The New Adventures of Simon: Simon and the Wicked Brothers, chapter 9, April 23rd

Fictional Stories of Males tying up Males

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Bondwriter
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The New Adventures of Simon: Simon and the Wicked Brothers, chapter 9, April 23rd

Postby Bondwriter » Wed May 04, 2016 8:40 pm

This is the sequel to the first set of adventures of Simon.
There were requests for more Simon a couple years back and I've written a few more stories taking place three years after the events in the Birthday Party story. I had actually posted one called A Nasty Prank, which I'll post back in the PG 17 section. But it disappeared from the board for one reason or another.
This first one was eventually completed a few days ago, and it's OK for this section. It takes place before A Nasty Prank, when Simon finally meets Wilhelm again.
Two chapters to start with, with four more to come in one-chapter installments.

Reunion

A Simon and Wilhelm adventure

By Bondwriter


Chapter 1 – Back from the Past

Simon only had two seconds before he fainted, but it was long enough for him to identify the hand that clamped the sickly smelling pad over his nose and mouth. It wasn’t chloroform, but Simon’s kicks and fighting fainted quickly nevertheless. Just before he could no longer fight, he understood from the smell and the touch that he was being kidnapped by Wilhelm.

It had been over three years since Wilhelm and Simon’s paths had crossed. Simon had been performing at Wilhelm’s little brother’s birthday party. The performance with Stilo had gone wrong. They didn’t know at the time, but cigar smoke got Stilo to go slightly over the top. He’d left Simon tied to a tree as they had given a personal performance to Wilhelm, who took the opportunity to kidnap Simon.

He hid him in the estate for three days. Simon had been freed eventually; Stilo had recovered his senses and Wilhelm’s behaviour had attracting enough attention to bring the rescue party to the little shed where Simon was kept. He had just managed to free himself when they’d found him with Wilhelm’s brother. Despite the awful ordeal, Simon was untying Friedrich when Stilo and Wilhelm’s father had burst into the shed.

Wilhelm had been sent to the nut house. Simon never heard of him again; the circus led him to new horizons and a number of adventures, especially when the circus was small, but the last eighteen months had seen much better conditions.

Simon and Stilo’s numbers were getting better and more spectacular. They put up routines with a narrative, featuring three or four mind-blowing tricks in them. One of these numbers showed thieves – the acrobats in disguise – taking hold of Simon, binding and gagging him and then putting him inside a big wardrobe.

Playing the role of a wizard, Stilo, much unaware of the fact, kept on casting spells and Simon moved location every time. The thieves searched the chests, the closets, and they always lifted a panel or opened a door showing the poor bound and gagged Simon being moved around by Stilo’s spells.

It didn’t really make sense, but crowds loved it. The extra revenue they attracted helped the other numbers look better. New artists lined up to join the circus, but only very talented ones were admitted. It worked better and better, and all those hard times were starting to be a long while away.

Simon enjoyed his job; he wanted to own a theatre, and he learned a lot. He knew he would be educated too, as he planned to go to university, with Stilo’s support. He was taking lessons by mail, and he was sharp. There was no doubt he would do well in higher education.

The circus had started an European tour six months previous: Italy, Germany, France, Holland had welcomed the American artists warmly; for our young redheaded escape artist, the journey had been an opportunity for discovering this Old World he’d been told about so many times. He was looking forward to the last stretch of the tour, when he would discover the land he came from, Ireland.

Already, having crossed the Channel made communication with locals easier. Simon managed well thanks to his skills for body language, but it was nicer when people spoke a language you understood. Of course, the Brits sounded a bit strange, but Simon quickly picked up on the weird accent.

There was still one more performance left in the town the circus had settled in. This meant that Simon could head back to his caravan early after the show; tomorrow, he would have to help take down the big top; today, he could go to sleep after a lengthy day of labour. He would put some clothes on, as he was still wearing his stage costume that left his legs and torso bare. He was thinking of the cup of tea he’d have, a local custom he enjoyed.

The chemical he was forced to breathe by the person who’d assaulted him was no tea, but it didn’t put him fully to sleep; his body went limp, and his perception of the outside world became foggy. He was helped down to the floor, while in the first grasp of his attacker.

Lying face down, he felt the hand keeping the chemical-soaked wad over his mouth relieve its pressure. Simon tried to scream, but he realized that his vocal chords were numb as well. A faint gurgling sound came out before the hand covered his mouth again.

“Hush, Simon. There’s no need for you to fight back. You can hear me, I know. You’re paralyzed for at least ten minutes. And once you recover, you can trust your friend Wilhelm for having turned you into a tightly restrained parcel, all bound and gagged to be shipped home.”

He felt ropes wrapped around his bare limbs, with coils tightening; he just couldn’t react and his senses failed him. His mind reeled with this distorted feeling of Wilhelm’s touch as he straddled him when he needed to move to improve his rope work.

“I’ve been longing for this moment, my young escape artist friend. For three years I thought about you quite often,” Wilhelm said as he finished tying Simon’s elbows together, “ imagining how great it would be to have you as my prisoner for an equally long time.”

Simon had thought about his ordeals at the hands of the older teenager too. Late at night he found himself recollecting the kidnapping adventures. As he had grown up and discovered how his penis could be used beyond relieving his bladder, he’d linked his reactions to a fantasy of being the Lederhosen-clad boy.

“These ropes should hold you properly. Let me make sure you remain quiet as I carry you outside.”

Simon’s vocal chords were still numb from the chemical , but his gurgling could be noticed slightly more. To mute even this faint noise, Wilhelm crammed a ball of silk inside the redhead’s mouth.

“You remember my taste for effective gags, my little captive?”

Simon did remember, and though he’d met quite a few villains who’d used intensely muting gags since his adventures at Wilhelm’s, the skill and know-how of the blond captor were high on the list of most thorough gag experts. His red ball gag was stuck between his lips and tightly buckled over his neck, making the silk ball expand and wedge his mouth slightly open, with no hope to exhale any air, let alone make himself heard.

It was then topped by a leather piece that would keep his jaws locked and heighten the pressure of the stuffing in his mouth. When Simon saw the apparatus, he knew it would really make his calling for help impossible. This particular piece of equipment looked like it would cover his lips and effectively seal them, as the leather would keep his lower jaw pulled tightly upwards. This was Wilhelm for sure.

Simon remembered all too well how thoroughly he had been silenced when he’d been under Wilhelm’s control. He had experienced more gags since, with the various kidnappings he’d been the target of, and with the experiments he’d undertaken with his various tie-up assistants.

“Your vocal chords should work anytime now, but I think this nice stuffing and the rest of the masterful gagging should prevent any unwanted noise. Don’t worry, Simon, this time I won’t make any mistake, and rest assured you won’t scream for help. I know of ways, remember?”

The talking went on as Wilhelm made the final touch to his trussing up, reinforcing the ropes with criss-crosses and frapping knots that tightened the ropes restraining Simon’s limbs.

Then the young escape artist was laid at the edge of a blanket; Wilhelm rolled him inside, until he was within three layers of thick wool. It was one situation Simon had learned to handle; escape was possible. It would take time; more restraining layers meant his escaping required both more finesse and brute force, depending on the stage of the escape.

“I know you must be thinking that ropes can be defeated. They can, actually. There’s no challenge now, though. If I catch you trying to escape, I’ll bind you further; I regret being so lenient already.”

Simon couldn’t help but grunt in disagreement, a hearty laughter replying to his muffled plea.

“Ha! Ha! I’m glad you didn’t lose your fighting spirit after all those years. This will enhance my pleasure at keeping you captive.”

The straps and ropes that mummified Simon inside the blanket were carefully woven around him.

“We’ll be on our way now, my little prisoner. I’ve got to get you home as discretely as possible, and holding you as tight as a bug in a rug is a good start,” Wilhelm said as he kneeled down to get Simon on his shoulder, holding to his legs as his body was folded in two at the hips.

They went out in the night. No one could be seen or heard, and the walk was short, as Simon was soon put in the back of a big vehicle; it had to be some kind of truck, or a lorry to use the local lingo.

“I’ll strap you so you don’t roll around and hurt yourself.”

Simon could feel he was being anchored to the bottom of the truck he had been brought into. Six points of anchoring, if he counted well.

“All set for travelling, Simon,” Wilhelm whispered, “It’s going to take a little while but then I’m sure you’ll be glad to discover your new home.”

Simon heard a door being slammed, an engine starting. Wilhelm had certainly planned his abduction carefully. Simon focussed on escaping while he was left in the back.

Eventually, Simon found the weakness in the set-up. He had to twist around a bit, but he felt he could get his right elbow loose. From there, he would free his wrist and then it wouldn’t take him more than thirty seconds to be completely rid of his bonds and restraints.

He started this task wholeheartedly; soon he’d managed to free his elbow as foreseen. The wrist proved more difficult because of the extra restraints holding him to the floor of the lorry.

At last his wrist was free; Simon started twisting around to remove the rest of the ropes, but the straps around the blankets and these bonds keeping him pinned down to the metal hampered his progress.

The vehicle stopped all of a sudden. A door slammed shut, certainly the driver’s. Steps went around the vehicle.

“We’re home, Simon, let me get you out…”

Wilhelm had opened the back latch which allowed him to guess how far Simon had gotten into his escape attempt. The young escape artist got all frantic, mewling into his gag and shaking within the confines of the bundling blanket.

“Uh oh, it seems I have a guest who’s trying to worm his way out of my bonds. This won’t do!”

Wilhelm had already jumped into the lorry, and his hands were feeling for Simon’s arms through the wool. Straddling his captive, he released the straps pinning him to the bottom. Putting all of his weight on the boy’s waist, he felt confident that his prisoner wouldn’t be able to pull a dirty trick.

The elbows were still restrained; he tightened the straps and belts that coiled around them. He grabbed another strap from the bag lying next to the captive boy, and used it to pin Simon’s forearms to his sides again.

Chapter 2 – Overnight Stay

“It seems you’ve improved, I wasn’t sure you’d pass this test. I’d advise you to quit twisting once I carry you. You wouldn’t want to fall head first, would you?”

Simon had already been pulled to the side of the platform, and Wilhelm’s arms wrapped around his waist before his abductor hauled him up onto his shoulder. With his head turned to the ground, Simon tried to get a grasp of his environment. It was dark, but he detected the smell of the countryside.

Wilhelm took a few steps before Simon felt him twisting around, using one of his arms to grab something from his pocket. The sound of a door being latched open was unmistakable. Wilhelm stepped in, turned around to shut it and he then switched the light on. The weak glow of a light bulb was cast on the inside of a small cottage,

“We’ve driven enough for the day, Simon. I need some rest, and so do you. I’ve rented a room we may have some privacy in. The landlady lives on the other side of this wall,” he said, having put Simon down on his feet, “and I’m afraid she’s really deaf, so I doubt she’d hear anything even if you were able to scream at the top of your lungs.”

Simon was looking around. This was a medium-sized room, with a table, two chairs and a couch on one side, and a sink next to a stove on the other. There were beams in the middle, the apparent remnants of a partition wall. The one in the middle was straight and Simon had a hunch this would play a role in restraining him. Wilhelm had positioned him so he would face the wooden post. The blond kidnapper noticed Simon’s gaze, after having swept the room, focused on this fixture in front of him.

“Glad it catches your interest,” Wilhelm said as he opened a large chest that lay behind the table, “which is good since you’re going to get better acquainted with this sturdy beam. Let me get some ropes, this should bring back memories.”

Once many coils were laid at the foot of the pole, it was time to get Simon out of the wrapped up blanket and straps. Cuffs came out of Wilhelm’s pocket. Simon knew the model, these were really hard to pick; as they snatched around his wrists, his arms were now pulled behind him. Wilhelm was still stronger than he was, although not much. Simon had grown up since their first encounter, but Wilhelm had a positional advantage and he knew how to free only one limb at a time.

