A tale that I wrote with the input and support of Jeremy, who's posted stuff here too. Here are the first four chapters. The story isn't complete, but it's long enough to offer interesting adventures for the bonds and gags fiction enthusiasts. There are very evil and disturbed villains, and abductions, so be warned.
A Lad in Distress
by Jeremy & Bondwriter
Chapter 1 – A life-long obsession
"Once I'm done with adjusting this, I doubt you will give me any cheek, Marty. And you will be in a proper condition to perform."
Shaun tugged over the corset puller. The corset he was putting on Marty wasn't the usual kind, tightening around the waist. Instead, the corset tightened around his mouth. The kid leather apparatus was designed to encase the whole neck and lower face of the wearer with a lace tightened at the back. There were stays as in a real corset. They were flat and invisible, but they framed Marty's Adam's apple and went over his chin. The metal reinforcement ensured that once the back was closed firmly with the lace, jaws were solidly locked and lips were concealed by the gleaming lamb hide.
Shaun liked sturdy gags, and the mouth corset was only the tip of the iceberg. Marty's mouth was filled completely with a good amount of balled-up silk; the lips were swathed in the usual criss-cross of fine two-inch surgical tape Shaun found convenient and effective to make good gags. Two turns around the head pulled against the neck ensured a finer posture once all the layers were finally applied.
"So Marty, are you getting into character? The gag is tight, and you can't speak a word, can you?"
"Mmmmm Mmm Mphmm…"
Marty played along. He was strapped to a chair, wearing only a pair of nylon shorts, thin white socks and kid leather boots that wrapped his feet closely. Shaun had spent forty-five minutes gagging him. Marty had learned this was Shaun's kick in the last thirty-six hours he had spent in his Washington State property.
Marty had been impressed by the mansion when Marty had driven him from the airport and passed the gate. The house was modeled after grey stone abbeys or manors found in Ireland or Brittany. It wasn't gothic, really, but it looked spectacular overlooking the Pacific Ocean, and the trees showed they were beaten by the winds.
Marty was there testing a project Shaun was working on. Or so Shaun said.
Shaun was born Hollywood. His mom was an actress and his father a 'suit' in a big studio. He'd had a small career as a director. He'd been assistant director on a few movies, and he'd gotten a break in directing number five in a franchise that many would have deemed 'torture porn'. It was about a super evil and clever serial killer who restrained his victims and would instill fear before ending them violently, except for an unlikely survivor who managed to escape. The killer would manage to elude the law at the end of each movie in the franchise. The next one would then have to invent yet new devious plots to satisfy the target audience.
Shaun's version had been the most successful in the series. He had a twisted mind, and he had managed to make the script even creepier than previous episodes. His taste in gags was not for nothing. Most of the time, the killer's traps in these movies featured heavy, tight restraints; there were always nefarious games emphasizing the fact the victims could not speak. Of course, there was also the classic seizing of the wannabe rescuer, who was the object of a trap.
But there were also scenes that many had found unbearable, in which the killer spoke through a speaker and would list all of the gruesome things he would do to his victim, and would have him repeat it gagged with lots of layers and heavy wadding inside his mouth.
This film had gotten Shaun on other action or horror projects and provided him with a stream of requests from actors. His liking for bondage was no secret, and some aficionados who had acting ambitions started hitting on him to have them as guest for trials.
Marty was the twelfth in eighteen months. His parents' manor up north was a wonderful playpen for such activities. So here he was, having an eventful weekend with a handsome twink very appreciative of his fetish.
"Good, Marty, gather yourself, we're going to shoot the scene. I hope you remembered your lines."
As the restrained cutie mumbled his response, Shaun went to the window. He looked at the ocean; from the top of the cliff where the mansion was perched he could see far to the west. The sky was grey. It mirrored Shaun's state of mind. Out of all the young men he'd brought here, there had been some fun for sure, but every time, after a few hours, he realized these games weren't the real thing. He was waiting for this one special young man he had thought of for all these years.
His mind drifted to his first intense memory of bondage. He had gone to his grandparents over Thanksgiving weekend; they lived in the country in Northern California. It was a small town, and it was always mildly boring when he went there. He was seven; his grandmother had to entertain him in the small ways the small town offered. One was a movie theater. It was an old style venue, featuring one screen only. The building itself, much different from the multiplexes Shaun had gone to before.
This was the first sign this was no ordinary experience. His grandmother had been glad there had been a new Disney movie playing for a few weeks. Shaun loved cartoons, of course, and the prospect of going out with his grandmother all for himself pleased him.
That's how he saw Aladdin for the first time. The movie started; for a seven-year-old boy, the experience was mind-blowing. The songs were great. Shaun was highly amused by the comedic aspects; the Genie was really funny. The villains scared him. Then, as he thought the movie was over with Aladdin kissing the Princess, it had happened.
Aladdin, then under the guise of Prince Ali Ababwa, was vanishing thanks to the magic carpet. That's when it happened. These few seconds, seen countless times since, were imprinted in his brain forever.
Jafar's guards seized Aladdin and swiftly bound and gagged him. He had a wide scarf trapping his lower face so all he could do was utter muffled groans. This impressed the young Shaun very much. Aladdin was completely helpless when Jafar uttered his ominous sentence: "I believe you've worn out your welcome, Prince Abooboo.". Then Aladdin kept trying to talk, to no avail. Jafar ordered his guards to dispose of Aladdin. Shaun had been very afraid at that moment.
