YourCaptor's captives: Jake (m\m)
Posted: Thu Jan 01, 2026 3:30 am
When I was very young I had a speech impediment. Minor, hardly noticeable. But my father decided to put it to rest. One day, asked him for one of his shirts to wear. I loved how they flopped loosely over me, and how it was like carrying a piece of him. Well I couldn't say shirt properly. His solution was to put me in a headlock and not let me go until I did things properly. This laid the impression early and strongly that the clever application of leverage was all one needed to stimulate growth. It's not really any wonder scenes of men physically restrained held such intense focus in my young mind...
Flash forward about ten years, and I am a tall, thin, deceptively strong blond lad who usually stays to himself. My parents tried to find me places where I could hang out with people my age, and I had two major influences; karate, and church. Between my father the veteran, the hierarchical structure of a dojo, and the emphasis of moral codes within churches, it wasn't surprising that I became rigid, with an extremely demanding personal code of conduct. That's why me and Jake were trusted to be alone cleaning up the church. I had additional plans in mind.
Jake was an all-american; about a year younger than me, he was universally liked, hard working, handsome with a chiseled physique, talent in football and music, and a fairly level head on his shoulders. But yet I had noticed that Jake treated me like a white belt might treat a black belt, or a private might treat a lieutenant. It didn't hurt that I was a martial artist about a foot taller than him, but there was something very genuine, not fearful.
We finished up cleaning and I pulled him aside, into a hallway upstairs. He dutifully followed, not sure what was in my bag. "So we've been talking for a while about faith, and...I wanted to give you an example of what that looks like." I said, trying to hold back the adrenaline. He merely nodded. It was true; I always had a knack for studying religion and would occasionally help guide some of the hooligans back into good standing. Jake wasn't like that, however. But in the back of his mind, I could tell there were doubts, searching. He wanted something real and concrete. So, I finally decided to test the lesson my father taught me.
"So...faith is about doing something when you can't necessarily see "the end result, or waiting and hoping when you can't do anything."
"Makes sense."
"So...I'm gonna tie you up."
Jake smirked with a nervous snort-laugh, eyes gradually widening in surprise. "Ok." he half asked, half stated.
At this point, my whole system is running on all cylinders. I blindfold him first, reiterating that sometimes in life, you won't know what's ahead of you. He gave another of his half-hearted responses. "Take your shirt off." I said plainly.
I'll never forget how his hands immediately lifted up in obedience, then paused only after he had begun. I could see the gears grinding in his head, but he stayed quiet, and eventually finished his task, tossing his orange football team t-shirt off to the side. I could tell a shift had already begun. He felt the vulnerability, the uncertainty; he had become exactly as destabilized as I hoped. I took a long piece of cloth and tied his wrists behind his back.
After a moment, he sighed, and disgruntled, said "I feel like I'm getting hogtied." I laughed at the unexpected but welcome moment of levity. Then, I gently pushed him onto is knees and bound his ankles. "Oh, I AM getting hogtied!" At this we shared a laugh. Jake was showing me a lot of trust, and I felt an overwhelming sense of responsibility and protectiveness for him.
"Yeah, hogtied. Cause sometimes you want to go somewhere, but faith is telling you to stay put." He nodded solemnly. The situation forced him to actually feel the blindness and lack of power that often births faith out of necessity. "And sometimes having faith means feels like not being able to say what you want to say."
He cocked his head. "Am I getting gagged?" I answered by ripping a piece of the role of tape I had managed to scrounge up. "Yup." Were his last words before I pressed the shiny strip across his lips. He had been stoic throughout, but something about being gagged made him grunt, and tense up. He held back his frustrations though, which I noted and appreciated.
"And sometimes faith means going places you didn't expect." With this, I lifted my very first captive over my shoulders and headed for the boiler room.
Imagine being in his shoes. A sharp, but often distant, even awkward boy, a bit older and much taller than you, who you show respects you, decides out of nowhere to strip you of your shirt and make you his prisoner. Miraculously, Jake only let out a few grunts as I carried him to the dark concrete of the boiler room. I couldn't help but smile, but also offered him encouragement, and promised it would make sense eventually.
I sat him down next to a pipe on a relatively clean patch of ground and strapped him to the pipe with one of my belts. No moaning came from my prisoner, and his breathing was calm. "Finally, sometimes faith feels like being alone."
With that, I stepped out. I didn't have the sensitivity to realize at the time, but I was showing him what loneliness, what my loneliness, felt like. On the one hand, this was a sincere message of faith (which he claims helped him take his beliefs more seriously afterwards) but on the other, it was my first real human connection. My first moment of bonding, if you'll forgive the required put.
I breathed a heavy sigh, victorious, before going up to slowly gather my captive's shirt. When I returned, I knew he was extremely focused and antsy to get let go, but he maintained his composure well. Still, I used the fact that I had a captive audience to my advantage. I discussed stories of faith from the bible, and how most of the hallmarks are of people who went through intense trials and difficulties, where the felt isolated, cut off, restricted, silenced. He hung on every word. He was living it.
Finally, I get to the next verse, Hebrews 12: 1 "Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles." With that, I untied him.