Simon was made to stand against the post, and a rope came around his waist, which pulled him against it. From there, the weaving started; Wilhelm had gotten even better with time, and had probably practiced on some poor boy. Coils restrained Simon at eight places, from his shoulders to his ankles, and then a long doubled up rope was threaded so as to pull him further to the beam.

Wilhelm made sure Simon’s elbows were stringently bound to each other and to the post. This was a major factor in making an escape difficult, if not impossible.

It did bring back memories. The touch of the knot enthusiast was quite similar, his fingers were just more nervous and soon, Wilhelm got the satisfaction of removing the handcuffs; with an expert escapist, it was more challenging without chains. Of course, he’d have to keep an eye on the captive, but he didn’t mind since it was a real treat.

Simon’s blue silk briefs now were filled with the evidence he’d turned into a young man. Wilhelm enjoyed the fact that he hadn’t much changed his circus costume. He had only very fair hair covering his legs. The gag enhanced his eyes. The dark brown leather had been picked to produce this effect.

“It’s like I’ve never left you, my handsome escape artist. I plan to have you please my eyes for a very long time. I have costumes for you. For now, I’ll give you a sip of water to drink before I get to sleep. It’s late, and we have a long day tomorrow.

Wilhelm approached with a bottle. He removed the gagging layers one by one. Once the stuffing was removed, he brought the bottle to Simon’s lips. The captive knew better than trying to scream, with Wilhelm’s wide hand so close; the bottle was being taken away from his lips after he had gulped quite a bit of the refreshing liquid when there was a knock at the door.

Simon saw surprise over Wilhelm’s face. He didn’t seem to be waiting for anyone. There wasn’t anything to lose, so he tried his luck.

“Helphmm! Mmmmbllmmm!”

There had been a yelp that had lasted a fifth of a second, but already Wilhelm had handgagged him.

“Oh, no, you won’t…”

The hand was removed slowly, and Wilhelm opened his jaws as he slid the soaked wadding inside the boy’s mouth. From there, the gagging was swift and effective: the ball was crammed over the packing and the straps were quickly buckled at the nape of his neck.

Wilhelm, having prevented any major screaming, could rush to the door. He opened it, making sure no one outside could see inside the cottage; Simon could hear the conversation. It was the voice of an elderly lady, who wanted to know if her young tenant wanted tea or coffee in the morning.

Simon yelled, but he only managed a “Mmmph” that was inarticulate and subdued. Wilhelm was taking his time, even venturing into casual talk.

“Thanks for asking, Mrs Wilkins. I’m quite grateful you come to ask, even so late. I sure would love some tea in the morning. Do you know what the weather will be like tomorrow?”

“Oh, it should be cloudy, but I don’t think it’ll rain. The clouds were quite light, and my rheumatism don’t bother me…”

“Mmmmmmmmm…”

This went on for another two minutes, and Simon felt like he was miles away from the chatting pair. Eventually, the old lady wished Wilhelm a good night. He waited for a few seconds after closing the door. He spun on his heel, a feral grin on his face.

“The old biddy didn’t have a clue you were here. I can’t believe she was up so late. But this made for an interesting challenge. Which I won, by the way.”

The satisfaction the kidnapper derived from keeping Simon out of earshot from anybody was one of his great joys; Simon was troubled by the memories of these moments when Wilhelm had managed to keep him hidden from people in his large Kansas estate. Such memories had popped up in his dreams a rather high number of times; people also reminded him of the dire adventure, which had struck some people’s attention. The physiological response to the situation was in line with these moments. Alas, Wilhelm noticed…

“My, my, Simon, it seems you’ve grown a bit bigger down there,” he said, pointing to Simon’s crotch, “I’ve suspected since you were snatched away from me that you did get some strange kick out of being all trussed up and gagged. Talking of which, it’s time I make sure you can’t warn the nosy neighbour of your presence. You know how kind I am; I’ll muzzle you so it’s comfortable enough for you to sleep.”

He went to his bag and picked up a wide scarf. He came and removed the red rubber ball that was held by its stringent leather straps that were biting into Simon’s neck. The wet stuffing was removed once again, but the scarf had been balled up and it slid inside Simon’s mouth effortlessly.

“Suck on it, my little ginger. I’ve made sure it would taste of me.”

As Simon’s tongue came into contact with the fabric, he recognized the taste. Simon had squirted some juice when masturbating for over two years, and he’d licked his own emissions a few times. As he moved his jaws, producing saliva, he could detect Wilhelm had wanked in the silky fabric more than once. It had left a thick crust.

“I wouldn’t want you to quit laundering my hankie too soon, my boy, so a little taping is in order.”

Wilhelm kept a hand clamped over Simon’s face and mouth, and his bottomless pockets yielded a roll of tape. He’d introduced Simon to the fiendish material, which made for very thorough imprisoning of the mouth. Five wide strips were plastered over the boy’s lower face. There was no turn around his head. Simon expected gauze, or a rubber cap, which had been used that first time when he was in Wilhelm’s clutches. But a more elaborate solution had been picked from his abductor’s bag of tricks.

“A fine leather hood I’ve had made just for you, Simon!”

He stuck his hands inside, and Simon could see that there was an opening in front, but that it would go down to the base of his neck. Wilhelm carefully slid the thin layer of leather over his head; the opening let his eyes and nose visible, but it spread down his neck. Wilhelm adjusted the garment so it would be aligned with Simon’s regular features.

The tightening of a lace at the back started, from just under the crown of his hair to the bottom, which reached well over his spine. The smell and touch of the kid leather tightening over his head confused him, as he was further aroused. He’d been hooded when he’d been kidnapped by the maniac in California, but this was more like a sack pulled over his head; it blinded him, whereas this contraption was the product of some skilled craftsman.

“All done; I think you’re ready for the night. I’m a light sleeper, but I doubt you now can wake me up.”

Wilhelm’s hands slid down Simon flanks, landing on the bulge tenting his gleaming underwear. Wilhelm’s hand had a touch which had nothing to do with the one he used when he was engaged in ropework. His hands were caressing, and they cupped his genitals lightly; Wilhelm was feeling the length of his dick with his index finger.

“Mmmmph…” Simon wailed and instantly regretted this moan; it was a hint that he liked the situation.

“You know, Simon, I’m glad to see you again too!”

The smile was genuine; Wilhelm seemed relaxed, standing in front of the captive pressed against his post.

“I might put your mind at ease, my handsome prisoner. I no longer feel like making away with you. You see, Simon, I’ve changed a lot since I escaped from the asylum where I had been locked up. And I’ve learned trades and skills over here in England. I’ve worked as a tailor and as a locksmith. I must say that you’ve been on my mind all this time. I’ve longed for having you as my prisoner; to be more accurate, I’ve dreamed about having you as a pet. A cute, obedient little mutt whom I’d handle with care. So I’ve planned a training program for you; at the end of this, I’m sure you will want to stay my guest forever. You’d better, for I have also developed my kidnapping skills, and I can safely say you won’t be able to play your Houdini tricks on me. But enough babbling. I’m feeling tired, so I’m going to sleep.”

Simon was wondering what was in store for him. He looked at Wilhelm, who was heading to the chest. He picked up his sleeping outfit. It was a dark grey satin suit, which was cut to fit Wilhelm closely. Simon admired how well it was cut once his kidnapper had dropped off the thick canvas pants and jackets that gave him the look of an actual truck driver.

His uncovered body was a sight to see, and the bound redhead had an appreciative eye for the well toned, lean and muscular young man who’d imprisoned him. The clothes he slid in didn’t make the show any less appealing, on the contrary.

He ended the dressing up by putting kid leather gloves on. They covered up to the wrist; they were tight, but Wilhelm’s relentless efforts eventually paid. The made-to-measure accessories stuck closely to the flesh beneath, its gleam allowing seeing the slightest move underneath.

Simon was overwhelmed by the rush of feelings going through his mind. Wilhelm approached him; Simon could read the lecherous look over his face. It broke into a feral grin.

“You’ve behaved reasonably well, except of course for the escape attempt, but it will be dealt with another day. I wouldn’t mind you get a small reward.”

The gesture that came next made quite explicit the nature of the reward: the gloved right hand cupped Simon’s silk-covered genitals.

“A little package all tight and taut. Oh! It twitches when I brush against its tip. Himmel, Simon! You want me to go on, don’t you.”

The rubbing was meant to discover the most sensitive spots; Wilhelm had learned how to assess what was the best way to give another man pleasure, and he relished the idea of discovering what caused Simon’s strongest reactions to being masturbated. He was now rolling the prisoner’s glans between his thumb and index finger.

In hindsight, it wasn’t a surprise that Simon spurt his cream in no time, considering the caress was meant for this. Wilhelm had imagined his game could go on for much longer, though. He would have to learn how to best handle the ginger Houdini not to let him climax. Having removed his hand when Simon started cumming inside his briefs, Wilhelm stood in front of his prisoner again.

“My, my, my! I think I haven’t seen many boys get to the end so quickly before. One or two, maybe, but you must have broken their record. I’d say you are going to be lots of fun to train in this area too. Since you don’t feel like playing much longer, there’s no reason I spare any more efforts, myself. I’m really going to sleep this time. I’ll cover you first…”

The blanket he was brought in was wrapped around Simon’s erect form, with the customary straps to keep them from falling. With his prisoner kept warm, Wilhelm picked up the thin mattress from the cot with the sheets and blanket on, and he laid it at his captive’s feet.

“One last thing…”

He had a roll of fishing line. He fumbled with the blankets at Simon’s waist level, to temporarily uncover the boy’s hands. He tied a loop around the boy’s pinkies, and threaded it down the pole; he put the blankets back on so the insulating effect wasn’t marred and unrolled the thin line until he was lying down.

“The other end of the line is tied around my pinkie, so if you twitch or manage to free your hands while I sleep, I should be warned early enough to see to it that even the idea of an escape would cause you to sweat…”

With that, Wilhelm dunked under the blankets and fell silent. After two minutes, his slow and regular breathing indicated he was fast asleep. Simon twitched around, careful not to pull on the fishing line; yet testing bonds and restraints was a second nature to him, and he had to check whether he could work his magic on Wilhelm’s knots. It seemed unlikely.

He relaxed and let go; if he could catch a little rest. He could smell leather under his nostrils, and a warm scent came from below—Wilhelm’s. But Simon wasn’t sure he wasn’t imagining it; this made the whole experience special. He thought he’d never meet Wilhelm again, and he was, being his prisoner in a remote place in the English countryside.

Sleep came and went; the moments in between had chunks of sentences and fugitive sights rushing through his head. They all had to do with what had happened to Simon the first time, and the words that Wilhelm had spoken to ‘welcome’ him once he’d been completely trussed up to the pole; the perspective of living this situation was both maddening,:he was deprived of freedom, yet he couldn’t help being exceptionally aroused.
Last edited by Bondwriter on Sun Apr 23, 2017 12:44 am, edited 12 times in total.

claus13
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Re: The New Adventures of Simon: Reunion

Postby claus13 » Thu May 05, 2016 1:05 pm

A interesting new meeting. I'm fuul of exspectation for the next parts.

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Re: The New Adventures of Simon: Reunion

Postby Jack Roper » Thu May 05, 2016 4:57 pm

Thanks Bondwriter. I was wondering if these two were ever going to meet again. Maybe they were meant for each other after all.

Bondwriter
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Re: The New Adventures of Simon: Reunion

Postby Bondwriter » Thu May 05, 2016 8:20 pm

Thanks for the comments, guys. Yes, it felt like they should meet again and they're in for many adventures ahead.
By the way, if anyone's interested in proofreading the whole stuff, help is welcome.

Veracity

Re: The New Adventures of Simon: Reunion

Postby Veracity » Thu May 05, 2016 9:40 pm

I am ridiculously excited to see this here. It's like meeting an old friend after a long absence.