Aladdin was sent into the sea from the cliff, with a chain ball at his ankles. Shaun had had strong conflicting emotions, as the ordeal fascinated him as much as it frightened him. As Aladdin drowned slowly, trying to get to the lamp to make the Genie appear, Aladdin grunted in despair, but he couldn't utter a word. It was nice that the Genie didn't need to be called by saying a magic formula. He rubbed the lamp as he was about to die, and so the Genie was freed and could save Aladdin. It was well worth losing his second wish. The rest of the movie, with his grandiose finale, had somehow distracted the seven-year-old boy; but as soon as he'd been outside the theater, his mind had wandered back to this scene.
He tried to gag himself with a bandana. He soon discovered that though the gag looked good in the bathroom mirror, it didn't hold, and it didn't prevent him much from making noise.
He added a hankie the next time. From there, he explored different household materials, duct tape, cling wrap film, and he found various ways to fill his mouth so his tongue couldn't move.
He was one of the first to get the VHS upon release. He got copies of the film in all subsequent formats. Of course, the VHS tape bore the signs of Shaun's leanings, as it was a bit difficult to watch the scene.
Then there had been Chris Wilde, four years later. Chris Wilde played the lead role in a drama/ sitcom show Shaun's mom was in. Chris was from the Midwest; when the second season was shot, it was arranged he would live with the Wainworths, as his parents couldn't be as much there as for the first season.
The first two weeks were not too eventful. Shaun got along with Chris, who was eighteen months older than he was. One evening, Shaun managed to get the conversation rolling about tie-ups. There had been an episode in the first season in which Fred's character had a dream in which the kids he was supposed to babysit the next day tied him to a chair and gagged him with a bandana. Of course, he woke up, and in the final shots of the episode, as he reached the place he would have to show how grown up and mature he was, the tykes could be seen preparing to bomb him with eggs and flour.
It was a bit silly, but of course this episode had been one of Shaun's favorites too. At eleven, soon to be twelve, Shaun now felt a very special tingle 'down there' when he thought about other boys gagged. So he brought the conversation as casually as he could. Of course, to make it easier, he had first managed to get the other boy to watch Aladdin.
Shaun knew how to control himself when the scene played. Looking from the corner of his eye, he could see a very slight smirk. Once the scene was over, Shaun shifted a bit. He said very detachedly, "This is a cartoon, with just a scarf he could call for help…"
Shaun counted up to five in his head, before he made a remark he wanted to sound thoughtful.
"Didn't you get gagged with a bandana in one of the show's episodes, Chris?"
"Yes, but it was pretend. And the shooting didn't last more than twenty minutes. I agree, Shaun, just a bandana doesn't work. I had to say 'mm mm' with my lips closed to pretend."
There was silence. To Shaun's amazement, the older boy broke it.
"Why, Shaun? Do you think you could tie me up and gag me so I can't escape or call for help?"
Shaun was flabbergasted. He was eager enough not to let such an opportunity pass.
"Uh… Sure, that would be a cool game."
"I dare you, then!"
Shaun didn't wait for long. He jumped to his feet.
"Stay right here, Chris, I'll go pick some things."
There were ropes in the entrance pantry. Tape was in the bathroom, and Shaun went to his bedroom to get a few hankies and items he'd collected for his private games.
As he came back, Chris stood from the couch. He was wearing a track suit, which suited Shaun because it made him look good and he wouldn't have clothes getting in his way.
Soon Chris was bound hand and foot. That's when he let his younger friend know in a not too subtle manner that he shared similar interests.
"I'm going to call out, your parents are going to come and free me, and you'll be punished."
Shaun had pushed him back onto the couch, hands tied behind his back. He sat next to him and clamped a hand over his mouth.
"I doubt you will, Mr. Superstar, because I'm really kidnapping you this time. The studio will pay a handsome ransom for you!"
He removed his hand, only to cram in a medium-sized silk handkerchief. Shaun then added a golf ball inside the older boy's mouth. There was a roll of duct tape, and an X was stuck over Chris' lips. The scarf that topped this was tightly knotted over the nape of Chris' neck.
"Mmmmpphhh! Mmmmm! Mmmmblmmmm!" he tried unsuccessfully.
"Ha! Ha! I doubt you can call for help now."
Shaun had added three coils of rope at the knees, waist and chest, so the bonds would look a bit more impressive.
He fetched his digital camera.
"You're going to smile for the ransom pic!"
The boy nodded eagerly. The teenage star had weird dreams, too.
The game had gone on for three hours; the prisoner had been moved around, fed and gagged again, and his picture had been taken in many different settings.
After this, there had been more experimentation with Chris. Though they both somehow acknowledged the erotic nature of such activities, they always had them in challenges or games context. They kept their clothes on.
From there, Shaun had managed to find other playmates. Many of them, actually.
As he looked at the ocean, Shaun couldn't help but think that what he really wanted was his own 'Diamond in the Rough'. Someone whose perfect body and looks would be that of the gracious cartoon character. And one in which he could be Jafar .
"So, Marty, in this scene, you will have to answer the questions of a devious criminal who thinks you're responsible for the fire in his house that killed his family ten years ago. You remember what you have to reply? I have all evening, and even all night, if you don't perform as directed."