He shrunk away from me a bit as he rubbed his wrists, but he was beaming. It's like I had just unlocked something primal within him that he was still unsure how to wrestle with. Immediately I noticed him more responsive, attentive, and even obedient. I let him get dressed and playfully bullied him a bit, laughing back and forth between us. That was a beginning for both us young men that day.
Flash forward about ten years, and I am a tall, thin, deceptively strong blond lad who usually stays to himself. My parents tried to find me places where I could hang out with people my age, and I had two major influences; karate, and church. Between my father the veteran, the hierarchical structure of a dojo, and the emphasis of moral codes within churches, it wasn't surprising that I became rigid, with an extremely demanding personal code of conduct. That's why me and Jake were trusted to be alone cleaning up the church. I had additional plans in mind.
Jake was an all-american; about a year younger than me, he was universally liked, hard working, handsome with a chiseled physique, talent in football and music, and a fairly level head on his shoulders. But yet I had noticed that Jake treated me like a white belt might treat a black belt, or a private might treat a lieutenant. It didn't hurt that I was a martial artist about a foot taller than him, but there was something very genuine, not fearful.
We finished up cleaning and I pulled him aside, into a hallway upstairs. He dutifully followed, not sure what was in my bag. "So we've been talking for a while about faith, and...I wanted to give you an example of what that looks like." I said, trying to hold back the adrenaline. He merely nodded. It was true; I always had a knack for studying religion and would occasionally help guide some of the hooligans back into good standing. Jake wasn't like that, however. But in the back of his mind, I could tell there were doubts, searching. He wanted something real and concrete. So, I finally decided to test the lesson my father taught me.
"So...faith is about doing something when you can't necessarily see "the end result, or waiting and hoping when you can't do anything."
"Makes sense."
"So...I'm gonna tie you up."
Jake smirked with a nervous snort-laugh, eyes gradually widening in surprise. "Ok." he half asked, half stated.
At this point, my whole system is running on all cylinders. I blindfold him first, reiterating that sometimes in life, you won't know what's ahead of you. He gave another of his half-hearted responses. "Take your shirt off." I said plainly.
I'll never forget how his hands immediately lifted up in obedience, then paused only after he had begun. I could see the gears grinding in his head, but he stayed quiet, and eventually finished his task, tossing his orange football team t-shirt off to the side. I could tell a shift had already begun. He felt the vulnerability, the uncertainty; he had become exactly as destabilized as I hoped. I took a long piece of cloth and tied his wrists behind his back.
After a moment, he sighed, and disgruntled, said "I feel like I'm getting hogtied." I laughed at the unexpected but welcome moment of levity. Then, I gently pushed him onto is knees and bound his ankles. "Oh, I AM getting hogtied!" At this we shared a laugh. Jake was showing me a lot of trust, and I felt an overwhelming sense of responsibility and protectiveness for him.
"Yeah, hogtied. Cause sometimes you want to go somewhere, but faith is telling you to stay put." He nodded solemnly. The situation forced him to actually feel the blindness and lack of power that often births faith out of necessity. "And sometimes having faith means feels like not being able to say what you want to say."
He cocked his head. "Am I getting gagged?" I answered by ripping a piece of the role of tape I had managed to scrounge up. "Yup." Were his last words before I pressed the shiny strip across his lips. He had been stoic throughout, but something about being gagged made him grunt, and tense up. He held back his frustrations though, which I noted and appreciated.
"And sometimes faith means going places you didn't expect." With this, I lifted my very first captive over my shoulders and headed for the boiler room.
Imagine being in his shoes. A sharp, but often distant, even awkward boy, a bit older and much taller than you, who you show respects you, decides out of nowhere to strip you of your shirt and make you his prisoner. Miraculously, Jake only let out a few grunts as I carried him to the dark concrete of the boiler room. I couldn't help but smile, but also offered him encouragement, and promised it would make sense eventually.
I sat him down next to a pipe on a relatively clean patch of ground and strapped him to the pipe with one of my belts. No moaning came from my prisoner, and his breathing was calm. "Finally, sometimes faith feels like being alone."
With that, I stepped out. I didn't have the sensitivity to realize at the time, but I was showing him what loneliness, what my loneliness, felt like. On the one hand, this was a sincere message of faith (which he claims helped him take his beliefs more seriously afterwards) but on the other, it was my first real human connection. My first moment of bonding, if you'll forgive the required put.
I breathed a heavy sigh, victorious, before going up to slowly gather my captive's shirt. When I returned, I knew he was extremely focused and antsy to get let go, but he maintained his composure well. Still, I used the fact that I had a captive audience to my advantage. I discussed stories of faith from the bible, and how most of the hallmarks are of people who went through intense trials and difficulties, where the felt isolated, cut off, restricted, silenced. He hung on every word. He was living it.
Finally, I get to the next verse, Hebrews 12: 1 "Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles." With that, I untied him.
He shrunk away from me a bit as he rubbed his wrists, but he was beaming. It's like I had just unlocked something primal within him that he was still unsure how to wrestle with. Immediately I noticed him more responsive, attentive, and even obedient. I let him get dressed and playfully bullied him a bit, laughing back and forth between us. That was a beginning for both us young men that day.
churches