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New Adventures of Simon: Reunion Chapter 3

Postby Bondwriter » Fri May 06, 2016 12:41 am

With such a flood of positive comments, I feel compelled to add a chapter before the board is off for updates.
Enjoy!

Chapter 3 – Welcome To Your New Home

The night went by slowly, but it was Wilhelm pulling over the fishing line, which woke the captive up. The pulling of his fingers got Simon to drift back to reality, leaving the dream in which Wilhelm took him down to the basement of a large house whose stairs went down for miles, with Wilhelm coaxing him with the prospect of rewards and further erotic treatments.

“I’ll go have some tea with Mrs. Wilkins, Simon, and then I’ll come back to get you ready for the journey,” Wilhelm said as he slipped his work clothes over his refined pyjamas.

The door slammed shut three minutes later, Simon remaining by himself in his unchanged position. It was high time he could use his escaping skills It turned out that none of the mistakes the circus aides used for his numbers had been made this time. Beyond using tricked rope, accomplices who bound him always made a voluntary mistake, resulting in a tie that looked impressive but that could be slipped out of.

Wilhelm was no participant in a circus show. His rope was first rate and had very little yield. Grunts accompanied the efforts, but this was no good, and no progress whatsoever had been made when Wilhelm came back half and hour later, pushing a large contraption on wheels.

“Time to move on, Simon. I might have given you the impression this would become your residence, but it’s not. I have an even better location where I can keep you and have you become my best friend.”

He was pushing a crate that was on top of a gurney. It was the size of a small coffin. Simon had no doubt he was meant to be put in it.

“This is my special guest case. On top of learning honest trades, I’ve also honed my kidnapper skills. This is a good way to earn large amounts of money in very little time. Of course, it works only if you plan carefully and make all the necessary leg work before so it’s hassle-free. I’ve never had a problem identifying a proper target, acquiring it and then getting a ransom. You need to assess properly what the ransom should be, which means you can’t abduct a boy at random. You need to make it high enough so you’re deemed serious, while still making sure the parents or tutors have the means to get all this money. But once this is all set, it can be pulled out in less than forty-eight hours.”

This didn’t surprise Simon in the least. Of course, Wilhelm would have been able to set up a kidnapping like no one. He opened the lid of the crate, and Simon could see that Wilhelm had procured the means to his endeavours.

Simon’s trade had gotten him to get close to dozens of crates or confined spaces which he, or other circus artists like the magician’s assistants, would get in; depending on the number, they would switch to another similar crate, be split in two, or disappear only to reappear at the back of the audience, unscathed after having mysteriously escaped the grisly fate the restraints made a certainty. The audience was baffled, and it attracted a bigger crowd the next day, and the day after.

These accessories needed to be crafted well, so any trickery would be concealed. As Simon and Stilo had purchased such contraptions, the boy had learned to appraise the quality of the wares they were presented. Simon knew the value of things, and he wasn’t the one to squander luscious amounts on a trick that they’d have to give up because the audience could see the treachery.

This crate wasn’t meant for show. It aimed at keeping people inside; it didn’t feature a trick exit. Simon spotted the sturdy build and the absence of any removable panel straight away. It was very expertly crafted nonetheless: leather cuffs with iron buckles were positioned at various points. The cuffs were fixed onto rails, so there could be adjustments depending on the size of the occupant. They seemed resistant and thoughtfully laid out.

Padding was stuck at various places: the neck, the waist, the knees, so it would prevent a poor boy being stored in it for transportation any motion that could cause a shock and hence a noise that could be heard outside.

The transition from the pole to the transportation crate took a little under an hour. There were many safety measures to be enacted by Wilhelm; this meant nothing could be made in a straightforward and fast manner. Eventually, though, Simon was lying inside his back inside the crate.

Wilhelm checked on the cuffs pinning him inside one by one. The hood needed a little tug to be perfectly lined up with his head. There had been a quick drink before, which meant Wilhelm had had the pleasure of removing the hood and the gagging layers underneath; he had not stalled when it had been time to silence Simon again. The hood was really a good size estimate, and having been worn all night by Simon, the leather had somewhat taken the shape of his skull and jaws.

“The crate has small rails on the side, which you saw, no doubt. They glide through roller bearings so it’s easy to slide it under the lorry’s floor. The panel at the back hides the hidden compartment, and you’ll be the fourth person to be transported this way. It’s taken me almost a week to set it up, but this is a handy feature for a kidnapper. Now you feel how the padding holding you with the restraints on top make you helplessly immobile. Another two to tighten, and you’ll be all set.”

Once the tightness was optimal, Wilhelm took a few minutes to admire the final result. It was simple, and the position was not utterly intolerable. Simon was on his back, his arms along his body, except each of them was anchored at four points to the wooden container. The same was true of his legs.

When eventually Wilhelm closed the lid shut, the darkness and the touch of the wooden lid lightly pressing over his chest made Simon realize there was little he could do to escape this nasty trap. He felt the crate being pushed. The gurney had very good wheels, and it went smoothly; Simon couldn’t tell he was being wheeled outside; he felt an upward motion, as Wilhelm tipped the crate to have it slide inside its secret chamber.

The panel behind was shut and locked, which Simon heard. Several minutes passed without any noise or motion; Simon was starting to wonder whether he was fully isolated and hence couldn’t pick on any motion from the truck when this misconception was proved wrong by the sound and vibrations from a large engine.

This was an actual ordeal; Simon wasn’t claustrophobic, which would have made his job impossible; he wasn’t used to long durations inside such a cramped space, bound, gagged and helplessly restrained to the walls of a coffin.

The lorry stopped from time to time. He heard voices outside; they were faint, but he discerned two speakers. The fiendish gag made his attempts at yelling a silly gurgle. No doubt one of the speakers was Wilhelm, getting some enjoyment from knowing a couple feet away, Simon had to accept his fate.

Eventually, the lorry stopped for good. The panel behind him was unlocked, and the crate slid on its rails to be laid upon the gurney. There was more wheeling, the sound of a door opening, closing as the trolley was pushed ahead.

The lid opened. Simon blinked; the light was faint, yet he’d been plunged into darkness for a lifetime now.

“You seem to be doing fine. We’re home, Simon!”

All Simon could see was a ceiling, white, and Wilhelm towering over him. He was at his side, smiling.

“I’ll take you out from the crate. You might need to relieve yourself after such a long time inside your crate.”

Wilhelm was wearing his leather gloves. He sniffed around as he leaned towards the redhead captive inside the crate.

“You’ve been warm, haven’t you? You’ve sweated quite a bit. I’ll feed you and I clean you next.”

The routine started, Wilhelm never forgetting to link a limb before moving to the next, so he had him out of the crate only to be fettered with chains locked to cuffs. The rest of the handling was performed flawlessly too; Simon was too focused in obtaining the benefits from the care he was provided to jeopardize it by being difficult. Wilhelm had not turned into a harmless lamb yet.

Simon also took in his new environment. They were still in the countryside, possibly at a more remote location. There were curtains at the windows, but he could see green and the faint glow of the sunset outside, so there was a garden or a meadow.

The inside was definitely a rural setting. The walls were painted white, so it was difficult to see what they were made out of; the tiles were dark red stone. They weren’t worn, so it could be a building that was recent. Or a location that didn’t have many visitors.

There was a small room with rudimentary toilets and a sink with a faucet, so hygiene could be handled. There was a stove and a hearth in what had to be a kitchen, with a table and four chairs. Simon had been taken out of his crate in the next room, which was an entrance hall, a living room and a bedroom at the same time.

“This is a hunting lodge I’ve bought from a good friend of mine.”

Simon was reacquainted with Wilhelm now; he read his smirk. There was more to this purchase, and no doubt there was another story to be told, involving some kidnapping or other devious scheme involving Wilhelm.

Simon entered the room, prodded by his captor now that he’d been relieved, fed and watered. And gagged anew; but with a fresh, clean silk scarf as wadding and two others to keep the first one, one pulled between his teeth and a covering one on top.

“And I bring game back to the lodge. Now, securing the wild animal so I’m sure he won’t flee.”

Wilhelm’s hand left Simon’s shoulder. He was to stand on his own, as his host went to open a door Simon hadn’t noticed so far. There was a third room behind. Simon came back pushing a wheelchair.

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Re: The New Adventures of Simon: Reunion, Ch. 1 - 3

Postby Jack Roper » Fri May 06, 2016 4:49 pm

Bondwriter, this is a wonderful continuation. Simon must be feeling very helpless about his ordeal by now.
Please post another chapter as soon as possible!

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Due to popular demand, here is chapter 4.

Postby Bondwriter » Sat May 07, 2016 6:21 am

Well, Jack, here you go...

Chapter 4 – Adapted Environment

The chrome tubes shone, the polished leather that made the seat, back and part of the footrests had been well greased and rubbed so it glimmered in the faint light of the electric bulb mixed to the flames of the fire Wilhelm had lit in the hearth. The numerous straps and attachments caught Simon’s eye immediately. Of course, this was to be expected. Yet this was a formidable display, with at least as many straps than in the crate, but wider and thicker ones, with the hefty brass buckles promising an inexorable grip. No hint was given than Wilhelm had lied about having the means to reach his goal. So far, he’d made no mistake and proved how well prepared he was.

It wasn’t as much toil to sit him and strap him down in the wheelchair as when sticking him in the crate. This meant he could perceive even more strongly how much attention Wilhelm was putting into handling his captive.

“This is going to be handy over the first few days you stay here. I told you about training. We’ll start with hard and helpless restraints, so you know what to expect if you’re to be given a little more leeway a few days from now.”

The cuffs could be locked in place, immobilizing the limbs. No joint could twist at any significant angle, which was key to prevent escape. Wilhelm adjusted the straps one by one, fine-tuning the tension so his captive’s body would be staged to his peculiar tastes. Simon ended as a sculpture, with symmetry in the set-up.

“This allows some degree of freedom for me, as I can move around while keeping an eye on you. I can show you around, so you may discover facilities that have been designed for keeping a guest like you.”

The first room was furnished like an ordinary English countryside interior, but Wilhelm pointed the many hooks and points that made it possible to attach things to, the three beams that supported the crossbar on which the ceiling rested. He also pointed to a large wardrobe with a large mirror over its door; Wilhelm took some time to have Simon ‘admire’ himself. The sight was amazing to the young escape artist; the black bands keeping him pinned to the chair enhanced his bare parts.

“Before I show you something that will really amaze you, I’d better make sure you can’t react too violently; I especially wouldn’t want you to make a fuss, or start begging or insulting me. This is why I should get you gagged with something that’s a bit more effective in reminding you how much I value you unable to utter a sound…”

There was now furniture around them that could conceal more fiendish devices for restraining him. Simon saw Wilhelm open such a closet, in which rubber balls on straps hung, along with other gagging contraptions. Simon opened his eyes wide as he saw the rubber thing that his abductor picked up.

He did fight the switch from his scarf gagging to the rubber set-up half-heartedly, calming down when threatened by Wilhelm.

“Quit struggling, I’ll fit you with this muzzle whatever it takes; you know I always get my ways. Good, you seem to understand what’s good for you. Let me first insert the rubber bulb inside, open your jaws, see how the little rubber piece has grooves for your teeth? No matter how much you tighten your jaws, you can’t damage the tube that’s a main feature of this contraption.”

Wilhelm was adjusting the muzzle; its rubber bulb for the mouth was attached to a front panel that encased the lower jaw and face, with straps pulling it taut over Simon’s cheeks and making it difficult for him to stretch his jaw. The rubber clamped over his skin ruthlessly. Wilhelm picking up a hand pump with a tube and a steel nozzle at the end made him fear what was to come next.

He’d seen such a device in stores, as they had sometimes come across vendors of escape artistry goods that had a range of products aimed at a more private and exclusive clientele. He hadn’t been gagged with one, though. As Wilhelm inserted the nozzle inside a small hole in the middle of the front panel, Simon tried assess the size of the bulb inside his mouth. His captor started pumping, and the rubber bladder developed inside his mouth, lining his palate and pushing his tongue down. No speech was possible.