Marty couldn't be sure that Shaun wasn't serious. He needed a part. He would be paid for the test, which was unusual. He dove inside, as he'd been taught in acting classes, tapping into the character's emotions to give the most convincing performance. This would be his big break!
"Mmmbbllm! Mmm! Mmmph!"
Chapter 2 – Breaking up
As he stirred from a deep slumber, Zach felt the warmth of the other body inside his bed. He felt really good; the hot smell of bodies in the morning, after some relatively chaste activities were always something he enjoyed waking up to. Like hot coffee and the smell of cinnamon rolls.
He dragged himself out of bed. Zach's boy friend, Taylor, was driving him to a casting. A commercial for waffles in which he was supposed to play the perfect young husband. He looked really young to play the part, but one never knew what could be these weird casting people's criteria.
They had the breakfast Taylor had cooked; they chitchatted over what they would do for the weekend. Zach seemed mildly annoyed when Taylor told him that he would eventually not be going at his friend's for the party that evening. Zach had longed for a little privacy, like the night before, to chat or read online on some his guilty pleasure interest. It was deeply frowned upon by his boyfriend.
Taylor was gay, but he was very straight-acting. His rather traditional upbringing had brought his to despise fringe behaviors; so whereas he had overcome his gayness rather easily, not feeling much shame for getting hard at the sight of a bulge in other men's pants, he had a deep distaste for cross-dressers, flamers and SM type people.
When Zach had let him know about his liking for bondage, he had been adamant that would Zach act out these fantasies, he would not go on with him.
Zach was getting out from his shower; he spotted Taylor looking at the email on his laptop. No! He hadn't locked the session last night. He'd just faded the screen as Taylor came home.
The lean and wiry young man of almost nineteen stepped cautiously behind, his towel wrapped around his waist. His lush hair was falling down his neck; a quick toweling got it to full volume anew.
Taylor was most grateful to have found such a lovely boy. Everybody turned their eyes to them when they walked down around the Palisades. Zach's jet black hair, his dark complexion and his lovely smile that he offered generously got both men and women to turn towards him.
As Zach could see above Taylor's shoulder, his stomach churned. Taylor had not only opened a PDF file with the comic Zach collected every chapter of from a Yahoo Group, but he'd gotten it from an online acquaintance who he'd discussed the issue with at length. His instant messaging had remained open too. This was what Taylor was poring over, a long saga depicting the adventures of a young man in the thirties who had been struck with an ancient curse that meant he was to be in bondage peril all the time. And there was no shortage of villains to undertake the task of keeping him bound and gagged in the harshest ways.
Zach liked the cartoonish aspect of the story; he found such stories titillating; there was a thrill watching young men in peril. These tales also made him feel good about being safe from the frightening prospects the young Brit faced.
Zach would have loved someone to tie him up to see how it felt. But Taylor wouldn't have taken it too kindly if he'd tried. For that matter, Taylor turned out to be really pissed.
"So Zach, you still enjoy these smutty bondage stories? I thought we'd put the matter behind us. I think I had been clear too."
Being the son of a Lutheran pastor meant that Taylor, despite living in Sin City was intractable when it came to monogamy and decency. He was very jealous also.
Taylor jumped to his feet.
"I'll go brunch in a diner; you're on your own to get to the audition. You'll have to be out of the apartment tomorrow; I won't be sleeping here tonight, eventually."
Zach had to admit he had been warned. He still thought his little fantasy to be quite harmless. It was a betrayal of the terms nonetheless. The door slammed. Zach's most important issue was to get to Burbanks on his own. The cab was his only solution. He checked his pocket. The two twenties were supposed to take him to the middle of the next week.
It would be time to find a solution to the money issue another time. He called the cab company.
As he saw the streets, ramps and freeways of the City of Angels pass in front of his eyes in the downbeat cab, his mind wandered to this little fetish of his. He'd been interested in tie-up and kidnapping situations from a tender age.
He had very few occasions to actually play with like-minded people. There was a vivid memory of being seven and having to endure a penalty after a game of cards with his cousins, all female and older than him. As he had long eyelashes and was a very beautiful child, they had hugged and kissed him often.
This time, his cousin Sherry who was thirteen had decided he had to stand with his hands on his head for ten minutes since he'd lost. When she noticed he had moved his feet, she came and bound his ankles. As he was fidgeting, she declared it was necessary to tie his wrists behind his back.
She had done so, and had eventually tied a scarf over his lower face. The way the three girls praised his cuteness, but overall his helplessness made him feel queasy, but in a nice way. Ten minutes later, he was freed. The memory remained vividly with him to this very day.
There had been more longing for tie-up, self imposed gags before he'd wanked as he was later. He had always been rather unlucky finding partners. He'd had a few online connections, but they never got anywhere. Either pervs wanted to put him through the most gruesome ordeals, or when he found a gentleman interested in mild bondage role-play, he was turned down as soon as he'd sent a pic, these people wanting nothing to do with a minor. Which he was not, but he could not convince them.
The cab stopped. Now he had to forget about his sorrows. What mattered was to get the part. He was in desperate need for cash, and he knew he could do it in Hollywood. He couldn't go back to his hometown, as his issues with his family had seen him thrown out of the house eighteen months previous. He had been told never to show up again; time would maybe mend things, but for now, this was not a viable way out.
