“Do I call you Scott and Stiles—or Tyler and Dylan?” Rex asked, smiling.
“Guess it depends on if we are role playing Teen Wolf or not,” Dylan responded.
“Do you guys want a drink—or something?”
“Sure,” Dylan and Tyler both responded. Rex pointed to the refrigerator and the bar and offered them anything they wanted.
‘It’s all on Tyler’s tab, after all,” Rex said. “Anything you want,” he repeated.
Dylan jumped up and started to mix a B52, 1/3 Dram Buoy Bailey’s Irish Cream and Kahlua in a blender. “Hey Tyler, want some of this?”
“Sure, make it a double. I think we’re gonna have some fun today,” Tyler said. Rex sat on the couch and smiled at the two young stars in his ‘living room’ suite.
“I must say,” he said, “I almost can’t believe the two of you are here right now. It seems almost like a dream come true. Especially you Dylan, I would have never guessed you were into tie-up games too.”
Dylan had the blender going full force, with the ice cubes being crushed into near liquid. He grabbed some whipped cream and added it to the top of three glasses, filled to the top.
“Well, to tell you the truth, until yesterday I had almost forgotten how much I enjoyed playing with ropes.” His somewhat manic expression rose up as he sampled his drink. “Whoa, that’s good. Here Tyler, try this,” he said handing a glass to his co-star, and another to Rex.
The three men settled into an animated discussion of their roping desires and experiences. Dylan admitted he used to play lots of cowboy and Indian games as a kid, but was the one who did most of the tying. He secretly wished the other kids would tie him up to but it had never happened for some reason, and he stopped playing around age 10, believing it was somehow all too ‘gay.’
“Yeah, until you had me tying up my werewolf friend yesterday I was always doing the roping. I really never got very good at it, and,” he added, “I hope you can teach me more before you leave, Rex.”
Rex pulled out a silver dollar from his jean’s pocket and said, “Let’s see who goes first, shall we?” Tyler grabbed the coin and flipped it in the air, catching it and slamming it onto the bad of his hand. “Heads you get tied, Dylan, tails I get tied.”
Dylan looked on anxiously as Tyler checked the coin. “Heads it is. You’re up first, Dylan.”
“OK, that’s what I wanted anyway,” Dylan said. “Do we do this with clothes on or off?” he added, looking at Rex and Tyler.
“How would you like to be tied?” Jack asked.
Dylan looked at both guys and was pensive for a moment. He knew he was something of a bi-sexual, but had still not had that much guy on guy experience. He figured that today might be the day but his innocence and innate shyness drove him to say: “Clothes on—to start. Maybe later we can go commando.””
“Fine,” Rex said. “I aim to please. Hey Tyler, do you want to start the roping? Or just help me out?”
“How about I help you, and…after we’re done tying Dylan, would you tie me up too?” He had a puppy dog look in his eyes, and he pushed his long black hair away from his forehead as he gazed at Rex.
“Fine,” Rex said. “We’ll do a twofer then. Maybe I’ll ever tie the two of you up together.” Dylan was beaming and Tyler looked a little worried. Tyler knew he also has ambisexual feelings but he wasn’t sure he wanted to get too close to Dylan, especially if they were going to be working together again next season. But the B52 was doing its work, so he agreed.
“You’re the boss, Rex,” he answered.
Rex told Dylan to stand up and remove his motorcycle jacket. “This would make you way too warm,” he advised.
Dylan hesitated and said, “Couldn’t we just turn up the air conditioning more? After all, Tyler’s got on that tight turtleneck and polo shirt too!” Tyler reached up and clutched his throat and smiled.
Rex smiled too. He moved over to the thermostat and turned the temperature down to 60. The room automatically started to get quite cold. “How’s that?” he added, picking up a 20 foot length of cotton rope and grabbing Dylan’s left wrist by the leather sleeve.
He began to quickly encircle Dylan’s wrist with the ½” soft rope, pulling it tightly around his right wrist and making a figure eight pattern about ten times going down the sleeve towards his hands, never leaving the leather material. Dylan arched his back a little and groaned. “Ahhh, that feels good, Sir.”