Wilhelm kept on pumping; his jaws stretched as much as the chin straps passing above his head allowed; it wasn’t much, but the pressure kept growing, as Wilhelm was slowly inflating the plug inside his mouth. The bladder now felt like a hard block invading his mouth.

“Mmm…”

“You can’t make much more than a faint hum through your nose Simon.”

The taunting went on after Wilhelm was done pumping, effectively gagging his prisoner. Wilhelm stopped dead in his tracks, as if under panic.

“Listen! Can’t you hear?”

In the silence that fell upon the room, Simon heard far away voices.

“Mmm!?”

“Try all you want,” Wilhelm said, his laughter indicating it had been an act, “I doubt the passer-bys who walk on the path that goes in front of the cottage can hear you. But please knock yourself out if you think you can manage to attract their attention. No one will take you away from me this time.”

Simon knew that no one was impervious to mistakes. Certainly Wilhelm would make one, as he had done many when abducting Simon and his own brother years ago.

“Now that I have you quiet as a church mouse, I can show you a more impressive feature of my facilities.”

Wilhelm opened the door leading to the room where he’d gotten the wheelchair; he was taking it back in, but with a passenger this time. There was a large rack on the right, with what looked like a sewing machine and what appeared to be various construction tools.

“My workshop; as I told you, I’ve learned a couple trades, and being able to apply them in my household is much needed. I’m sure you’ll approve when you enjoy the goods I’ve crafted with you in mind.”

This sounded ominous; Simon wondered what Wilhelm’s obsession with him would yield; how wicked would his restraining devices be?

One wall at the back seemed more recent. A large cage was against the wall on the left of the wide space. That’s where Wilhelm was pushing the wheelchair; as he approached, Simon could see the cage was protecting a pit; there were pulleys and large belts.

“My lift. This was made at the end of the last century. It’s in perfect working condition.”

He opened the grid and they went inside the large lift cage. There was a large wheel of the wall, which Wilhelm started operating.

“No motor on this one, so it uses some muscle. I hope one day you may be the one cranking the wheel so I don’t need to exhaust myself.”

Simon would have traded places without giving it one second of thought. But he was prevented from making the offer. He watched Wilhelm’s lithe body produce the effort; this system worked well, but it wasn’t fast. The cage passed a bed of rock, then eventually reached some cave. No light was on, and the faint glow coming from the lift wasn’t enough to cut into the darkness.

They had arrived when a click indicated they’d reached the bottom of the pit. Wilhelm slid the iron gate opened and took a few steps outside. He pulled a switch on, and the whole world that had been hidden appeared all of a sudden.

“The basement, Simon. You’re bound to spend some time down here in the weeks to come. I’m certain you will appreciate some of the equipments and features. Let me give you a quick tour.”

To Simon, it looked more like a cave than a basement. It was carved in rock, from the walls he could see. It was six or seven feet high in all places, and there were doors in some of the walls. There were racks, pillories, chains, which made it look like one of these medieval dungeons of the Inquisition or some similar setting. Simon had read his share of popular fiction in which villains had sophisticated lairs; he had even been held within the confines of old buildings in cellars that were quite similar.

This was much more; it was a modern setting, in which electric light made it easier to get by. Yet it looked like a museum. Simon had visited a couple wax museums with medieval torture on display; now he had one that had been built for him.

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Re: The New Adventures of Simon: Reunion, Ch. 1 - 4

Postby Jack Roper » Sat May 07, 2016 3:56 pm

Uh oh! Dark days ahead for Simon. I hope Wilhelm doesn't go beyond PG17 in there!

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Re: The New Adventures of Simon: Reunion, Ch. 1 - 4

Postby Veracity » Sun May 08, 2016 12:34 am

This gets better and better.

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Re: The New Adventures of Simon: Reunion, Ch. 1 - 4

Postby Bondwriter » Sun May 08, 2016 6:12 am

Thanks, guys! The following stories will be posted in the PG17 section indeed, but the rest of this one is PG13.

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Re: The New Adventures of Simon: Reunion, Ch. 1 - 4

Postby kankuro10 » Thu May 12, 2016 7:09 am

Awesome. About two years ago I read the adventures of Simon. I loved it so much the plot and characters.

This new story is incredible. I couldn't stop reading the four chapters. I look forward to the new chapters and new adventures of Simon. Thank you for continuing this story.

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Re: The New Adventures of Simon: Reunion, Ch. 1 - 4

Postby Lake Lover » Thu May 12, 2016 3:22 pm

The story is so engrossing that I read the entire postings to date at one setting. Amazingly, I have not seen one syntax or spelling error thus far!

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The New Adventures of Simon: Reunion, Ch. 5

Postby Bondwriter » Fri May 13, 2016 4:23 am

Thanks for these very positive comments. I suspect there are still typos, but I'll thank Nicholas H. again for his proofreading, which helped to provide readable content.
There are three existing stories to follow this one, so the serial isn't over yet.

Chapter 5 – Out of Reach

The visit went on. The big room had two racks, a cross, stone pillars, numerous places where he could be suspended in ropes. Wilhelm detailed the many scenarios that could be enacted in this very specific room.

Once he’d imagined various uses for the trestles, the pummel horse-like piece, the standing cross, the various cages, Wilhelm went for the doors.

The first gave inside a narrow hall, which was barely wide enough to have the wheelchair go through. There was a door on the right. It was opened, and the red glow of a tinted light bulb cast his reddish hue over Wilhelm’s face.

“My photography lab. I can take and process pictures of a kidnap victim without anyone seeing them but me! This makes for more convincing ransom notes. I plan to take many pictures of you, Simon.”

The rubber inflatable gag kept Simon’s protests at a minimum. He had been photographed while bound and gagged by some of his previous kidnappers. The Pennsylvania industrialist had some similar facilities inside his large villa, and a taste for demeaning clothing. Thankfully the police had destroyed all films and prints featuring Simon in various states of dress or undress, and experiencing strict restraints at the hands of the rather sadistic heir to a great steelmaking family.

Wilhelm wheeled his captive out. He showed him what was behind the two other doors. They were cells, with a board to sit or sleep on and a bucket. There were rings of iron stuck into the walls.

“If you misbehave, or if I have to take a long journey, this is where you’ll stay. It’s impossible to be heard from the outside once we’re so deep underground. So I may leave you with food and water for a few days, and content myself with a few chains as restraints. I have a muzzle that makes it possible to drink while making loud noise or articulate speech impossible. I may even let you without a gag when you’re in here. Don’t worry, this won’t happen too much. You look so good with a gag on that I won’t let too many occasions go by. I think I’ll even leave the fine one you’ve got on as I introduce you to the gibbet cage.”

Simon had spotted the contraption hanging from the ceiling at the end of a heavy chain. Simon knew much about medieval torture; for their new numbers, they had used historical elements to make for gripping plots that grabbed the audience and made them side with Simon.

The gibbet cage Wilhelm had in his cellar of doom seemed to be sized just for Simon; it actually was.

“The cage catches your eyes, my sweet one, doesn’t it? Don’t worry, you’ll get to experience its grip soon enough. But we’re not quite done yet with our tour. There is a pillory that you should find most inventive, considering your expertise in restraining apparatuses…”

This wasn’t the only torture device that Wilhelm proudly showed: stocks, stands and bars hanging from the ceiling all could be put to good use for innovative bondage by an aficionado like Wilhelm. None of them could cause real harm, Simon thought, but they would all lock him in the most uncomfortable, and embarrassing positions he could think of, displaying his behind; this seemed one of Wilhelm’s concerns; he’d already enhanced it through clothing. At least, sitting over the wheelchair saved his bum from his captor’s lecherous looks.

This was Wilhelm’s least concern; he was having his big day, with his plan falling out just like he’d envisioned. He had gotten enough feedback from his captive, with his horrified looks and the small gasps the gag made almost imperceptible; it was time for more action and driving the stake all the way down. He pushed Simon’s wheelchair with stops at the Saint Andrew’s cross and the rack that promised hours of tickling fun.

There was a large wardrobe just a few feet away. Wilhelm opened it; in it, there were costumes on coat-hangers. He pulled one: it was a wrestler outfit made of blue silk. In front, Simon the Lousy was embroidered in gold letters. He pulled a grey silk little schoolboy costume. There was a patch over the breast pocket, which said Simon the Lowly.

Some silk pyjamas, the bottom having only one leg, claimed Little Irish Brat. Considering the pinkish hue, this would effectively turn him into a sausage.

“I have a whole trousseau just for you, my sweet little prisoner. And this is only the clothing, there are tons of interesting accessories and devices that you still have find out about. I’m sure you dream of trying one of these outfits, if only to keep you slightly warm…”

Wilhelm picked the little schoolboy costume; he used this more as a pretext to get Simon out of his chair and fondle him; the clothes fit perfectly. His flimsy underwear rubbed against the shorts. This was an excruciating erotic touch to Simon. The red-headed escape artist felt some shame as he got some thrill from being restrained in the wheel chair again.

“You see, Simon, you like me taking care of you.”

He kneaded the package made more obscene by the cut of the peculiar clothes. His touch felt great and Simon wished it would go until its logical end.

“Enough of this,” Wilhelm said as he got back behind the chair and grabbed the handles, “I’m going to give you a last view of the outside, before I get you back in here for the first stretch of your education. This could help you to realize how desperate the situation is for you.”

The climbing back to the ground floor took place in silence, disturbed only slightly by the metallic noises of the lift.

“You’ve seen my comfortable ground floor,” Wilhelm said as he pushed Simon through the kitchen, “and you’ve had a good view of what is in store for you downstairs. I think we may take a little more time to show you what’s outside; I will take you outdoors once your initial training is satisfying to me. There’s lot of fun to be had outdoors, don’t you remember? Being trussed up to trees, or bound standing in a little shed. There are plenty of these around, so it will help us to have some exciting adventures, with you trying to thwart my mastery at bonds and restraints.”

Standing in front of the chair, the blond boy showed the rubber bulb, which he connected to the front of the gag.

“I need to ensure you don’t make a fuss at all.”

The rubber bladder grew in pressure, causing a recriminating grunt from Simon.

“Have you said something? Oh, you can’t with this big rubber envelope inside your mouth. Isn’t it a wonderful gag?”

“Mmmph!”

“Let me strap your head back so it’s neat and tidy.”

Wilhelm loosened the straps and rearranged the long red hair so it was all kept under the thin layer of rubber.

“Now you can’t speak but you look great. Go right ahead, sweet prince, try to call out for help.”

Wilhelm opened the door. It was thick and heavy. Behind it lay a small clearing; there were some trees but it felt more like a garden. It expanded some tens of yards in each direction; wherever the wheelchair allowed him to look, Simon saw woods behind.

Wilhelm pushed him down the small staircase and made his way around the house.

“Come on, who knows, maybe there’s an old lady bundling branches for her chimney?”

“Mmmmblllmmmrrmmm…”

Not only could Simon articulate no sound, this also dampened anything beyond a faint nasal hum.

“What a wonderful device! I can keep you in storage in my hide-out, but I may also have you enjoy the fresh and invigorating spring air. You’ll benefit from this too, far from the city’s poor breathing conditions.”

Simon tried to take in all he could about the lay-out. There were paths leading to the walls, and a larger one that allowed Wilhelm to bring in a vehicle. He also pricked up his ears. Was there life around? A farm a couple hundreds of yards away? A road?

All he could hear was the soft wind rustling in the trees and birds chirping rather loudly; and Wilhelm’s voice, of course.

“I doubt there’s anyone in our immediate vicinity, but with all the trees and leaves, I can’t really tell.”

“MMmmmmmrrmmmmmlllm…”

This would never work. How close would someone need to be to hear his gagged plea?

