My neighbor is a little Psycho (M/m)
Posted: Mon Oct 06, 2025 5:07 pm
Note: This story is based on one of my favorite stories written by my friend Bondwriter. I wanted to honor him by writing my own version.
Well, this is my story. Since I was a little boy, my parents introduced me to the world of modeling, thanks to my good looks, according to them. My parents saw me as a gold mine. I mainly modeled for children's clothing companies, although I also appeared in toy commercials and, as a teenager, in commercials for drinks and similar products. And to be honest, I liked that world. Being surrounded by cameras and spotlights was great in a way; it made me feel important, like I was the center of the universe. Because of that, I was a hateful and conceited kid throughout elementary and middle school.
When I turned 18, modeling opportunities increased, although a very peculiar proposal reminded me of my strange tastes in entertainment. As a child, I had strange fantasies in which I always ended up tied up and gagged, whether in a home robbery, a kidnapping, or a prank by a friend at school. Because of my job, I had to take care of my image and never had the opportunity to explore those kinds of games, not even with myself. Which brings us to the following. A bondage company became interested in me, and the rest is history.
I worked making that kind of content for five years until I finally got bored. With all the money I had earned as a model since I was a child, I decided to leave the world of cameras and spotlights and moved to a neighborhood on my own. It was a very nice residential area and, according to the salesperson, most of the residents were elderly people, young singles, or newlyweds, so I didn't have to worry about annoying children. Don't get me wrong, I don't hate children, but I never learned to get along with them. I didn't have any siblings, and no one liked me at school, so I never had any close friends.
Everything was peaceful, and I was very happy with my new life as a 24-year-old independent bachelor, until suddenly one night, someone rang my doorbell. It was unusual; I wasn't expecting anyone, but I went out to see who it was. When I opened the door, I found a tiny figure compared to my size; I was almost six feet tall. It was definitely a child, I estimated him to be at least 10 years old. The boy was dressed in a blue hoodie, from which a strand of dark blond hair peeked out. I couldn't see the rest of his face; he was wearing a red bandana that covered his nose and chin, giving him the appearance of a cowboy thief or something like that. His intense blue eyes seemed to shine above the bandana covering his face. He was also wearing shorts, sneakers, and white knee-high socks.
I didn't know what to say when I saw him. I was so surprised by his strange clothing, especially the bandana. I was expecting some mischief and honestly felt disappointed. I thought there were no children in that neighborhood.
"Do you need something, kid?" I asked him. He shook his head and without warning entered the house.
"Hey, hey! What's wrong with you? Why are you coming into my house like that? Didn't your parents teach you manners?”
The boy made a strange noise, almost like a moan, but he didn't say anything. Instead, he reached into one of the pockets of his cargo shorts, pulled out a folded piece of paper, and handed it to me. I closed the door—I don't know why I did it—and took the note before opening it. There was something written in the handwriting of a boy his age:
"Dear neighbor, my name is Rodrigo. I know you because I've been following your photos and videos on the internet. You look very good tied up and gagged; you are my inspiration. Anyway, I'm an only child and my parents work all day and sometimes go away on trips for up to three days, so I spend a lot of time alone at home, but now that you're here, I thought you might want to kidnap me and keep me prisoner in your basement. I've done some research and I know you have a basement in your house..."
I stopped reading and looked at him. He noticed my look of dismay and seemed to smile with his bright eyes. Still, out of curiosity, I continued reading:
"...I know it seems like a very strange proposal, but I assure you we'll have fun. But I warn you that if you refuse, I'll say you tried to kidnap me and I'll report you to the police. I'll show them your photos on the internet and say you wanted to do the same thing to me. The police will believe everything I say; after all, the law is on the side of children."
I couldn't believe what was happening. I got very nervous. What kind of psychopathic kid does that? That kid would falsely accuse me of child abduction if I didn't actually kidnap him. I would go to jail anyway if I didn't give in to his demands. I approached him and with one swipe pulled his bandana down to his neck, revealing his face, and then I knew why he was so quiet. The boy was effectively gagged with many layers of tape surrounding his mouth and head. The gag was smooth, almost wrinkle-free, indicating that the boy had applied those layers of silver duct tape with great care. From the shape of the gag, I guessed there was some kind of filling inside his mouth.
"Kid, are you crazy? What are you trying to do? There's no way I'm going to do what you're asking me to do. That's wrong," I said. He shrugged and pointed to the note, reminding me of his threat if I refused.
I sighed. I was desperate and losing my patience. I had to solve this problem. I bent down to his face.
"Listen to me. I'm going to remove all that tape from your face so we can talk and come to an agreement." The boy shook his head frantically.
"Don't worry, I'll gag you again when we're done. I'm sure I have plenty of rolls of duct tape in the basement. Do we have a deal?" The boy hesitated for a moment, and then we shook hands to seal the deal. I reached my hand up to his sealed mouth to find the edge of the tape, which was well hidden at the back of his neck. I slowly unwound every inch of duct tape that the boy had put over his mouth, calculating about five turns. When I finished, the boy spat out a gray cloth ball soaked in saliva, presumably one of his socks. His face was very red and marked by the tape. Without the bandana, gag, and hood, I could fully appreciate my strange visitor. Somehow that boy reminded me of myself when I was his age, not only because of the physical resemblance, but also because of his strange taste for being tied up and gagged.
