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.ReunionA Simon and Wilhelm adventure
By BondwriterChapter 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.
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…”
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.