“Nice try, but I still can’t hear you. You see, Simon, I could keep you trussed up to a tree here and you still would never manage to get anyone to free you. Escape is impossible; get it through your head.”

Simon quieted down; Wilhelm was trying to destroy his willpower. He had to get back in meditation mode, which he’d learned to trigger to endure extended times in tight bondage.

“You give up rather quickly, I see. You don’t seem very eager to grab the opportunities I give you to get out of my claws.”

Puffing up his chest and going for maximum effect, Simon prepared for what was meant to be a loud bellow, but that turned into a faint squeak.

“Gnnnmmmmmmmmmm…”

“If you say so. You’ve tried a bit harder, which I expect from Simon the Pathetic. I don’t think I showed you the Simon the pathetic outfit: it’s just blue silk knickers, to replace your performing costume.”

While Wilhelm blabbered about underwear, they made their way back to the small house. From the outside, it was a charming thatch-roofed cottage; it was adequate camouflage for the large underground floor it sheltered.

TBC in the final chapter: "In to Stay".

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Re: The New Adventures of Simon: Reunion, Ch. 1 - 5

Postby kankuro10 » Fri May 13, 2016 10:54 am

Wow. I like this story more and more. Wilhelm has everything well planned. "Simon the Lousy". If I remember correctly, Wilhelm said that in "Birthday Party story".

Thanks for the news of three existing stories. I'm looking forward to reading them when they are posted.

Veracity

Re: The New Adventures of Simon: Reunion, Ch. 1 - 5

Postby Veracity » Fri May 13, 2016 7:03 pm

How can anyone dare to say that Friday the Thirteenth is bad luck when we are getting a new Simon chapter on this day?

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The New Adventures of Simon: Reunion, Ch. 6

Postby Bondwriter » Sat May 21, 2016 1:24 am

Thanks for the comments; Simon's followers are many, thanks certainly to BC's great art that made him a favourite of Tugs fans. I'll post the coming stories ( A Nasty Prank, The Scarecrow and Riding in the Countryside)in the PG 17 section, so it will be members only.

Chapter 6 – In to Stay

“Since you’ve been fed and cleaned up, I’ll get you downstairs straight away.”

They entered; Wilhelm locked the door behind him. They were in the lift ten seconds later. The machinery whirred peacefully. Wilhelm deflated the gag lightly as the cabin started its way down.

“I couldn’t help noticing how the gibbet cage caught your eye, little Simon. This is actually a good subjugation tool to start with. Without some hairpin or some of your professional tricks, I know this is inescapable. This’ll help me to spend a good night, not worrying that you fly away from me. Now that I have you back, there’s no way I will let you go anywhere without having a say in it.”

“Mmmbbblllmm?”

Simon tried his humblest tone, hoping he could make Wilhelm change his mind. It was to no avail.

“Of course, silly, I’ll let you stay in it long enough so you may find out about all the wonderful features of the gibbet cage.”

“Mmmmph! Grmmmph!”

They’d reached the lower floor. Wilhelm patted the captive’s head; he wouldn’t acknowledge Simon’s attempt at obtaining some mercy. It didn’t work.

“No need to thank me, I have chosen to treat you with lots of respect, my second-rate escape artist. And this involves having adequate equipment to imprison you properly.”

Wilhelm started turning a wheel; a ratcheting sound accompanied the gibbet cage coming down to the floor.

“We’re still at the very beginning of your stay, Simon, so you’ll excuse me if I use rather drastic safety measures to handle you…”

Simon found out this meant putting a leather harness over his torso before removing him from the chair. Once this was done, Wilhelm had his charge stand up, his feet still strapped to the footrests; he brought his arms behind him and locked them to the harness at ankles and elbows. These didn’t touch, but his arms were pulled taut behind him.

Wilhelm freed his feet and had him step down. He wrapped ankles, calves and thighs in leather straps. He picked him up from behind, his strong hands grabbing his under Simon’s armpits.

“Here you go.”

In one swift move, Wilhelm set Simon over the small platform at the bottom of the cage. It was shaped like two feet, and there were thin metal strips to clip that were like sandal straps. His immobility was already ensured.

Simon could feel the bar behind him, running along his spine. It was curvy and adapted to his body.

“It has taken some time to adjust the settings, but having gotten accurate measurements for you, it seems I’ve done well the first time.”

Simon had metal at his sides and behind him; Wilhelm closed down the front straps one by one, all nine of them. They were fixed with hinges to the left side and had a hook to latch on the other. They were curved, of various widths, but all hugged his body tightly, pinning him against the back of the cage.

“Little by little, I tighten. And the more I tighten, the more you belong to the cage. So, little birdy, glad to stay protected from predators by your cage?”

“Mmmmh.”

“Good. Let me go over the metal bands.”

He checked the tension: the head, the chest and legs were all kept closely inside; he tightened a bit the band passing above the knees.

“I did well, I think you’re not going anywhere. And the design is convenient too. I can open them one by one, which means I can feed you or have you relieve yourself without releasing you.”

“Mmmbbllmm?”

“Yes, Simon, we’ll start with a twenty-four hour stay in the gibbet cage.”

“MMMH!”

“This didn’t sound too polite. I guess this means maybe I should gag you better?”

Without waiting for an answer to a question that was purely rhetorical, Wilhelm grabbed the tools required to replace the rubber muzzle.”

“Your undies that I took off when I changed you earlier… This will make for proper stuffing. Though…”

Stopping in his tracks, he turned towards Simon, who caught his devious glance. He stepped in front of his caged prisoner, his underwear in hand.

“It’s just the right size for your mouth! I’ll even make it tastier.”

Making sure his prisoner could see it all, Wilhelm brought his leather shorts down to his knees, revealing seven inches of hard manhood. He carefully wrapped his big penis with the underwear and started wanking.

“You’ll need to get used to my taste, and this is a good start to have you use your tongue to relieve my tool.”

He’d caressed softly at first, then his fist pumping got harder and harder.

“Argh,” Wilhelm gasped as his semen flooded the thin piece of fabric, “Here you go, Simon.”

Simon got a clearer view of the adaptability of the design. The metal strip that wrapped his lower face was unlocked and Wilhelm unlocked the straps holding the rubber muzzle glued to Simon’s face.

He deflated the bulb and pulled it out. Simon savoured the relief. After two seconds, with Wilhelm turning his bag on him, picking up stuff for the next stage in the gagging, Simon tried his luck.

“I’m a prisoner, helmmmmmmph!”

“Oh, Simon, you’re so cute when you try. I’m afraid you’ll have to suck on your undies for a while; such an attempt means the gag won’t come off for at least eight hours.”

After cramming the soiled underwear in his prisoner’s mouth, Wilhelm undertook taping his lower face.

“Then you can think of what’s to come. I’m going to keep you here the time it took me to be reunited with you. I have three years with you as my plaything. There’ll be some training, especially at first, but there are lots of games I want to play with you. You’ll see, I’ll give you other opportunities to try your hand at escaping. There are places to visit, people to meet, new experiences to be had. They will all be suited for a bound and gagged escape artist.”

Wilhelm tied a silk scarf over his lower face before he pulled the metal band over it. It felt tighter than before. Simon was completely trapped and made mute.

“I have no intention to have you catch the flu.”

Wilhelm had picked a large woollen blanket from the wardrobe. He spread it over the cage.

“To keep my little birdie warm. Now, you won’t say I didn’t give you the best conditions to practice. If you manage to get out of the cage, you’ll be rewarded; if not, this will mean I’ll have to train you further. I have no doubt I will manage. It’s been a fun day, Simon, so sleep tight. I’ll be on my way.”

Simon heard the lift’s mechanism start again. Once at the top, he heard Wilhelm exit; he switched the light off.

“You won’t be disturbed, Simon the Lowly, so give it your best shot. I know you’ve been proven to be a poor escape artist over these last few days, but I wouldn’t want you to give up. I can’t stand quitters.”

Simon heard the door slam shut, and the key turning inside the lock. He was in for some major time. Feeling strangely comfortable and warm, he ended up snoozing quickly; his dreams that night were filled with Wilhelm’s face and words, and the sight of bound and gagged boys, which got the young performer to feel good.

End of the episode.
Last edited by Bondwriter on Sun May 22, 2016 10:28 am, edited 1 time in total.

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Re: The New Adventures of Simon: Reunion, Complete

Postby Bondage in Paris » Sun May 22, 2016 8:08 am

"Then the young escape artist was laid at the edge of a blanket; Wilhelm rolled him inside, until he was within three layers of thick wool. :
As an incurable wool fetish, this definitely rings a bell in me.

Thank you.

Veracity

Re: The New Adventures of Simon: Reunion, Complete

Postby Veracity » Sun May 22, 2016 9:26 am

Not gonna lie- the scene with the gibbet cage was just plain hot. I couldn't sleep last night because all I could do was think about it. I can hardly wait for the next installment.

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Re: The New Adventures of Simon: Reunion, Complete

Postby kankuro10 » Sun May 22, 2016 9:55 am

An incredible chapter. It has been very exciting. Thank you for this incredible story. I like the titles of the upcoming stories. I really want to read new adventures of Simon.

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Good news

Postby Bondwriter » Mon May 23, 2016 8:36 am

Thanks a lot for the support, B i P, Veracity and Kankuro. The red-haired escape artist has faithful followers! The sequel is now posted in the PG-17 Fictional section. I posted it all at once, so as not to cause insomnia or any other health issues by splitting it in parts...

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The New Adventures of Simon: Simon and the Wicked Brothers

Postby Bondwriter » Sun Oct 23, 2016 10:09 pm

Hi there. This is actually a prequel to Reunion, and this takes place one year after the Birthday Party story. It is PG 13; there are only six chapters written so far, to satisfy the many Simon fans.

Simon and the Wicked Brothers

1. A Happy Family

Augustus Marcy felt great: after a good night of resful sleep, he enjoyed a sip of his own coffee blend sitting at the large table in the dining room where they had their family meals. His two sons William and Theodore faced each other at his left and right; Augustus took great pride in their conversational talent; he listened to a lively discussion about what they had planned for the day.

Augustus enjoyed being a successful business owner; knowing William and Theodore, who were sixteen and seventeen, would take the business over and perpetuate the thriving security business he had developed made his life even more meaningful.

He cast an admiring look at the two siblings who were having an animated discussion on what the final order of the photo-shoot would be. William looked more like his late mother, who had left this world almost a decade ago to this day. He had her fine features and her mesmerizing grey-blue eyes. Theodore took more after his dad, with a wide and cheerful face. Both boys spent a lot of time on the diamond or on the court, so they looked very healthy.

Augustus now saw them as men. They were about to finish high school; they would study in the local university soon, but he wanted them to stay around so they could also spend time learning about the business.

For the last year or so, Augustus had been glad to see them come over after school and work at the business. They had performed various jobs, from clerical stuff to handling cargo in the warehouse or even helping out over at the assembly line.

They seemed well liked by the staff, and they had had long talks with their dad about the company. They were well-versed in locks, bars and safes, and how to make metal objects. They also were quite curious about the relationships there were inside the plant. They were good at reading people, and they surprised their father by the acuteness of their observations.

William and Theodore had even made suggestions on how to improve manufacturing, identifying poorly sequenced tasks between production and packaging; their father had used their idea and had saved ten minutes of labor over the production of a lock, which was a major improvement.

Augustus had paid attention to what they said from there on; they would certainly go into the business, and he decided testing them further. There was to be an advertising campaign for the new Perma-Lock safes, and they had showed an interest in this. He decided to let them handle the job with the San Francisco agency that managed the campaign.

Augustus had been impressed by the way his sons handled this. They came up with the idea for the campaign: they would hire a celebrity to peddle the company products. They had found an adequate representative for the new brand: they would use Simon, the Escape Artist. Augustus had learned of this young man when his sons had told him about him; they were more knowledgeable in escape artistry than he was.

The advertising agency had been enthusiastic; William and Theodore were put in charge of negotiating with this escape artist for a photo-shoot. They did so enthusiastically and secured the contract within two weeks.