Well, this is my story. Since I was a little boy, my parents introduced me to the world of modeling, thanks to my good looks, according to them. My parents saw me as a gold mine. I mainly modeled for children's clothing companies, although I also appeared in toy commercials and, as a teenager, in commercials for drinks and similar products. And to be honest, I liked that world. Being surrounded by cameras and spotlights was great in a way; it made me feel important, like I was the center of the universe. Because of that, I was a hateful and conceited kid throughout elementary and middle school.
When I turned 18, modeling opportunities increased, although a very peculiar proposal reminded me of my strange tastes in entertainment. As a child, I had strange fantasies in which I always ended up tied up and gagged, whether in a home robbery, a kidnapping, or a prank by a friend at school. Because of my job, I had to take care of my image and never had the opportunity to explore those kinds of games, not even with myself. Which brings us to the following. A bondage company became interested in me, and the rest is history.
I worked making that kind of content for five years until I finally got bored. With all the money I had earned as a model since I was a child, I decided to leave the world of cameras and spotlights and moved to a neighborhood on my own. It was a very nice residential area and, according to the salesperson, most of the residents were elderly people, young singles, or newlyweds, so I didn't have to worry about annoying children. Don't get me wrong, I don't hate children, but I never learned to get along with them. I didn't have any siblings, and no one liked me at school, so I never had any close friends.
Everything was peaceful, and I was very happy with my new life as a 24-year-old independent bachelor, until suddenly one night, someone rang my doorbell. It was unusual; I wasn't expecting anyone, but I went out to see who it was. When I opened the door, I found a tiny figure compared to my size; I was almost six feet tall. It was definitely a child, I estimated him to be at least 10 years old. The boy was dressed in a blue hoodie, from which a strand of dark blond hair peeked out. I couldn't see the rest of his face; he was wearing a red bandana that covered his nose and chin, giving him the appearance of a cowboy thief or something like that. His intense blue eyes seemed to shine above the bandana covering his face. He was also wearing shorts, sneakers, and white knee-high socks.
I didn't know what to say when I saw him. I was so surprised by his strange clothing, especially the bandana. I was expecting some mischief and honestly felt disappointed. I thought there were no children in that neighborhood.
"Do you need something, kid?" I asked him. He shook his head and without warning entered the house.
"Hey, hey! What's wrong with you? Why are you coming into my house like that? Didn't your parents teach you manners?”
The boy made a strange noise, almost like a moan, but he didn't say anything. Instead, he reached into one of the pockets of his cargo shorts, pulled out a folded piece of paper, and handed it to me. I closed the door—I don't know why I did it—and took the note before opening it. There was something written in the handwriting of a boy his age:
"Dear neighbor, my name is Rodrigo. I know you because I've been following your photos and videos on the internet. You look very good tied up and gagged; you are my inspiration. Anyway, I'm an only child and my parents work all day and sometimes go away on trips for up to three days, so I spend a lot of time alone at home, but now that you're here, I thought you might want to kidnap me and keep me prisoner in your basement. I've done some research and I know you have a basement in your house..."
I stopped reading and looked at him. He noticed my look of dismay and seemed to smile with his bright eyes. Still, out of curiosity, I continued reading:
"...I know it seems like a very strange proposal, but I assure you we'll have fun. But I warn you that if you refuse, I'll say you tried to kidnap me and I'll report you to the police. I'll show them your photos on the internet and say you wanted to do the same thing to me. The police will believe everything I say; after all, the law is on the side of children."
I couldn't believe what was happening. I got very nervous. What kind of psychopathic kid does that? That kid would falsely accuse me of child abduction if I didn't actually kidnap him. I would go to jail anyway if I didn't give in to his demands. I approached him and with one swipe pulled his bandana down to his neck, revealing his face, and then I knew why he was so quiet. The boy was effectively gagged with many layers of tape surrounding his mouth and head. The gag was smooth, almost wrinkle-free, indicating that the boy had applied those layers of silver duct tape with great care. From the shape of the gag, I guessed there was some kind of filling inside his mouth.
"Kid, are you crazy? What are you trying to do? There's no way I'm going to do what you're asking me to do. That's wrong," I said. He shrugged and pointed to the note, reminding me of his threat if I refused.
I sighed. I was desperate and losing my patience. I had to solve this problem. I bent down to his face.
"Listen to me. I'm going to remove all that tape from your face so we can talk and come to an agreement." The boy shook his head frantically.
"Don't worry, I'll gag you again when we're done. I'm sure I have plenty of rolls of duct tape in the basement. Do we have a deal?" The boy hesitated for a moment, and then we shook hands to seal the deal. I reached my hand up to his sealed mouth to find the edge of the tape, which was well hidden at the back of his neck. I slowly unwound every inch of duct tape that the boy had put over his mouth, calculating about five turns. When I finished, the boy spat out a gray cloth ball soaked in saliva, presumably one of his socks. His face was very red and marked by the tape. Without the bandana, gag, and hood, I could fully appreciate my strange visitor. Somehow that boy reminded me of myself when I was his age, not only because of the physical resemblance, but also because of his strange taste for being tied up and gagged.
Sayers. It's a great premise for a story that I hope you will expand. We must see who gets their way Rodrigo or Rodrigo (I'm hoping for Rodrigo). 