He entered the studio's gates. He walked the third of the mile to the warehouse indicated on the calendar he had on his phone. The hall was already full of handsome young men, ranging from eighteen to thirty. This was quite a mouth-watering display.
The wait in the large hall was likely to last some time. Zach grabbed his phone. There was good network access. He launched an app for a fetish site he'd used to find people to chat with. He sent messages to people he knew and lived in LA. This time he could meet them, now that he no longer had to refuse because of his boy friend. This would give him something to look forward too; knowing Taylor, there would be no forgiving. Even if he felt stupid and that he regretted his words in a few days, Taylor would be too proud to admit it. There would be no attempt at fixing what he had broken.
Zach was eventually called, having had the time to send cheerful messages to three of the people he was connected to on the site; the three that had close locations, actually. Zach stood; he had to do his job, and prove he was worth being given the part.
He'd had the script as he waited. He had to pick up a binder full of papers, since they had not a sample of the product. He was then to bring it to a table where the casting staff were present. All people between forty and sixty were supposed to be the cheerful family he was living with.
The thought of this moment had kept him going through the morning. After doing the scene three times, with a special focus of the person filming, as his performance was grabbing attention, he was dismissed.
He felt faint; the build up to this performance had prevented him from thinking about Taylor. Now he realized the blond surfer boy was gone. The cute butt, the firm thighs, the big green eyes: all this was gone. And he had to find a place to stay.
He leaned to the wall and sighed. As he eventually dragged himself outside wearily, the notification of an app message on the phone rang in his pocket. He hadn't turned it off! At least it had not rung during the audition.
A bar tender Zach had talked to online was interested. His name was Josh, and he was trying to get his script, and so he tended bar waiting for his break. Zach sat, and after a few back and forth messages, with the tens of seconds of eager waiting in between, it was decided that he could go there later in the early evening. By a stroke of luck, it was one of the few weeks Josh wasn't working on Saturday evening.
Zach went home, showered and changed to ride his bike to the guy, who lived only two and a half miles away. He packed some clothing; Zach was lean and had a toned body; yet he was not a gym rat. He liked sportswear when it was shiny, smooth material. He loved how it could enhance other boys' bodies.
This was one of the things he'd exchanged about with Josh. So he put Speedos and black polyamide running shorts in his bag; they made his butt stick out a little, but he was proud of his perfect round buns, and he wasn't against showing his thighs a little. He hoped this would fit Josh's sports clothing fetish.
He rang. Josh opened the door; he looked better than on his profile pic. He had green eyes that looked at Zach with interest. Cropped light brown hair with shades of red. A great smile. Zach was glad he'd hooked up with someone he was attracted to for his first bondage hook-up. Josh was dressed in a shiny tracksuit. He looked great.
"Come in, Zach!"
Zach had barely entered the flat before Josh clamped his hand over his mouth.
"I guess someone shouldn't have meddled in my business."
A cartoonish kidnap role-play had been decided, and Zach moaned a lot, wriggled around but didn't really fight.
"Sorry, but you will have to stay here a bit longer. We can't have you go around calling the police or thwarting my plans any further.
Josh pulled Zach towards a chair. Coils of white rope were piled beside it, and a few had already been anchored to the simple wood kitchen chair.
Josh held on fast to the cutest bike rider he had ever seen. He couldn't believe his luck. It was worth all the trouble he'd gone through to make this happen when he'd gotten Zach's message in the morning.
The bike rider outfit he wore was all Lycra, and feeling the cute little buttocks all wrapped in the shiny material made Josh's manhood grow in his own Speedos he wore underneath his tracksuit. He didn't want to scare such a promising promise of bondage pleasure. As Zach had stated "not too sexual" in their exchanges, he would let the boy ask for it if some further occasions happened.
He dragged Zach to the chair and forced him to sit down. It was fortunate this was role-play. It took Josh long minutes to decide upon which rope to use next, and working over his bonds with gleeful enthusiasm. Had Zach resisted, Josh’s job would have been made much more difficult.
Eventually Zach was really well trussed to the chair. He squirmed, he twitched, but there was no way he'd escape such rigorous bonds. The little fear he'd had when he first had been handgagged had subsided. He felt Josh was a fun playmate; the "I guess I can’t let you call out for help, now, can I?" he uttered meant there would be some gagging next.
Josh grabbed a long strip of cotton he used to cleave-gag Zach. There was a small knot in its middle, but it was more for show, as he could get rid of the scarf with a little head motion and the knot did not fill his mouth, if this was why it had been tied there.
"More difficult to have a smart mouth now, little meddler. You'll have to stay quiet while we fence the goods!"
The details of the scenario had not been discussed, but being in the hands of a bunch of thieves appealed to Zach tremendously. This was actually his first tie-up ever, if you didn't count a few self-experiments, and so far it was great. Zach pretended to be silenced, grunting with his mouth closed, as the scarf between his teeth didn’t hinder speech much.
Josh kept him like this for almost an hour. He regularly came to check on him, informing him on how the whole post-heist activities were going, and pointing out repeatedly how helpless he was. He didn't resist poking him here and there. Josh was still impressed by Zach's beauty, and he acted a bit shy. He didn't want to be rude to this handsome man, and he didn't knead him as he'd have done with other play partners.
