CHAPTER THREE – TAKING CARE OF BUSINESS
Chris watched Eric’s attempts to get free – evidently thinking he was alone and unseen – to be so amusing that he found it difficult to repress laughing and giving himself away. He succeeded in remaining quiet for almost an hour as Eric stove to work his wrists free of his bonds. Eric, on the other hand, had no success in his endeavors at all. By the time he gave up with a loud (if well-muffled) sigh of frustration, he had made almost no discernible progress in undoing his bonds. The cloth was tough and unyielding, and would not loosen with the poor leverage his hands and fingers had.
Chris was finally unable to repress a snicker that Eric – his attention no longer focused on trying to free himself – finally heard. Although he was unable to see or talk, Eric’s hearing was not as effectively reduced by the gag and blindfolds. He looked in Chris’s general direction and made a sound of evident inquiry. “Good show,” Chris announced with a laugh, clapping his hands as he got up, walked over to Eric, and carefully checked his bonds for signs of loosening. Eric had just barely managed to loosen one knot slightly, but Chris soon rectified that situation; pulling on the knot until it was tighter and more secure than ever. “You might have actually managed to get yourself free out there unassisted – in about a year.”
Eric merely sighed, then moaned, and hung his head in despair.
Smiling, Chris suddenly moved to Eric’s side, swung one muscular leg around, and sat down right on Eric’s lap. Eric jerked his head up and instinctively moved his upper chest as erect as he could as he felt the weight of Chris’s body atop his thighs. Chris promptly took advantage of the extra room to shift his body forward a few inches so that his waist was in direct contact with Eric’s. He then reached out and encircled his arms around Eric’s head and shoulders; giving his shoulders a gentle massage and then tousling Eric’s hair playfully.
Much to his chagrin, Eric found his body reacting to this attention; and it was soon also readily apparent to Chris where he sat as he felt it begin to press against his own boyhood. Eric could scarcely have been aroused if either or the both of them had been naked!
“Well, who’s a naughty boy then?” Chris said teasingly as Eric’s face (what little could still be seen of it) began to blush redly. He tried to hang his head again in shame, suddenly felt his face press against Chris’s bare chest, and jerked it erect again.
Chris laughed quietly at this display of Eric’s discomfort and embarrassment. “So, does this turn you on?” he suddenly asked his captive in a low and sultry-sounding voice.
The alarm bells started going off in Eric’s head. What the hell was this kid up to? Was Kyle’s brother really trying to come on to him?! He began to shake his head in negation; even while realizing at the same time that this was not (at least entirely) true. Although Eric had never considered himself gay, he had been attracted to certain boys like Chris when he had still been in high school and was that same age himself. And there was certainly no denying that Chris was a very hot and cute-looking boy!
‘But the age difference is prohibitive!’ Eric screamed inside his head. ‘This kid is JAIL BAIT!’ But at the same time, Chris was massaging Eric’s shoulders, trapezius, upper back, and the base of his neck – and to Eric it felt so wonderful! Even the times he had made out with some girl or another in high school hadn’t felt as good as this! It was so wrong, and yet it felt so right!
“You like that, don’t you?!” Chris asked Eric in increasingly seductive-sounding tones as he continued his massage. “Wouldn’t it be nice if I let you go, and we’d run away together, and then I would you all to myself in some apartment of our own somewhere?”
Eric moaned softly, and found himself nodding slowly and hesitantly in the affirmative.
“Wouldn’t that be great?” Chris continued as he stroked the underside of Eric’s chin with a finger, and smiled as he felt an increased stiffening underneath him where he sat. Gosh, he thought to himself; those board shorts don’t hold back very much, do they? Out loud, he continued speaking in soft tones. “We could hug… and kiss… and… make out…”
Eric moaned even louder than ever as thoughts he hadn’t dared dwell upon in years flooded his mind’s eye. He was definitely sounding receptive to the idea of making love with this handsome, hot, and evidently sex-crazed boy.
“There’s just a couple of problems though,” Chris continued as his handsome face was slowly distorted by a cruel smile that Eric was unable to see and his tone subtly changing. “One; you’re WAY too old for me, and two, you’re as soft as a bowl of pudding!”
At the same time, Chris ceased his gentle massages, pushed the cloth bands covering Eric’s chest down as far as he could just under Eric’s newly-exposed nipples, gripped the nipples as tightly as he could, and began to squeeze and turn them hard to the right and then to the left. It was as if he thought Eric’s nipples were twist-top bottle caps. Eric’s previous soft moans abruptly turned into squeals of alarm and pain as the now-cruel fingers began to hurt him rather than caress.