It turned out the circus the escape artist performed in was coming to their town in Northern California as part of the tour, and the generous budget that was allocated for a model convinced him quickly.

“You seem quite perky this morning, boys. I thought you had the whole thing completely planned out?”

“Yes, dad,” William replied, “But this is the first project we’ve been put in charge of completely, and you know how much we would hate to fail. What we’ve got to do isn’t this difficult, but it requires thoughtful execution.”

“William is right, dad, we want this to be perfect. The fate of the Perma-Lock depends on good advertising!”

“All right, boys. Let’s hurry, then, and get to the plant. What time are you supposed to meet the escape artist, already?”

“Eight thirty, so yes, let’s not dawdle.”

Twenty minutes later, at eight fifteen, they entered the plant in Augustus’ Cadillac. There were three buildings: one for the offices, a larger one hosted the factory and there was a warehouse. Augustus parked in his designated spot.The boys rushed out the car; this advertising project seemed to motivate them.

The prospect of meeting Simon, the Escape Artist had the brothers quite wired up, William especially. It wasn’t only meeting him, but the whole plan the handsome teen had designed over the last six months; exchanging with his sibling had helped him to think things through. Under the guise of working for this advertising campaign, he had also worked hard on organizing the side project.

William had followed Simon’s feats and achievements in the papers for almost two years. The first time he had heard of ‘the new Houdini’, it was two years previous. He remembered vividly his emotion when he’d seen an article in a Midwest newspaper, telling of the ordeal Simon had suffered, being kidnapped and ruthlessly bound and gagged by a teen, who’d used his private performance as an opportunity to abduct him.

William had read the story later on, in a dime novel. It had inspired some pulp artist who had described at length the various predicaments Simon had had to suffer. William found the story surprisingly engrossing, and he’d read it over and over as a bedtime story.

There had been more adventures, notably in Chicago, when Simon had been caught in a mobsters’ war; William had also noted all the new tricks and favorable reviews the escape artist gathered show after show and town after town. They described the narratives the tricks used. He liked the story of Simon being the prey of a gang of smugglers, with them locking him in crates only to see him appear free a couple minutes later. He’d use crates that aren’t tricked, though.

When William had read that the circus’ tour was to stop in their town for two weeks, he had thought this was a clear sign fate sent him.

William had liked tying up others long ago. There had been games with neighbors when they’d roped someone to a tree. The first times, this was more for play than anything, but William had made the following bindings tighter and much better, making sure all the ropes were laid out to prevent release by the captive.

It turned out Theodore liked escape artistry challenges. The two brothers had then practiced knots on each other. William grew better and better at restraining his brother, but his sibling reciprocated the favor, and Theodore soon got William into inescapable hogties or ruthless ball-ties.

Theodore had noticed how excited his younger brother was when he tied him up; he’d left him in a hogtie and when he’d freed him, the front of his underwear was all wet. There had been teasing and a hand job the next time, which William had told about when he’d been the one binding the ropes, though he’d not acted on it himself.

Theodore had had a girlfriend for a few months now, and it had taken him away from home and much less willing to indulge in their brotherly games. When William saw the announcement of the circus’ tour, he couldn’t believe it; his imagination went wild. This made the loss of his brother’s attention less painful.

William thought about different scenarios to get acquainted with Simon; when he heard of the need for an advertising campaign at the office, the idea of having Simon model seemed obvious. The artist’s field was in line with the safes and locks his father sold. There had been associations of safe brands with escape artists before, so it would make sense to people in his father’s business.

William lobbied various players, including his father, whom he convinced easily. He shared his actual intent with his brother, and recruited him for some help. Theodore agreed, thinking it was a fun prank to play on an escape artist.

Little by little, the plan fell in place: William would re-enact Simon’s Kansas abduction at the hands of Wilhelm. The first name was a sign: Wilhelm was William in German, so it had to be another sign of the stars that this was the example to follow.

William was really busy with his plan; there were places to find and some logistics involved, but he soon had a rather clear idea of how it could go down. He had to remain discreet; his father would not approve of his scheme.

This was the morning when it should take place. William had played the plot in his head on their way to the plant: he was fully ready for Simon.

At eight-thirty, William and Theodore were outside and the chauffeured car they had booked for Simon entered the courtyard. William stood straight, looking as stern and business-like as he could.

He couldn’t help breaking into a smile as the ginger-haired lad got out from the car, holding a bag in hand, with his costume no doubt. He was dressed with clean cotton clothing; William was a bit disappointed he wasn’t dressed in his customary outfit, but he could see how it could be difficult to walk around wearing just skimpy silk blue briefs.

“Good morning, Simon! Did you have a nice trip?”

William shook his guest’s hand, with his brother next in line for greeting the escape artist.

Simon wasn’t the little boy described in the story. He was a young man who was five feet five or six, and an athletic frame. Broad shoulders, a thin waist and solid legs: he looked fit, even if he was smaller than they were both.

William didn’t want to be caught staring at his prey. They exchanged pleasantries and William offered a tour of the plant.

“This way, we can show you the wares we make here; the photographers should be here any minute, but they still need some time to set their cameras and lights up.”

“Of course, I’d love to see how this all works.”

William and Theodore proved very good guides. They started with the factory, showing all the assembly lines and some of the most impressive cutting tools. The foundry was what amazed their visitor most. Liquid iron flowing down in molds is quite a remarkable sight.

They left the plant and entered the warehouse. The two photographers had arrived.

“Hi, I’m William Marcy, here’s my brother Theodore and this is Simon, the Escape Artist.”

The two men greeted them and there was a short talk about the best locations for the photo-shoot. This had been more or less settled when they had visited three weeks before, but they ran over the schedule once again.

“We’ll let you finish preparing; we’ll show Simon the offices and we’ll be back right after.”

Being thus the center of attention, Simon felt really important: a car had come to the camp to pick him up, he had visited this huge factory and there were professionals involved in taking his picture… He was a star. The money was good too, and considering the slow times around them, the circus didn’t have it too bad. The last two years had seen improvements, and this new job was one of the many Simon had pulled for the circus.

They entered the office building; there was less to visit there, but they walked around both floors until they reached Marcy Senior’s office.

2. A Photo-shoot to remember

“Hey, dad, this is Simon. Simon, meet our father, Augustus Marcy.”

“Pleased to meet you, Sir,” Simon said, shaking the hand of the burly man vigorously.

“We gave Simon a tour of the plant. We saw the camera crew in the warehouse, so we’ll go and get the photo-shoot done.”

“Very good, boys. Well, young man, if my sons showed you the Perma-Lock, you‘ve seen how innovative it is. The electrical alarm system makes it one hundred percent inviolable. It’s the safest safe! I guess you know a thing or two on locks?”

William and Theodore patiently waited for their father to finish his conversation with Simon, whose genuine expertise and talent at conversation made quite the partner for a long talk on locks, bolts and pins. Once the young escape artist had showed he was the one to do the job, at least in their father’s eyes, it was time to take Simon back to the warehouse for the photo-shoot.

“We need to explain to you the ideas we’ve come up with for the adverts for the Perma-Lock, but it’ll be easier to do so on location. We might enact a few of the scenarios we’ve thought about for the campaign. Edgar has picked your luggage, so we may go..”

The hand from the office pushed a cart carrying the trunk Simon had brought with, featuring a variety of clothing and gear. They had sent letters explaining there should be comedy situations with an escape artist, defeated by the products they made. If the equipment they peddled mastered a talented and skilled expert like Simon, it would prove its worth.

The redheaded knot-fighter had gathered some of the costumes he had for this particular endeavor. There had been a few designed and tailor-made for him over the years to accompany the various stories he enacted. Simon for one, and Stilo along with him, had recognized the importance of narratives for their show. Stilo in his prime had been a talented storyteller, which allowed him to endure in the business. Simon had imagined many of the situations.

A number had the young escape artist as a private snoop, dressing up in a cat burglar suit to explore a bad guy’s lair. He got caught, but thankfully he could outperform the expert rope bondage the villains wove him into. Simon liked the costume, which fit him like a glove. It was the satiniest silk and the glossy black enhanced his fine silhouette.

The number had been a hit no doubt because of the genuine joy Simon displayed playing the character, not totally aware of the sensuous richness he exuded in those showy outfits.

“You’re an amazing performer,” William told Simon. “Your show is really amazing.”

The brothers had come to see the show two days previous, and they’d already praised Simon then; the young entertainer didn’t mind the attention and praise. He smiled back and replied to this pleasant young fellow.

“Thanks, I’m lucky to work with a great team.”

They were in sight of the warehouse. It was a large brick building with very high windows. It looked massive, and it offered indeed some space inside.

“We’ve thought of some set-ups using your ideas for funny and impressive pictures. Of course you could be a thief and get beaten by the Perma-Lock,” Theodore said

“I could be. But then, unless I’m a thief who always escapes, why is the Perma-Lock special?”

“You’ve got it, Simon. One possibility would be to have you as a thief. There would be small pictures on top of the page depicting you robbing safes without ever encountering any resistance. Then you try to break the Perma-Lock and then you end up in it! It baffled you so much that you wasted time and got caught, and the owner has you stuck, bound and gagged inside his safe. William will play the owner. That’s eight photos for this story. We have more for later on, of course. We’re getting there, we’ll decide what to start with next.”

They entered through a large double door; there was a hall and another set of doors that opened over the warehouse.

It was over a hundred feet in breadth and there were rows of safes over half of the surface. There were also boxes stacked up, containing the stainless steel hardware the company produced too. It came from the firm’s plants up a couple hundred miles north, William told Simon.

They reached the cleared up space in the far right corner. Two men were busy setting up lights for one and installing a camera on a tripod for the other.

“Meet Horace and Moe, Simon. They’re the photographers who’ll help us in getting great results for the advert.”

They shook hands and greeted each other. The young people seemed particularly eager to get started.

“Let me show you what I can dress up like to play a burglar,” Simon said, opening the trunk. The two brothers were curious of what was in it. William spotted the chains, the folded underwear, the scarves… He’d set aside a good amount of gear himself, but using Simon’s own gear to abduct him felt even more arousing. The artist picked up a large black body suit. William had pictures of Simon wearing this outfit in his Simon scrapbook.

There were screens set up just so the model could change free of unwanted looks. Simon removed his jacket, shirt and pants and stepped inside the body suit. There was a zipper up the back, which he managed to pull up himself without any difficulty.

There was a mirror to help dressing up; Simon adjusted the material slowly. It was tailor-made after all, and it was worth it taking a little time making sure there were neither creases nor folds. Simon was a bit vain and he took long glances at himself, admiring the way his body was growing and how it translated in stretching the glove-like garment. He put on the eye mask to get in character fully. He stepped out of the intimacy of the screens. William was waiting for him.

The young host knew enough to remain quiet. He’d have liked to scream with glee at the sight of the young man wrapped up in black silk, which showed all his pleasant features, his thin frame and luscious curves enhanced by the shimmering fabric. This would make the non-tie-up photo-shoot all the more pleasant.

“You definitely look the part. You’re in perfect shape so you should be a convincing burglar, one that should be feared by law-abiding citizens.”

For the first two hours Simon had to pose in front of open safes, looking at the camera with a grin. His costume made for a great prop, as it caught the light well and would give an eerie look on the photographs.

The photo-shoot went fine. Edgar had another man helping him bring the safes. They came from the showroom and were demo versions, so they weren’t as heavy as the real ones. This made it possible to go rather fast. Simon stood in the positions William requested, with the two photographers actually following the young man’s lead.

Horace and Moe were used to weird ideas from clients, but the kid escape artist beat it all. A good photoshoot had scantily clad women advertising soap, as they’d done the week before. They’d play along and take their big check, they just hoped those rich kids wouldn’t drag the session for too long.

William stood on the side and made a very conscious effort not to show his arousal at the display in front of him while not losing one second of the show.