This was a great evening, as Josh then changed Zach into some nice nylon shorts before he restrained him, spread-eagled to his bed with soft cuffs that attached to the bed's frame. .
Josh leaned over, with a white silk scarf he was folding in a wide bandage. He removed the thinner one tied between his teeth. Zach tried to call, low enough so the neighbors wouldn't call 911. The handgag was back.
"Oh no, scoundrel, you won't. I'm going to gag you nice and tight for the night."
He then wrapped Zach's lower face in the smooth material. With Josh straddling him, Zach could feel his captor's hardness, through the shorts Josh now wore, over his chest as he tied the scarf
There were more intimate activities; Zack got wanked in his shorts a few times, and his hand was freed to reciprocate the favor.
This was an evening of fun. Zach slept there overnight, though in his own bed. They had a little extra tie-up time in the morning before real life obligations forced Josh to leave. Zach got a nice wank from Josh as he had his hands bound behind his back.
Zach rode back to the apartment, feeling elated; he grabbed his things, which could be put in two bags. He booked in a motel; it was not exactly upscale, but his money didn't allow much luxury. The rest of the Sunday was uneventful; Zach glowed in the feelings of what he'd just done. He slept very peacefully that night, actually.
Chapter 3 – Breaking out
The following Tuesday, Zach got a call. He needed to pass a second audition on Thursday for the waffle commercial. The next two days saw lots of hope, heavy preparation, as the eighty-four words of text he'd gotten from the first time were memorized and repeated over and over.
He dressed in his finest elegant casual to be in character. Zach took the bus, he got there on time. Everything went fine, except that he still wasn't told if he got the part. There would be more waiting. He left the room, with more positive feelings than the first time.
As he exited the door, he had to let a tall man in. This guy was dressed in a suit, a modern one tailored in a style reminding of late nineteenth century Victorian elegance. Zach was quite impressed by the man's poise; as he stepped outside, he realized he knew this long face, with the jet-black hair and the short pointy goatee. It was Shaun Wainworth, the torture movies director. To be fair, he'd done some action movies too. Crossing path with celebrities was one of the LA things that still impressed Zach.
Inside the building, Shaun stood aghast. His gaze was turned towards the outside; he'd followed the young man he'd crossed with his eyes. The beauty of the face had been replaced with the view from behind. In Shaun's mind, it didn't disappoint. The tight buns encased inside the close-fitting slacks made for a great complement to the amazing face he'd seen. He'd been so mesmerized by the apparition of this real life Aladdin that he'd lost all his means. When he came to his senses and ran outside to talk to the young man, he was gone.
Shaun went back inside; on the entrance posting board, he saw there were two casting auditions; one of them was for the project he was working on. Both were conducted by agencies he'd worked for. From there, it didn't take thirty minutes for Shaun to find the contact information of the young man by enquiring with the waffle commercial staff.
He got out with the information. His dream had come true.
Now he had to work on making it happen with this Zacharia fellow. Shaun didn't think subtlety was much needed. Still, he couldn't possibly call the young man out of the blue if he intended to get his Aladdin scheme to work.
Back at the office, Shaun quickly decided to call Zacharia's agency for a project that would have them send the young man to him. He was shooting a music video the following week, so he needed some specific types of faces for close-ups in the video. The assistant he talked to sent him a link for several actor pages fitting his requirements of slightly Middle Eastern, lean and with black hair. The third link was Zacharia. He gazed at the face and the smile. He hadn't been fooled by his senses.
He was about to hang up the phone, when he thought of asking right away about Zacharia. The assistant obliged. He heard the keyboard rattling, as she picked up the boy's file from her computer. He then got the information that Zacharia had not been picked for the waffle advertising. Good, he would be more likely to accept his own offer.
He told the woman he'd keep in touch, and that he would let her know if he needed to see the young man. Shaun hung up, his mind wandering as he imagined his long-hatched plan could be set in motion soon. He smiled.
Zach didn't take it too well the following day when he got the call from the agency. Shaun had called back just before, so he did get the good news of an audition for a music video. He was given the address of a hotel where a conference room had been booked for the purpose, and told to show up the following morning.
The place was one of these impersonal places for business people and various executive events. He was to go to the Ivory Lounge, which was called this because it was painted in light beige.
Zach had been told the video director would be at the audition. He recognized Shaun Wainworth straight away; he smiled at the coincidence, but this type of things happened to him often. The Shaun was accompanied by another man with cameras. It was a small audition from Zach's experience.
More than an audition, it turned out to be a photo shooting. A photographer took pics of Zach walking, sitting, portraits. There was a bit of videoing too. It lasted rather long. When it was over, Zach was told he was hired straight away.
The photographer who worked for Shaun gave the young actor a card with an appointment for costumes the next day. He handed him a signed copy of a completely legitimate contract.
Zach came out, ecstatic. It was a bit more modeling than acting; this was better than nothing. From what he was told by Shaun as they talked, this was a music video for a 20-something pop-country artist; it was a ballad about how people are different yet yearn for the same thing. There would be lots of people of different ethnicities or looks featured. Zach was glad to be part of such a project.
The song was meant to be a global hit, and Shaun made good money on such jobs. Of course, his name had to be changed to preserve his horror movie directing credibility. Another thing he liked about these gigs was large castings; the bigger the pool to draw from, the more chances he had to find young men who would be the good target for his fantasies.
