sure you’re a nice boy, but I don’t know you. I do know them, and at the end of the day, I have to protect them.”

He was definitely going to have to have a talk with them about crossing lines - kidnapping being a major line that ought not be crossed.

Corey gulped, his jaw setting. He wanted to promise Mr. Cassidy again that he would say nothing - and right now, exhausted, sore, and scared, he genuinely didn’t think he would, not if it would guarantee his freedom.

He had merely wanted to celebrate his Celtics victory, and now he was tied to a chair, still in his Celtics shirt, unsure when, or if he would experience freedom again.

“I won’t keep you waiting for a decision longer than I have to,” Mr. Cassidy assured Corey. “I will call them right now and tell them it is of the utmost importance that they get here quickly, but I can’t guarantee one outcome or another.”

“I understand,” Corey said, casting his eyes down at the table.

He wasn’t sure what other options might be on the table, other than his release, and he was trying not to let himself think about what those might be.

“Good.” Mr. Cassidy pulled out his cellphone and stood up. “I’m truly sorry about this, but I can’t have you screaming while I make the call. I’m going to have to gag you.”

Corey gulped, ready for cloth to be shoved back into his mouth, and indeed it was. Mr. Cassidy pushed the knotted bandana back into Corey’s mouth, tying it tightly behind his head.

Brett came up first alphabetically, and Mr. Cassidy hit ‘dial’, not realizing that Brett had let his phone die the night before, and in his hurry to get more supplies for his captive, had not taken the time to charge it.

“Brett, this is your neighbor George Cassidy, call me back immediately. It is an emergency.” He sighed and hung up, hoping that Marc would answer.

“Hey, now’s not really a good time,” Marc picked up on the second ring.

“Trust me,” Mr. Cassidy stated. “Now is the only time. You have a problem. You fools made a mess, and I’m trying to help you clean it up, but I need your assistance.”

“What do you mean?” Marc asked.

“Oh, perhaps a certain blonde Celtics fan that you kidnapped, tied up, gagged, and then left in your apartment to escape?”

“Oh fuck.” Marc gulped. “Oh shit, fuck.”

“I’ve apprehended him for you,” Mr. Cassidy said. “He’s tied to a chair in my kitchen and I’ve been keeping him gagged, but you two need to come here immediately to help solve this predicament.”

Corey wriggled in the chair, trying to get comfortable as the cloth gag pulled at the corners of his mouth.

“Look, we took the bus to the shops to get more stuff to, you know,” he lowered his voice. “Keep him tied up and gagged. We’ll get back as soon as we can.” He left out that both of them had felt too hungover to drive.

Mr. Cassidy sighed. “No, the buses run less frequently on the weekends, I’ll come get you. Just stay where you are. I’ll gag him properly and be right there.”

“Yeah, okay.” Marc nodded. “I…thank you, Mr. Cassidy, we know we fucked up.”

“Don’t thank me yet, this is going to be an interesting predicament to get out of. I’m on my way.”

He hung up and pocketed his phone, turning his attention back to Corey.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I have to go get them, which means I’m going to have to gag you well and good again. I can’t take any chances.”

Mr. Cassidy pulled the knotted bandana out of Corey’s mouth, but Corey knew it wouldn’t be long before the gag was back in.

“I suppose it’s no use telling you I won’t scream, and that you don’t have to gag me?” Corey asked, looking up at Mr. Cassidy.

“You know the rules. Gagged with cloth while I figure out what to do with you. Tape gag on top of it if I have to leave you here alone.”

Corey was too exhausted to fight more, and while he had picked at the knots binding his wrists while Mr. Cassidy had been in the other room, he had gotten nowhere. Brett may have had bondage experience, but Mr. Cassidy certainly knew his way around a knot.

“Open your mouth up, the sooner I gag you, the sooner we can figure out what comes next.”

Corey hated how obedient he was, but he felt he had no choice. He opened his mouth, accepting the stuffing for his gag as the bandana was shoved right back into his mouth. Mr. Cassidy then pulled the knotted cleave gag from around Corey’s neck, shoving it back in his mouth to keep the stuffing in. He re-did the knot, making sure the gag was nice and tight. Then, he took the white cloth and tied it over Corey’s mouth, making the knots equally tight.