Eric writhed and thrashed in his bonds while squealing as loudly as he could through his gag, but nothing he could do was to any avail. Held securely by the cloth strips and further immobilized by the weight of Chris’s athletic body on his lap, Eric was unable to do anything but suffer as his tormentor continued to squeeze, twist, and pull on his nipples; both of which now felt like they were on fire. Eric strained against his unyielding bonds to no avail, but at last his wide cloth bonds did him no further injury. Had he been tied with ropes, the strain of pulling against him would likely have caused them to cut deeply into his flesh and caused him even more pain. As it was, his pulling on them caused his ankles, wrists, and arms to begin to go numb.
“Man, you’re so soft!” Chris declared as he suddenly let go of Eric’s nipples, grabbed his love handles instead, and began to pull on them as hard as he could. “Look at you. I can pinch WAY more than an inch. Look at the way you stretch! Just like Plastic Man!” And all the time he pulled and pulled on Eric’s love handles as if he were trying to rip them right off of him.
Eric shook his head back and forth; more in agony than in silently crying out “Noooo!” He had never imagined that anyone so young could be so cruel as this!
“Hey! Don’t break him!” Clark’s cheerful voice suddenly called out from the direction of the doorway. “Save some for the rest of us!”
The cruel fingers released their hold on Eric’s love handles, and the blindfolded captive felt Chris’s body shift as he apparently turned to look at his youngest brother; but the teenager made no move to get off of Eric’s lap. “I thought you and Kevin were watching TV,” Chris replied with evident (but mild) annoyance.
“The show didn’t seem half as interesting as having someone new to play with,” Clark told him. “So Kevin and I decided to take him for a little walk around the house, and let him use the bathroom before we call it a night. Kevin’s bringing the leash now.”
As the pain in Eric’s chest and love handles finally began to subside, he noticed the sound of chains clinking together coming from outside the room and coming closer; apparently from up the stairs. Within moments it was clearly coming from just outside the room and coming right into the room. “Time for walkies,” Kevin’s voice announced as he set what sounded like a ton of chains noisily down upon Chris’s bed. “Let’s get him out of that chair and give him a little exercise.”
Eric heard someone kneel down behind his chair, and suddenly unseen hands were untying the cloth strips that bound his wrists behind him. Oh, Thank God! Anything was better than being tied to that chair and being tortured by that hoodlum siting on his lap!
But even when Eric’s wrists were mostly, his arms were still tied securely to the chair and he was unable to move his hands very much. Kevin ceased untying him at this point to stand up, go to the bed, and bring back something that clinked metallically. Eric felt his hands pushed against his back, and then two bands of metal gripping them like a vise. They weren’t handcuffs, but something much heavier; these bands were at least several times wider than modern handcuffs were and felt much heavier. Eric felt his new bonds with his fingers; the device locked around his wrists felt like they must be those old-fashioned type of restraints he’d seen used in some old westerns. Two bands of metal two inches wide, a quarter of an inch think, and encircling his wrists snugly. They were connected by a chain of heavy, thick, two-inch links roughly twelve inches long. The chain was tucked between Eric’s back and the back of the chair, which meant they were not holding his body to the chair like the cloth straps were.
Leaving his arms and torso trapped for the moment, Kevin next untied Eric’s feet. The moment Eric wearily let them drop to the floor, they were gripped by strong unseen hands, and another set of manacles even larger and more ponderous than the set around his wrists were locked onto them. Like the other set, they were tight and snug but so much so as to cause undue discomfort. They greatly restricted his movements, but apparently not his circulation.
The boys were not done yet. The sound of a chain much larger and heavier-sounding than those of either set of manacles suddenly approached him. A moment later, Eric was startled to feel the grip of a metal collar encircling his neck like a dog collar; but made of metal rather than leather and built much like the manacles that gripped his wrists and ankles. The fit was snug but did not impede his breathing, but Eric still felt himself choking as he heard a padlock being clicked shut into place at the back of his neck. This metal collar was on to stay as long as his captors wanted it to! Just as troubling, Eric heard the heavy chain being clipped onto the collar at the base of his throat; much as a dog collar would be. but this was evidently one heavy-duty leash!