Zach walked out the room with appointments and a promise of money coming in shortly, even if it would not be a very big amount. He had things to look forward to.
Shaun looked a last time at the behind set in motion by two wonderful thighs. This was his Aladdin. He had to have Zach; have him, like keep him in the family mansion up north.
He could enact the plan he'd developed over fifteen years. The idea had been no more than a childhood fantasy at first. As he grew, his representation of Aladdin's gag scene had changed. Whereas in the beginning, he imagined being the boy in distress, he soon grew to be Jafar. The games with Chris Wilde didn't help much, since the young actor loved tight bonds and ruthless kidnapping role-plays. The taste for silencing gags had grown on them, and as they experimented with various ways to fill the mouth and seal the lips, Shaun thought more and more that he was the villain.
"Make sure he's never found…" This is where his imagination branched somewhere else. He was thirteen at the time, and he imagined himself being Jafar and saying these words. But then, the hefty guards put Aladdin in a trunk, and carried him to Jafar's palace, where they were to make sure he would be never found.
Then Jafar kept him in his dungeon. As years went by, and discovering other sources of depictions of male bondage, this peculiar fantasy had played in hundreds of ways in Shaun's mind. And as he had started earning money, he had imagined how to make some of these scenarios happen and made the family home a place where to enact them.
The birth of these fantasies had coincided with the moment when he'd lost Chris Wilde as a tie-up games partner. Chris was older than Shaun, and for him the games had become more explicitly erotic. Though he couldn't really ask Shaun to help him in this department, being the older kid, he still counted on Shaun's tendency to develop restraining tie-ups and thorough gags, as he got wilder and wilder reactions to the inescapable bindings Shaun put him into.
For this game, they had talked together a bit; Shaun had told Chris of his liking for Aladdin many times. Chris thought that maybe he could dress up as Aladdin; this would certainly pique the interest of his younger friend. Shaun liked the prospect very much; he sorted out his ropes and scarves carefully.
Chris made himself an Aladdin costume. He had some eggshell basketball shorts that went below the knee; they were getting to be a tight fit as Chris was now well into puberty and he'd gotten them when he was thirteen. They had a pleasant gloss, and would do. He had a large red silk scarf that he used as a belt and a tight purple waistcoat that completed the costume.
Shaun started with 'a spell', which was their way to start their games so there wouldn't be fights that risked to be lost by Shaun, as Chris didn't really want to be on the giving end. Chris was turned into a statue; of course, even in their fictional world, the spell didn't last forever; Shaun tackled the restraining quickly. After two minutes, the spell could have been off. With his arms so snugly bound behind him, his forearms bound tightly against each other; there was no way Chris could have fought off his smaller kidnapper.
Of course, to make sure he would never be found in the recreation room of the house, Shaun knew how to gag him to near perfect silence. He'd put several pieces of paper towel into a knee-high stocking he'd stolen from his mom's drawers. Chris opened wide and took the whole thing inside willingly. He cleave-gagged him with three turns of the cotton rope. He liked how this pulled the corners of Chris's mouth. His friend could no longer say a word. Shaun then added a wide white cotton bandage over the muffling setup.
Chris was in seventh heaven, and being marched to the basement by Shaun was not that easy, considering the boner he'd sprouted throughout the ordeal. The next two hours were a delight for him. There was the intense frustration of not being able to wank when he would have liked it so much, but the stories and comments Shaun made compensated for this.
He was bound to a metal chair, to a concrete pole, in a hogtie. His gag was removed to give him a quick drink, before being replaced and made even tighter.
All good things come to an end, alas! Shaun's mom got back home three hours earlier than planned. Shaun rushed upstairs when he heard her come; he had to divert her attention and make sure she wouldn’t ask about Chris. After ten minutes chatting, he grew impatient to get downstairs and free Chris. Chris was getting worried once he'd been left on his own.
It wasn't his calls that got Shaun caught; it was his conspicuous ways. His mom followed him; she was horrified to find the boy she was supposed to care for as he was a guest trussed up like a sausage, and making muffled screams from behind the gag. This didn't really look like child's play to her. She freed him swiftly, and let Shaun know they were to 'have a conversation'.
There were new accommodations for Chris’s stay the next day. Shaun got a long motherly talk on how much better he should behave and how nasty it was to kidnap his friends. It turned out Chris, thinking long-term about his career, let all the blame fall back upon Shaun's back. This was a very humiliating moment; this is when Shaun found out what betrayal could be.
His parents no longer had an interest in going to the Washington State manor. They didn't mind their son spending lots of times there. They thought he had a taste for the landscape, and the quasi gothic feel of the estate, with his interest for horror movies. Of course, with the tendencies he'd displayed from a very young age, they knew some kinky stuff could be going on when Shaun went there, but who were they to judge?
So Shaun had made it his second home. The young actors he'd brought up there had helped him to test the developments he'd made in some of the rooms; some were inspired by old fifties horror films; some were more the result of Shaun's fertile imagination when it came to kink. They made it rather easy to keep these young men restrained and gagged for days.
And now the time had come. Shaun could not forget the smiling brown eyes of the young man during the photo-shooting. And the round and firm buns above the slender thighs.