Simon was having some fun posing; he did it with heart, anyway; it wasn’t this difficult and he was paid a good deal of money, enough for him to be very patient and do all he was asked to.

It was getting late in the morning and about time for lunch. The photographer and his assistant left, along with Theo who went to pick up sandwiches for his brother and Simon, who could talk about the sequels.

“We’ve got some great shots in the can, Simon. Thanks a ton. Do you have any idea of how to best tie you up for the camera?”

“With this outfit, white rope is a must, of course. Then, what would be best is not only to tie-up the burglar but store him away in the safe. Let me get some rope.”

The helpful entertainer picked six long coils of white cotton rope from his trunk. He set them carefully over a small table meant to store props.

“Should I make you a demonstration by binding your arms behind your back, William?”

“I know how to tie a knot, and I think I know how it works, thank you. Of course if you could show me how to improve my own talent at tying knots, I’m willing to learn.”

William turned his back to Simon, crossing his wrists submissively behind his back. Simon had met his fair share of willing masochists, who’d offered him to keep them captive. He didn’t mind indulging them in their little fancy. He’d even experimented with a trick in which a volunteer from the audience had to be cuffed to a pole, and Simon was then locked in a glass cage. A curtain fell, and Simon was next behind the captive, ready to unlock the cuffs. The volunteers had been quite enthusiastic about the number, and one had even offered Simon to become his assistant.

Simon used a single piece of rope that imprisoned his wrists, elbows, arms and shoulders. Simon left the final knot within reach, though some stretching was required.

William felt the end of the rope against his back and sensed there was a flaw. He exploited it fully: he beamed proudly when he got a hold of the knot and picked it untied with his fingertips.

“This was nice of you to give me a way out,” William conceded.

His brother was back with the picnic basket. The three boys ate sandwiches and drank some lemonade, standing on the side. The brothers had Simon talk about his trade. He told them anecdotes regarding his artistic life.

“I love hearing escape artist stories straight from the mouth of one; I’ve read in the newspapers you’ve been actually abducted many times. What did it feel like? Were you scared?”

This was a part of his biography Simon always commented on in character: his entertainment persona was this of a tough, rugged escape artist. To Simon the Escape Artist, he could handle a couple days of kidnapping because of the training and discipline circus life demanded.

“I never was really afraid. Most of the time I managed to escape, even though most of the time my kidnappers caught me before I finally broke out of their hold. This is what I work for everyday: I want to master my feelings when restrained. This way I can escape for the audience’s delight. The times I was held a real captive, I knew it could take longer to get an opening to break free, but I always trusted my skills and the endurance the training brought in me. I don’t get scared this easy!”

His well-rehearsed line impressed William, who had yet another challenge in front of him. He would abduct Simon but also break his will. These most wicked thoughts whirled in his mind as they swallowed the final bites of their cold meal.

kankuro10
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Re: The New Adventures of Simon: Simon and the Wicked Brothers, ch. 1 & 2

Postby kankuro10 » Mon Oct 24, 2016 3:17 am

Awesome. Thank you for this new story. Each chapter has been very exciting. I love the adventures of Simon. And I'm interested in those moments that had the Escape Artist. I hope to read new chapters and new adventures.

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Re: The New Adventures of Simon: Simon and the Wicked Brothers, ch. 1 & 2

Postby xtc » Mon Oct 24, 2016 4:57 am

I can't help wondering whether BC would do some of his drawings for the new stories.
Boxer shorts are cool,
but little speedos rule!

More by the same author: viewtopic.php?f=5&t=22729

Bondwriter
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Re: The New Adventures of Simon: Simon and the Wicked Brothers, ch. 1 & 2

Postby Bondwriter » Tue Oct 25, 2016 12:33 am

I've kept him informed of the new stories; BC still draws boys in distress, but his output wouldn't match the guidelines of this board.

Thanks for the reply.

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Re: The New Adventures of Simon: Simon and the Wicked Brothers, ch. 1 & 2

Postby WAMGuy » Tue Oct 25, 2016 8:48 am

Fantastic as always! Really looking forward to reading more!

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Simon and the Wicked Brothers, Chapter 3

Postby Bondwriter » Sat Oct 29, 2016 10:40 pm

Thanks a lot, WAMguy. Here is the next chapter.

3. The Challenge

The technical crew was back. Everybody prepared for the next shots. William asked to shoot at various points in the binding to choose from different set-ups for the final set.

“I’ll start with your arms just like you did mine, Simon,” William explained.

The boy performed his task leisurely, tightening and tugging on the ropes every now and then to ensure a perfect symmetry. The fingers running along the ropes informed Simon of his binder’s experience. He checked all the right things, pulled where needed to get optimum tension. He also didn’t leave the knot within reach of Simon’s fingers.

“Done! Let’s get a picture of my handiwork before you try and escape.”

There were three photographs taken, with Simon seen from the front, the back and the side.

William gave Simon the go for an escape attempt. It took him three minutes, but with a lot of twisting the rope going over his right shoulder eventually slipped, loosening the whole network and allowing him to get out of the whole set-up in less than half a minute.

“Thank you,” Simon said, bowing for the audience. They shot a photograph of the freed burglar, smiling and showing his teeth, holding the coiled ropes he had gotten rid of. “You want to try again?” he asked William; his guest liked tying knots, he would have him indulge.

“Are you challenging me? I’ll use two coils this time, then, and see if you can free yourself with your legs bound.”

The atmosphere on set was cheerful, with everyone, including Simon, supportive of the boy’s attempt at restraining the escape expert. William refused any help, and he worked faster the second time around.

Simon relished his tight blue undies and their thin wire frame; they kept his genitals in check when wearing overly tight things around his groin. He couldn’t appear on stage as a satyr with a priapic issue. He was to play an innocent boy most of the time. But the hands held him and wove him into what felt a tighter net of ropes this time and gave birth to feelings that weren’t innocent at all.

The ordeal lasted fifteen minutes. Simon started feeling his bonds, going over the various knots and loops in sequence. There was a weakness at the ankles, and possibly some slack could be gained at the elbows. This was a masterful tie-up nonetheless.

There were six shots taken of the final result, and William and Theodore featured on two of them.

It took Simon over thirty minutes to get out of the ropes; he denied any help offered, his pride requesting he’d manage on his own in front of strangers. He felt the crew growing impatient as the afternoon was getting late and the shot inside the safe was yet to be taken.

William had taken in the photographer’s impatience; he worked fast, with Simon giving advice on how to best get a ball-tie. William couldn’t help but admire the relevance of Simon’s knowledge, which got him to get him in a really tight ball, with his knees against his chin and the balls of his feet tucked against his bum.

Simon was flexible and had apparently practiced the position. His legs folded easily; William’s eyes lingered on the shiny black butt; they were round and firm. The boy remained casual about the binding he’d put the escape artist in.

“This feels a bit better, William. Should we proceed with the shooting?”

There were pictures taken of Simon, some with William in the frame, posing as the hunter who’d brought back a large piece of game from his safari.

They then slid the balled-up body inside the safe, which they closed as a demonstration. It took time to get the proper amount of aperture of the door for the photo; Horace and Moe were experienced product photographers, and they could handle the camera and lenses to get great angles.

Getting everything right, from the light to the pose took time, and it was well into the afternoon when they were done. The crew had to leave at five, so they put their things away.

“We’ll continue tomorrow,” William whispered into Simon’s ear, kneeling to free from the strenuous ball-tie. “Let’s take a break; this has been a long photo-shoot.”

That’s when he had a surprise. Simon shed the ropes like a snake shed his skin, and he stood and bowed in his enticing burglar suit.

Compared to his usual entertainment activities, this wasn’t very difficult. It was long and boring all right; Simon still enjoyed hanging out with boys his age from a wealthy background; they flattered his ego with the interest they showed for his craft. He wasn’t ashamed of the sleight of hand he’d just shown, proving how good he was at escaping ropes.

While the crew put the equipment away, the two brothers took Simon to a stall nearby where a real Perma-Lock safe sat. It was heavy, and Simon was very keen on all the technical details. He had acquired knowledge of locks and locking mechanisms, and the creativity of engineers never ceased to amaze him.

The brothers were enthusiastic about the features the safes offered, a real landmark of modern technology. William winked at his brother. It was time to make their move, with Horace and Moe gone and Simon just ripe for another challenge.

“This technology is fascinating, Simon, but I’m still in awe with human ingenuity. I have lots of admiration for your talent. Isn’t there a way we could tie ropes that would keep you prisoner?”

The ginger artist looked straight into his patron’s eyes.

“There are ways, though over the years I’ve mastered a few tricks to defeat most. You’d have to explore on your own, I won’t give you any secrets away.”

“Would you be game for some lessons this evening? We thought of a long walk throughout the woods around the estate, but having you as a teacher in knots and escape artistry beats it by a long end.”

Simon was flattered.

“Of course, we may have another try. You seem to be knowledgeable, but you could relax a bit and take a little more time tightening every single length. That’s usually the cue to a successful tie-up: not leaving a single weak link.”

Theodore sounded interested too. So far, he’d left his younger brother handle most of the photo-shoot; he wanted to be part of the action too.

“I wouldn’t mind giving it a hand too. William’s been stuck in my ropes before.”

His younger brother cast an annoyed look.

“Yes, Theo, but you didn’t fare any better did you?”

It was true that their competitive edge had taught them to tie a nasty knot when exacting revenge upon their brother. Both had stayed trussed up and stuck while the other taunted him, usually until the moment when the predicament went from uncomfortable to unpleasant.

“Anyway,” William smiled, putting an end to the brotherly feud, “I’m all for having you judge which of us is the best at rope binding, Simon.”

They headed back to the main room. William went to the back of the room. He brought back a large board on wheels, with a chrome-steel pole screwed in its middle.

“What about a pole tie, Simon? Do you think I can do a good enough job that you can’t slide out of my ropes?”

“You’re setting the bar high, Will,” his brother approved, “I guess this’ll be my challenge too. And I’ve gotten you unable to escape from pole ties, our young amateur can’t be much more difficult to handle.”

“I’ll let you know who’s the best, not to worry,” Simon smiled. “I’ll take it William will be first at trying his hand.”

“Indeed. It’s a classic, but I think I’ve understood a thing or two about the skeleton that make me a worthy opponent in a battle of ropes.”

The frank and open manners of the boys appealed to Simon. They were enthusiastic with their knowledge, with sharp minds in contact with engineers and makers; they also were handsome. He agreed to the challenge.

“Should I change in something else?”

William thought for a second.

“You don’t need to, unless it isn’t comfortable.”

The suit was snug but it didn’t feel tight at all. William seemed also impatient to try his luck, standing next to the pole with rope in hand.

This wasn’t exactly a break for Simon; he was paid good money for his trade, so it would be in poor taste to refuse the wealthy industrialist’s sons a little time indulging in their hobby with an actual specialist.

Simon stepped onto the platform with the steel pole and gracefully stood with his back against it. William had made room, staying just behind the escape artist preparing for his number.

William threaded the ropes around the pole before he used them to restrain Simon’s limbs. He wasn’t lying about his knowledge of anatomy, and the way he wrapped the ropes meant he knew how motion worked.

Simon was used to letting others work their ropes around him; this latest fan was displaying perfect gestures, and he laid rope after rope in a smart sequence, further immobilizing his limbs. This was good work. William was a bit nervous; he had jerky moves, but he also compensated by checking every single length he added to the web imprisoning his captive.

This reminded Simon of past events, when he’d ended up bound to trees or rakes. By an enthusiastic fan. Called Wilhelm.

It went all in a flash and Simon didn’t think more of it. He had to explain William how his chest harness left space for sliding his shoulders out. The boy took his time and redid the job carefully, taking in the advice on cinching the first turn, which made any sliding out of the rope network all the more difficult.

William went over his whole work; his brother helped him out and went to give his opinion on the thoroughness of the job.