After this, the rest of the cloth strips holding Eric bound to the chair were removed. Two sets of hands to either side of him gripped his arms and impelled him to stand up; something he was more than glad to do by this point. He needed the help too, as he was still blindfolded (as well as gagged) and could not see anything that was going on around him. In addition, his legs were still somewhat weak from being trapped in one position for so long, and moderately numb from the loss of circulation of being kept bound to the chair for over two hours.
Eric was unsteady on his feet for a few moments, but the two older boys kept a solid grip on him and supported him while he recovered. After a moment, he was able to stand unassisted, and felt he would be ready to walk in another minute. Despite their overall treatment of him, Eric was secretly grateful for the assistance, as he was sure he would have fallen over like a sack of potatoes otherwise. Although, chances are that if he had they would have found it amusing.
“Think you can stand on your own two feet now?” Kevin’s voice asked him from his left side.
Still unable to talk, Eric nodded his head. He just hoped they didn’t expect him to walk anywhere while he was also blindfolded like this; he couldn’t see a darned thing through it!
The hands that gripped his upper arms released their hold. Eric wobbled slightly for a moment, but managed to stay erect.
Kevin walked over to stand directly in front of Eric. He folded his arms across his chest and smiled in satisfaction. Having a new prisoner to torment was going to be fun! Tormenting Kyle had been fun too of course; but they’d worn him down too much both physically and spiritually lately. It was no fun to torment someone who’d given up resisting and simply accepted whatever they did to him. Moreover, besides the fact that they still loved their brother in their own way, they needed to keep Kyle healthy enough to keep working to support them all.
This new prisoner however could be tortured to their heart’s content. Well, at least to a point. Even their sadism had certain well-defined limits, and they were certainly not murderers. They would never consider anything permanent or drastic (such as mutilation or any kind of sexual assault), although whether it was because they had some kind of conscience or simply didn’t want to have to find another replacement too quickly was a matter of conjecture even among themselves. Not that Eric’s state of health was TOO important, but they planned to take good care of him – in their own way. For one thing, it was definitely less fun tormenting someone who was already so badly beaten down that he became insensitive to further tormenting (as Kyle had already proven to them). Otherwise, Eric meant less to them than did their three dogs (all Doberman Pinschers) that they kept penned up out in the kennel.
“Okay, Eric; we’re going to take you on a tour of the house,” Kevin said to him. “First stop is the upstairs bathroom. Bet you’re really interested in going there by this time.”
Eric nodded his head vigorously to make his wholehearted agreement with this assessment fully unmistakable.
Kevin chuckled. “Okay, then; Clark’s going to lead you there right now,” he said.
He apparently meant this literally as Eric suddenly felt someone grab the heavy chain leash close to his neck and begin to tug at it.
“Wait a minute!” Eric tried to protest. “I can’t see! Take this blindfold off me!” Unfortunately, the gag was also still in place so that he could not talk either. His words came out badly muffled and so garbled that his words were incomprehensible. Moreover, the boys seemed to show no interest in whatever Eric was trying to say. The hand holding his leash simply tugged all the harder; forcing Eric to step forward, choke, or stumble. He moved forward hesitantly; hoping he didn’t bump into anyone – or into anything hard. The boys either didn’t think of that or, more likely, they simply didn’t care and saw this as an easy way to assert their domination over a helpless prisoner. They simply urged him forward despite his being unable to see where he was going.
It soon proved however that his captors wee more careful of his welfare than they first seemed. They warned him when he came close to the doorway, and told him how to move so that he did not bump into the woodwork or the door itself, and told him where to step over the threshold so he would not trip over it. Then, still blindfolded, Eric was led out into the hallway outside Chris’s room; Clark ahead of him pulling his leash and the other two boys flanking him.
Eric had gotten only a brief, cursory glimpse of the upstairs hallway, and so had no idea where he was being taken to – except that they were passing the stairs rather than going down them (thank goodness for THAT!). The cavalcade moved along slowly and leisurely, but the other boys did not seem to be in any hurry and in fact could be heard laughing and talking quietly among themselves in whispered words Eric could not make out.
After what seemed like a long journey but couldn’t have been more than sixty feet, the boys urged Eric to stop. “Okay, we’ve reached the upstairs bathroom,” Chris’s voice told Eric as the
boy walked past and ahead of Eric, who then heard a doorknob turned and a door swing open. “go on ahead and do your business in there.”
Eric merely stood still and made a questioning noise. How on earth was he expected to do what he needed to do while blindfolded, and with his hands cuffed behind him?
As if his captives were only now figuring that out for themselves (which Eric doubted), Chris continued. “Okay, I guess we’ll have to lighten up on you a moment. Hold still.”