Chapter 4 – More auditions
Zach got to the studio half an hour early on the day of the shooting. He'd gone to see the costume designers the week before, and he'd been measured closely. He had never been so closely inspected. When the seamstress was done, she knew the size of all of his body parts; only his genitals had been spared; yet, there had been questions about how big he was down there; blushing, Zach had answered he was six inches at rest. There wasn’t a question about his size when erect; he sighed. He was told that all the actors had to look their best, and that a consequent budget was put into getting perfect looks.
After registering at the entrance, Zach went to make-up, and then he had to wait for his turn on set. The basic idea for the day was to shoot all of them in front of a green screen; they would then be set into various adapted settings thanks to digital imagery.
The costume people fitted him in his costume. For once, Zach's Middle Eastern appearance had been a blessing; he was to play the Persian prince and his costume looked even better than on the sketches he had been shown. All the actors or models illustrated diversity, which was the point of the video.
It was an off-white color, of the finest taffeta and silk, with a cape and a matching turban. Once he was dressed, with the cape over his shoulders, he looked at himself, not unhappy with what he saw. This looked vaguely familiar, but he couldn't pinpoint what it reminded him. His shooting only lasted a little less than half an hour. He had to walk, move around as requested and then vaguely interact with other actors; they hugged, they exchanged smiles. Everything was going real fats, and Zach could notice how busy everyone was.
Shaun Wainworth seemed very concerned with everything taking place on the set, and particularly of what was happening in front of the green screen. Zach noticed how intensely he looked at actors. His performance was closely scrutinized by the director.
Zach left after changing and having his make-up cleaned up; this had been a good time, and he hoped this would trigger some further jobs. All the people had seemed to admire his looks. Zach knew he was attractive, but he'd never really thought of this much. He hadn't been told over and over as a kid that he was the most handsome person in the world; now these movie people voiced out their admiration. Zach puffed up his chest. He felt good.
Shaun also felt good. He finished the rest of the shooting with the image of Zach playing over what he saw. He fought hard, so as not to let anything out of the ordinary transpire to the crew working around him. For his future plans, he needed to make sure no one had spotted his interest in Zach.
As he relaxed on his couch watching the rushes that evening, and playing those shots of Zach in his Prince Ababwa costume. The more he watched, the more he knew that this was no stroke of luck. This was fate. This was his destiny coming to fulfillment. There was some work to be done, but he knew how to do it; he knew how to get all the help needed.
"Make sure he's never found…" he whispered before exploding into a laughter that frightened the young costume designer apprentice he'd brought in for the evening and who now was ball-tied and hooded at his feet.
In the following week, investigations were performed, costumes and accessories ordered, henchmen summoned. As he ticked off his to-do list on his chart, he felt closer to this moment when he would see Zach again. Shaun had three weeks with not much on his schedule but a few appointments. It was nowhere as time-consuming as filming a movie.
He had thought of this before, but he really thought simplicity would help. Abducting Zach would be performed in a place with no video surveillance. He would be lured into a trap, bound, gagged, put inside a vehicle that was well equipped for such an endeavor, and driven up north by Shaun himself. The sixteen-hour drive had been planned in detail; Shaun usually flew up there and rented a car, but he knew the road and the places to avoid from the many times he'd driven there, either with his parents or as of late on his own.
On the following Friday morning, Shaun made a single phone call from an untraceable prepaid phone. He even drove a few miles to be sure the cell towers picking up the signal could not be linked to his living location.
"Shaun Wainworth calling. I'm currently working on a movie project. It's an adventure movie, and we're still wondering about the lead. You fit the character perfectly."
On the other end of the line, Shaun could hear the excitement he created.
"Uh, well, yes, and when do you want to meet?"
"That's why I called you straight away and didn't call the agency. You see, I'm leaving tomorrow for scouting locations for the movie, and I'm afraid if we don't meet today the studio will make the call for an actor I'm not too passionate about. You did great in the video, but this is a speaking part, and I can't go into a fight with the suits without being certain you can play it."
"Where should we meet?"
"I've booked the same room at the hotel where you auditioned for the video. There will be other people; there are a couple of other people I want to audition, for other parts, mainly. Still, it's low-key. As it's a bit tense with producers, I'd rather not feed the rumor-mill. So keep it hush-hush, will you?"
"No problem, Sir," Zach replied.
He knew how projects floundered in Hollywood if the wrong person was told of it; hence the necessary discretion of serious people.
"Can you be there at noon?"
Zach had nothing scheduled today, except for a little visit to the gym in the afternoon. He was to meet with Josh again, but not before the Monday, as he would be busy working all weekend.
Zach's next two hours went fast. He thought of how to act, though he hadn't been told what this movie was about. After shaving, showering and dressing up a bit with a polo and jacket, Zach left for the appointment. His sunglasses made him feel like a movie star trying to escape paparazzi.
When he reached the Ivory Lounge, he found an inkjet-printed notice on the door: 'Audition will be held in Room 212'. Could this be the hush-hush way that had required a last minute change? He didn't think about it too much. Zach took the stairs, which saved him crossing the lobby to the lifts.
He knocked on the door of Room 212. It was Wainworth himself who'd come and open the door.
"Zach! You made it! I wasn't sure, from your tone…"
"Oh no, Mr. Wainworth, I'm very interested in your project."