Rex liked being called Sir. It was a sign of respect to him for his age and experience. “OK boi,” as he began to cinch the horizontal ropes tightly. Very tight. The leather squeaked and crackled as the ropes tightened. “Tyler, hand me that long piece,” he said, pointing to a particularly large bundle of ¾” inch cotton rope. He attached an end to Dylan’s left elbow and told Tyler to start tying his elbows together.
Tyler had a mean look in his eyes. “Now I gotcha buddy,” he whispered in Dylan’s ear. “Here’s to what you did to me on set yesterday, with all those irons, rope and duct tape!”
Dylan laughed. “Hey, you asked for it!”
“Yeah, I guess I did,” Tyler responded, “but you asked for this!” He wrapped the rope around Dylan’s upper arms about eight times and then drew it around his chest so that the word “Berlin” began to disappear under a mass of white rope. Tyler pulled the rope tight and Dylan moaned again. ‘You love it, don’t you?” he chided his friend.
Dylan’s eyes closed and he had on a tight smile, like he was going into another world—the world of roping, gagging, prisoners, cowboys and Indians that all came flashing back to him from his childhood.
Rex pushed Dylan onto a plush chair and grabbed his feet, removing the Van’s and his black socks. He pulled out another length of rope and began tying Dylan’s feet together, again looping the cotton rope around and around, and cinching it after, with multiple knots below the mass of rope. Dylan groaned again as he realized two guys were binding him so that he could not escape. He felt like going into a role of kidnap victim or something, as Rex continued tying his thighs and calves with lots more rope, cinching it every few loops so that the rope made Dylan immovable.
“Aaarrrggghh!” Dylan muttered. ‘What are you doing?” he smiled. Tyler brought the B52 to his lips and told him to drink some more.
“This may be your last drink for a while,” he chucked.
“Hey!” Dylan retorted. “I never said I wanted to be gagged!” knowing full well that his mouth was about to be completely secured from any more complaints. Tyler put the drink down and grabbed one of Dylan’s black socks and held it up in front of his eyes, which widened. “No! Not that…I haven’t washed those for days,” he complained, actually meaning it, apparently. He shifted away from Tyler’s sock wadded hand and tried to escape but Tyler just laughed and grabbed him by the ropes around his chest and pulled him back.
‘Open wide, Boi!” he said, with Dylan refusing to open his mouth. Rex came over and grabbed Dylan’s nose and clamped it shut, picking up a roll of three inch gray duct tape at the same time.
“I can’t breath,” Dylan shouted and that was all the opening Tyler needed, as he shoved the sock into Dylan’s mouth, forcing the material completely into his mouth, while Rex began to pull a long strip of duct tape off the roll. Tyler grabbed the tape and plastered an end onto Dylan’s left cheek, pulling it across his pouty lips over to his right cheek. He smoothed it down roughly.
Rex smiled. “That may not be enough. Why don’t you go all the way around, Tyler?”
Dylan was looking helplessly angry at this, while Tyler was getting off on dominating his bud. He grabbed the tape and started wrapping it from his left cheek behind his head, across the back of his neck, over his buzz cut and back to the right side. He hesitated when Dylan tried to resist but that was enough for his to want to continue wrapping more tape around, which he did for five complete wraps. Dylan’ complaints grew fainter. “Mmmpphhh!” Mmmpphhh.” Tyler added several more strips under Dylan’s chin and brought these up to his cheeks, effectively securing the tape from moving downward—as if it could anyway.
‘There ya go Dylan. Turnabout’s fair play. Now you know how I felt yesterday!”
Dylan looked really frustrated but as if he was also enjoying himself. The bulge in the crotch of his skinny jeans said otherwise. Tyler and Rex lifted him off the chair and carried him over to the bed, unceremoniously throwing him down. He bounced a little and moaned his displeasure, rolling from his stomach onto his side, then his back and then his other side.
Tyler and Rex sat down on the chairs nearby and finished their drinks, while pretending to ignore Dylan. “That was good work Tyler. Maybe you could be a ‘roper’ someday too!”
“I don’t know, Rex. Right now I think I need to experience being the guy being tied lot more, Tyler said, “if you know what I mean.”
Rex smiled. “Ready, Tyler?”
Last edited by Jack Roper
on Mon Jun 04, 2012 2:39 pm, edited 1 time in total.