Eric did as he was told and, to his relief, felt a set of hands at his back unlocking one of the manacles that held his wrists locked together behind him. Eric sighed with contentment as he let his wrists fall to his sides, with the manacles still dangling from his other wrist. He stood still and waited for the other wrist to be freed.
But instead, his wrists were grasped, placed in front of him, and the opened manacle locked back around the recently-freed wrist. He was manacled once again; although now his wrists were in front of him rather than behind. Only then, when he was still reasonably helpless, were his blindfold and gag removed.
“There. You can do your business just fine now,” Kevin told him. “Now get on with it. We’ll hold onto the leash while you go in. You can shut the door most of the way; we won’t peek.”
Eric stepped into the bathroom and closed the door behind him. It wouldn’t close completely because of the heavy leash, but it was enough to give him some sense of privacy. The leash was long enough so that he could easily reach the toilet bowl without anyone holding the other end of the leash coming inside with him, and with that he had to be content.
Eric looked around him as he took care of his sanitary needs. The bathroom was a reasonably large and spacious one, with a bathtub, medicine cabinet and sink; even though he gathered that there was another, larger one downstairs. Unfortunately, there was no window through which he could seek to climb through and escape… even assuming he could yank the leash out of his captor’s hands and scrabble through an upstairs window while manacled and hobbled. Even assuming he managed a jump from a second floor window without injury, he’d never manage to outrun any pursuers in this isolated spot… especially hobbled and barefoot. And even if he could somehow escape, the prospect of being seen by anyone with his manacles and a metal leash padlocked on him was a daunting enough prospect in itself. And explaining that he’d been held captive by three young boys?! Inconceivable!!
Lost in thought, Eric apparently lingered too long over his ablutions, because suddenly the bathroom door was flung open and his three captors began to file in. Luckily Eric had finished his task, and he had just enough time to pull his board shorts back up to protect his modesty before the other boys confronted him. “What the hell is taking you so long?” Chris asked with heavy sarcasm. “You looking to get a swirly or something?!”
Eric quickly shook his head in negation as he flushed the toilet; not daring to speak aloud.
“Well, you’ll get one anyway the next time you take that long!” Chris snapped. “Got it?”
Eric nodded his head just as vigorously as he shook it a moment before.
“Nice to know,” Chris retorted with a grim smile. “Now hold still.”
Eric tensed as the boy approached him; wondering what new torture his captors had planned for him. But, much to his surprise, the boy unlocked first his wrist manacles and then the ones locked around his ankles. He stepped back without removing the collar locked around his neck however. At the same time, Kevin crouched down beside the bathtub, set the plug in place, and started the bathtub faucet.
“Now, before we continue our tour, it’s time for you to take a bath. So strip!” Chris announced.
Eric merely goggled at him in disbelief.
“Well?!” Chris said acidly. “We’re waiting!”
“Strip? Here? Now?! In front of you guys?” Eric asked in amazement.
“Aw, for crying out loud!” Clark sighed impatiently. “We aren’t interested in looking at your naughty bits, God knows! We didn’t say to turn around and flash us; now did we? We’re just going to draw your water, set out the stuff you need, and let you take a bath. We figured it’d be better if you do it yourself, so we took the manacles off. But we can put ‘em back on and bathe you ourselves if you prefer!”
“No, no; I’m cool with the first idea,” Eric hastily assured them.
The boys set out some soap, shampoo, and towels for Eric to use and stood back to give him room. They made no attempt to leave the bathroom to give him the privacy he had before, however. When it was obvious to Eric that they had no intention of doing so, he had to decide if he was going to comply… or make an attempt to escape here and now while his hands and feet were free.
Eric thought about carefully. They outnumbered him three to one (assuming of course that Kyle was actually downstairs and effectively out of the picture), and all three were physically fit and athletic. But Eric was relative free for the moment (discounting the leash and collar), and was larger (and, hopefully, stronger) than any of them. Even Chris, at 5’ 8” and 150 pounds, was four inches shorter and thirty pounds lighter than Eric was. Kevin was even smaller (5’ 5” and 125 pounds) and younger, and Clark (5’ 2” and 110 pounds) smaller and lighter still; perhaps both together would be negligible in a fight.
Eric decided to go for the gold! Gathering up his nerve, he charged at the three boys that stood between him and freedom with a blood-curdling yell…
Dare to be different... and make a difference.
To boldly go where no one in their right mind has gone before...