"Good, good. Come in."
It was a suite; not a huge one, but there was some big living room with a couch and armchairs and there had to be a bedroom next; and obviously, a bathroom. There were two men sitting there already.
Zach greeted them; they cheerfully replied.
"Meet Ted and Bill, they're here to audition for another part. I think you might even have a reading together. The idea of trying you in the role came from the video shooting. The costume you wore is not the perfect one for our try, but it is quite close. I've gotten it from the costume department; it's in the bedroom, let's go and get you dressed."
Zach remembered he looked good in the outfit. He followed Shaun to a bedroom at the end of the suite. His previous costume was laid on the bed. Shaun helped him to put it on. Zach noticed how he was watched. He was getting used to being ogled by older men, and if it could land him a part in a major motion picture, this was a small price to pay
They went back to the suite. ‘Ted and Bill’ looked at him; once again, he saw admiration in their eyes.
“OK, people, we’re going to try for a basic scene. The character has memories of a scene that impressed him much as a child. You must have seen Aladdin.”
The three applicants nodded.
“So we’ve got this scene at the beginning of the movie when the lead character, that’s your part, Zach, has a dream after seeing the scene on cable one night. He dreams that he himself is being kidnapped by you, Ted and Bill, who will play the Vizier’s henchmen. Later on in the movie, it turns out that the hero’s antagonists happen to be the thugs he has a run-in with.”
Zach could see the scene. Considering his own fantasies, he felt a little thrill running down his spine. This Aladdin scene was hot. It had scared him when he’d seen it as a child; as he’d watched it again, knowing the character would eventually be rescued, he’d gone to liking it a lot. The bound and gagged cartoon hero fueled his tie-up dreams.
“What we’re checking with this screen test is how you look for some tie-up action. There isn’t any dialogue, and we’ll try other scenes with lines to say later on.”
Zach had heard rumors about Shaun Wainworth’s liking for bondage. Well, if looking good tied up earned him a lead role, as it was what he was apparently being tested for...
“Zach, you will stand facing the camera. Look a bit behind and above, like you’re looking at a starry sky. Then Ted and Bill catch you from behind. Ted, you handgag him while Bill grabs his wrists. Then you both bring him down to the floor. Bill, you shackle him while Ted ties a white scarf across his face as a gag.”
This seemed straightforward enough. Zach wondered whether it could be as much fun as with Josh. It took a couple more minutes so Shaun could do another explanation of the scene, giving indications as to the length of each movement.
“You should work as a team, people. What matters is what will be seen by the camera, so work together so it looks convincing.”
Shaun went behind the big high-range professional digital camera. It had convinced Zach that the whole set-up was legit, apparently. The young man stood proudly, dressed in his Persian Prince costume; he had some chops at acting, Shaun thought. Being able to stand in front of a camera and pretend no one was there wasn’t a thing he got from all his actors.
So Zach was looking at an imaginary sky while the two goons closed in on him. Ted and Bill were well rehearsed too. Their timing was perfect. Ted clamped a big hand over the boy’s mouth, who opened wide eyes as they pushed him to the floor. Bill was skilled with restraints, and Zach only pretended his arms were flailing. His wrists were quickly chained behind his back, with Ted gagging him at the same time. Zach found it very exciting. He was glad he was wearing briefs rather than boxers; this was a little arousing.
Once Bill had pretended to knock him out with a blow to the back of his head, which didn’t result in blunt force trauma in the fictional world, Zach lied on his belly.
“Cut! Not bad for a first try, gentlemen. This is quite convincing.”
Zach lifted his head, looking at them. The faint praise pleased him.
“Could we do it again? I’d like to see a tad more surprise and indignation from you, Zach, and more villainy looks on your faces, Ted and Bill. Then we can move on to the next scene.”
Ted and Bill unshackled Zach, who pulled down the mock gag they’d bound across his mouth. He handed the white scarf to Ted.
“Everybody gets back in position.”
Zach focused so he’d be ready to cast pleading looks once he would be seized. This time, the assault was swifter, and Zach didn’t need to pretend that he couldn’t call as Ted’s hand was the first sign of the attack, and that, try as he might, his attempts at shouting were thwarted by the big, sweaty hand.
He was on his belly, Bill restraining his wrists. But contrary to the instructions, they changed the sequence somehow. While he was still being handgagged by Ted, Bill shackled his ankles also. Wasn’t he supposed to do it as the gag was put on him?
“Not a move and not a sound, Prince Abooboo, or we will retaliate,” Ted whispered into his ear.
Something wasn’t going according to plan. Zach squirmed, but the chains and cuffs were not children’s toys. Bill joined Ted. The hand was gone briefly. Zach needed to say they were ruining the scene. He opened his mouth to protest; a ball of slippery material glided between his lips, filling his mouth soon. The scarf that had been tied across his mouth previously was used to cleave-gag him.
Zach wondered what was going on. A smirk from Shaun gave away the plot.
“Much, much better this time, boys,” he said, addressing Ted and Bill. “Why don’t you give our friend a seat so he may enjoy what’s up next.”
Zach kept grunting and grumbling, but his muffled attempts got anything but laughter.
“We sure will, boss,” Bill said with a chuckle in his voice.
Last edited by Bondwriter
on Sat Sep 03, 2016 11:06 pm, edited 16 times in total.