“It seems to hold, Will. This is Simon we’re talking about, though. I’m quite sure you didn’t expect him to get out of your ball-tie? Your look when he stood at the end and bowed was a memorable sight.”

“I’ll confess I felt a bit put down. Our young entertainer is very skilled, and I doubt mere ropes may allow us to keep him our captive.”

Simon felt elated; they thought they couldn’t hold him in ropes. Their job was almost complete, and he had to admit there weren’t any flaws. He’d have to use the slack around the wrists to gain an edge, but it wouldn’t take more than fifteen minutes to get out of William’s bonds.

Theodore had some other stuff he was fiddling with around his forearms. It felt like leather and it tightened. These were cuffs.

“Isn’t it a rope-only, challenge?” Simon asked.

“It’s just for the looks, Simon, let us do our job. We want this pole-tie to be just like the one that inspires us.”

“This should bring back some memories to Simon, Will, it’s just like in the shed in the Birthday story.”

“Yes, just like when Wilhelm trussed you up to the rake.”

This was a confirmation to Simon, who remained speechless, thinking of these times two years previous when he’d been under the tight and relentless control of his teen abductor. He looked at William.

“What is he talking about? Is it a joke?”

By now, he could feel the strictness of the bonds, and they knew of the small enhancements that would turn the position from difficult to escape to impossible to evade.

“Theo likes to scare people, doesn’t he?”

This wasn’t part of the plan. Theodore regained his senses and said he was just kidding. They kept tightening the ropes and wrapping leather stuff they buckled. Then Simon felt ropes threaded through D-rings in the leather cuffs. This wasn’t how it should be done, and he needed to call the attempt off.

TBC

kankuro10
TUGs Member
Posts: 25
Joined: Sun Apr 27, 2014 9:06 am
Age: 20

Re: The New Adventures of Simon: Simon and the Wicked Brothers, ch. 3, October 30th

Postby kankuro10 » Sun Oct 30, 2016 2:48 am

Wow. Amazing. The chapter has been very detailed. The brothers are interesting characters. And I like to read more about the thoughts of Simon.

Bondwriter
Kidnapper
Posts: 210
Joined: Sat May 23, 2015 6:45 am
Age: 44

Simon and the Wicked Brothers, Chapter 4

Postby Bondwriter » Sat Nov 05, 2016 10:46 pm

Thanks for you comment, Kankuro. Here is the next chapter.

4. Party Gone Awry

“Hey, this is cheating, we said rope-onlMMMpgrrbbllmmm…”

William clamped his wide hand over Simon’s mouth.

“Did we say that? I don’t remember. I think I’ve gotten enough advice from you, now is a time to have you perfectly silent while we have some fun with you.”

“Mmmrmmph? Mggrmmbbllm?”

Simon turned to the other sibling, hoping in vain he would get assistance.

“There are lots of things we’d like to see a circus artist like you do while kept tamed and restrained. In your dainty little costumes, it’ll be even better. I’ll get what we need to keep our guest quiet, Will.”

Theodore grabbed some scarves or hankies and leather and rubber straps from a case. He rolled a thin silk scarf into a small sausage and brought it close to Simon’s handgagged face for inspection. It wasn’t too big, but Theodore smirked and wrapped it inside another one, making the sausage into a thick roll.

They had worked together before; William removed his hand and grabbed Simon’s chin at the same time, opening his mouth wide with a very strong hold. The ball of slippery material slid in, filling every nook and cranny of Simon’s mouth.

Our young hero saw his rescue coming: the photographers walked towards their group. He tried to spit the ball of material out but

“Hey, you boys are still trying your hand with the escape artist? .”

Horace and Moe startled the brothers. William spotted the case they’d forgotten behind; he’d planned on having people walk on them like this; he maybe even unconsciously wished for such a situation. He was prepared. His hand covered Simon’s mouth slowly; he didn’t rush as if he were genuinely playing a tie-up game with their new friend.

“Yes, Horace. He’s been good at it. But I still think I can bind him so he’s trapped. Simon has even offered to be gagged and blindfolded so he’d get a slight handicap. Didn’t you, Simon?”

The escape artist tried to shake his head in denial; his move would have been spotted, had it not been the moment when they turned around to pick the crate up. William reinforced his grap over our hero’s head and his hands made the helpless Simon nod.

“One last try and then his chauffeur comes and picks him up. We’ll see him to the gate, don’t worry.”

“MMMmmmmph!”

“He sure sounds feisty!”

“This is all part of his act. He’s a great performer.”

Horace and Moe were in a hurry to leave and they didn’t dawdle. They left, laughing politely at the entertainment their wealthy clients enjoyed. The door slammed shut behind them, leaving Simon at the hands of the two brothers.

“Poor little Simon, you just missed an opportunity of escaping. Now, for all they know, Horace and Moe will swear to have seen you just before you left. You’re all ours, and we sure won’t let you escape, trust us.”

The misled artist shook his head and grumbled angrily, but to no end; William’s hands kept his mouth and jaw in a tight vice, making any sound an indistinct grunt. Theodore went to Simon’s trunk.

“His ball! This will make sure he can’t spit the hankies out. Isn’t it what Wilhelm did, Simon?”

The two brothers worked together to stuff the small rubber ball inside Simon’s mouth, trapping the heavy silk wadding inside.

“Grrmpph!!”

“If you say so,” William grinned, “but don’t worry, we may get you even quieter.”

He crouched and picked up the scarves his brother had gathered. He used three scarves as additional over the mouth layers – the third an over the nose one Simon relished he thin fabric keeping his jaws compact, yet it also meant further subjugation.

“Let me tighten these well. So they block your jaws and make them compact. Yes, clamped over the thick stuffing. Not a word from out little gagged boy then?”

“MMMmmmmm…”

“He’s a tough one, Will. Let’s add the leather harness.”

“Great idea, hand it to me, please.”

This was a simple set-up, with two wide, supple and strong leather belts sewn to each other. They installed them over the gag; William buckled the first one over Simon’s neck, and soon did the same with the one closing off at the top of his skull. This did add to the tension and sure would make it totally impossible to get rid of the mass inside his mouth, which was now getting soggy as the gag had Simon drool.

The added layers prevented any leak and Simon was masterfully gagged.

“Now we’ve taken care of the unwanted remarks from our young guest, let’s finish our job binding him, and I’d say chaining him and locking him to this pole. You’re too good for us, Simon, even Horace said so. You’ll understand that to abduct you, we have to get some little advantage?”

The brothers got busy setting more cuffs over Simon’s limbs, which they used to link and lock him to the pole. One by one, the iron mechanisms snapped shut; Simon could only handle padlocks he had the key to, or a hairpin within reach if it was simple enough.

“All done, aren’t we, Theo? This is a real challenge for you, Simon. If you can’t prove us your worth in thirty minutes, I’m afraid this will mean you lost and we owe you for all the kidnapping fun we want to have.”

“Mmmrbbllmm?”

Simon remained puzzled. What kind of a joke was this? He stretched, feeling how badly he was trapped with the added restraints. Half an hour? He could do it, if the brothers had messed something up; they’d worked fast, so they certainly had.

The boys pushed Simon’s platform straight in front of two large club armchairs they sat in. They were five feet away from the struggling escape artist. They commented on his efforts, with Theodore rooting for the redhead, so his brother would lose the wager. Simon kept on fighting, but there were cuffs and locks surrounding all his joints, with very little slack to pull on.

“He’s going to manage, William, this is Simon after all. Look how much he writhes?”

“He may twist around all he wants; it doesn’t seem he’s going anywhere. I’m going to win. You may give me a forfeit if he does.”

“I’ll let you handle him if he frees himself,” Theodore replied, not offering to take a forfeit as Simon seems genuinely stuck.

One thing he became aware of, with his audience so close, was the direct sight they had over his sex. He hadn’t put any of the small shells that he used to perform and keep his modesty; all the twisting and writhing, and the masterful gag had him aroused and he was embarrassed that these young men could see it.

“He’s writhing all he can, and can you hear how he coos, Theo? This is heaven for Simon, being abducted by his fans. He’s picked a line of work in which it may happen often. His costume is an invite for abductors like us.”

Simon had been abducted by his fans many times indeed; all of them hadn’t seen him react with such an enthusiastic boner.

The half-hour went by quickly, but Simon never managed to gain an advantage on his bonds, and they still held him as fast when William called time.

“This hasn’t been too effective, Simon. You’re no match for my bonds, apparently. Now, I like games, and I think that when someone loses, there needs to be a wager.”

They stood and pushed the platform; the sophisticated roller-bearings made for a smooth motion and they soon got to the back of the warehouse. Theodore opened a small door; they got in a courtyard; to their right there was a small booth. The older brother opened the door and they pushed Simon and his platform in the small space. He removed his blindfold.

The thin tin walls had warmed up throughout this fine weather spring day, and the heat within the confined space was way above 100°.

“You’ve earned yourself an extra stay in the sun booth. I mean, it used to be a place for a security guard, but we quit using it because with the least sun ray, the guard melted almost immediately. They haven’t taken it to the scrapyard yet…”

William and Theodore exited, closing the door behind them, and locking it from the sound Simon heard.

“It’s late afternoon, so it shouldn’t be too bad. We’ll let you sweat for a while, but we’ll be back, and if you haven’t managed to escape by then, we’ll have even more trials and ordeals for you. You’ve been kidnapped, Simon, and we’re going to be very strict captors.”

Simon heard their steps receding. He was left in the sultry space of the metal shed. Sweat ran down his suit. The escape artist applied his trade, breathed slowly and deeply and felt for a way out. The sweat ended up loosening the restraints; the leather stretched when soaked and Simon could feel how to adapt and succeed at escaping, if only to feel fresher air. The sun still shone on his cage, but Simon had timed at ten minutes the time to slip his arms out of the restraints.

He flexed his muscles and twisted until eventually he felt some yield and his elbow slid down. His arms were close together, but another ten minutes and he would be free.

He’d assessed the time required properly, but so had William. Simon heard steps coming when he managed to get his right arm out of its restraints.

The door opened on William, who spotted the moving wrist straight away. Fresh air entered, but also the threat of being punished or to see some other unpleasant development.

“You’ve done better this time, Simon. I’m glad to see you try and actually succeed.”

William grabbed his wrists and cuffed it anew.

“Let’s take you outside, it’s a bit stuffy in here.”

The courtyard was empty. William acted confidently and went over his captive’s restraints, buckling all the straps one notch tighter. Simon was thankful for his suit, which protected his skin from the bite a little.

“This is more a matter of principle than a real need, but I’m a bit miffed you managed to free your arm. This means you’re a worthy competitor. We’ll have to be careful. Don’t worry, we’ll offer you plenty of variety, and quite soon, actually.”

William stepped behind the platform and pushed. He opened the door and had a peek.

“The coast is clear, and Theodore is handling one particular detail of our plan.”

Simon saw the large courtyard. There was noise from motors and even voices, but he couldn’t see anyone. He tried to make as much noise as he could, which got William to snigger.

“My poor Simon! You really don’t give up, do you? I know this place well, including where and when there might be people. I’m also afraid this gag really works well, wouldn’t you say so?”

They turned the corner of the building. A large sedan was there, and William stooped the platform next to it. He opened the rear door; the seat was covered with straps and all sorts of equipment.

“We’ll take you for a ride, Simon, and I’m going to have you as my passenger, but I’ll have to be cautious to get you in the car.”

TBC

kankuro10
TUGs Member
Posts: 25
Joined: Sun Apr 27, 2014 9:06 am
Age: 20

Re: The New Adventures of Simon: Simon and the Wicked Brothers, ch. 4, November 6th

Postby kankuro10 » Sun Nov 06, 2016 4:02 am

Yes. It has become more exciting. I like the details of the scenes. It has been interesting thoughts of Simon. The chapter ends with intrigue. Good.

I really like the adventures of Simon.


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