“Mmmph,” Corey couldn’t help but wince as the gag went back on, bowing his head, ashamed of his situation.

“We’re not done yet,” Mr. Cassidy reminded, rummaging around in his kitchen drawers and returning with a roll of duct tape. “I have to tape gag you. Lift your head.”

Obediently, Corey did so, sitting still as Mr. Cassidy wound the tape seven times around his head, completely covering the cloth gag, and pressing the fabric against Corey’s lips, ensuring that any cries he did choose to make against his strict, layered gag, were severely muffled.

“I really am sorry to have to do this to you,” Mr. Cassidy said, looking apologetically at his gagged captive.

Corey said nothing, shuddering as Mr. Cassidy moved behind him, checking all of the knots binding him to the chair, making sure they were tight.

“Please don’t put up a fight and try to escape,” he said. “The shops aren’t far, you won’t get free of your knots or your gag, and if you prove that you were obedient, maybe we have a better chance of being able to let you go.”

“Mmmph.” Corey nodded, dejected.

Mr. Cassidy nodded, then grabbed his car keys and left the apartment, locking the door behind him, and hoping that Corey wouldn’t do anything foolish. He felt awful keeping him prisoner like this, and he didn’t want Corey to do anything that made things worse.

It didn’t take long to get to the shops Marc had directed him to, and when he pulled up, he saw them immediately.

“Get in,” he said, waving them over, annoyed.

Marc got in the front seat, and Brett got in the back with the bag of supplies that they had purchased.

“We didn’t mean to do it,” Marc said instantly. “We were drunk, the Rangers had lost, he was being a celebratory little-”

“The why isn’t really important at this point,” Mr. Cassidy said. “But you’ve done something that is difficult to take back, and we have a tricky situation on our hands now. I have a young man tied to a chair and gagged in my apartment, and we have to figure out what we’re going to do with him next. What you’ve done to him already only matters in that it can get you - and now me - in trouble.”

“You didn’t have to take him,” Brett said. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, I’m extremely grateful, but you didn’t have to…”

“I know, but as much trouble as you two are, you help me out around the house when I need it, and you are good guys deep down, I’m sure of it. We will figure out how to deal with this. I didn’t feel comfortable making any unilateral decisions, but I truly believe we can’t keep him tied up and gagged in our apartments forever. We need to find a way to move forward.”

“I know,” Marc said miserably. “I can’t believe we’re in this situation.”

“Frankly, I can’t either,” Mr. Cassidy said. These young men were foolish for what they had done, but dwelling on the past wouldn’t help them out of this predicament, nor would it help Corey out of his. “However, I think he can be reasoned with, so we are going to go back to my place, I’ll put the kettle on, we’ll have a cup of tea, and discuss where to go from there.”

Brett nodded silently from the back seat. It was unfortunate that their neighbor had been brought into this, but he did feel a slight twinge of gratitude to the man for protecting them.

The rest of the drive was quiet. Brett and Marc felt conflicted about what they had done, and Mr. Cassidy saw no use in berating them further. They knew they had messed up.

All that mattered now was how they were going to fix it.

“Alright,” Mr. Cassidy said as he parked the car. “Let’s go clean up your mess.”

Brett and Marc followed him from the car to this apartment, waiting as Mr. Cassidy turned the key in the lock.

The two young men entered the apartment, flanking Mr. Cassidy as they made their way to the kitchen, where Corey remained as he had been left, tied to the chair, and tightly gagged.

“Mmmph?” Corey gulped, looking up anxiously at his three kidnappers.

His fate was in their hands, and he didn’t know what to expect.

Totally forgot I read this before I became a more active member here. Even gave it a re read since its been awhile.

Will Cory be freed? Will his captors receive punishment? Curious to see how this plays out!!

I really want to be a prisoner instead of Corey

Just saw this story...Love it!

Honestly, I love this story so much I might be willing to pay the last part of the commission if you were able to finish it!