U. N. Known Writer

Bound for Freedom

Owen Ashton had always been fascinated by people being tied up. Especially when that person was himself. Most of his earliest memories were off watching old adventure stories on TV and reading comic books. None of which would seem to be particularly unusual expect that Owen always rooted out that showed the young hero tied up at some point. In fact, if the hero didn't get tied up, at some point, then Owen would feel cheated.

By the time Owen reached the grand old age of nine he hit upon the idea of getting his mother to tie him up and, he couldn't believe it when she actually agreed to do it. The only problem was, her idea of tying him up, and his ideas about being tied up, didn't amount to the same thing. However Mrs. Ashton didn't take too kindly to being told that just having a rope wrapped around her sons shoulders didn't count as tying him up. And that was the end of that. Thankfully, Owen's cousin had a much better idea of what to do.

***

Tom Ashton, came over to spend time with his little cousin mainly because that's what he was told to do, and he always found it particularly annoying to be pushed off with Owen, just because they were close to the same age. As far as he was concerned they weren't. Tom was twelve after all, nearly a teenager, and Owen had only just had his tenth birthday. The fact was Owen was nearer in age to Tom's little brother Sam, but for some reason, Sam got to stay with the adults while he and Owen were banished to the 'games' room, where all Owen wanted to do was watch his dumb old TV shows.

"How can you watch this rubbish?" Tom asked for about the twentieth time.

"I like it." Pouted Owen, never moving his eyes from the screen where the black and white hero was about to be captured by the baddies, just like he always was, only to escape, moments before all was lost.

"I've got a better idea of what we can do?" Tom's voice dropped to a whisper, something he figured would be bound to get the other boy's attention. And he figured right.

"Really?" What?" Owen asked.

"How about," whispered Tom, leaning in close, "How about I kidnap you, and make you my prisoner, like they do on your TV show?"

"Really!" Owen spun around standing, "Would you?"

"Sure, no problem. So do you want to?"

"Yeah, I… Mmmmppphh!"

Owen's words were cut off as Tom pushed him back down on the sofa, and producing a large roll of tape from behind his back, proceed to place a piece over the younger boy's mouth. Then, while Owen was still getting used to that, he pulled the youngster's hands behind his back, and taped them in place, quickly followed by his ankles.

"Now, I'm going to take you to my hide out." Tom whispered, and promptly picked up his younger cousin and half carried, half dragged him out of the room and into the utility room beyond it, where Owen was laid on the flood next to the washing machine, boiler, and various other bits of house hold machinery, all of which appeared to be running, and throwing out large amounts of heat. Something that wasn't lost on Tom.

"It's too hot out here, to leave you like this so I'm going to take your clothes off, okay."

Owen said, "Mmmmppphh!" into the tape over his mouth which Tom, quite rightly as it happened, took to be his okay to continue.

Peeling the tape from Owen's wrists, Tom was surprised at just how easily it came off, and for the first time he wondered why Owen hadn't tried to escape on his own. Not that he had long to wonder about it as, before long he was too busy, pulling the younger boy's shirt up over his head and then, re-fastening his hands together. However, he didn't use tape this time, but a shoe lace that, happened to be hanging on the end of a shoe rack nearby. The twelve year old, obeying his scoutmaster's instructions to clinch the lace tight in the centre, so it formed into a sort of handcuff.

Thankfully, Owen hadn't put on his jeans that morning, so it was a simple matter for Tom to just tug down the elastic waist-ed track suit trousers, and having untapped Owen's ankles, take them away. Then Tom paused for a moment wondering if he should go any further, but deciding not to just in case his cousin squealed on him to their parents. So leaving Owen in nothing but his boxer shorts and socks, Tom used the other shoe lace to bind the boy's ankles back together again.

Finally Tom took the tape from Owen's mouth and asked him to open and close his mouth a few times. Owen assumed this was to make sure his jaw still worked but, when he did it for a third time he discovered the real reason, as a sock was pushed between his lips. It wasn't a very big sock but it did stop him from even making the small amount of noise he'd been able to before. A second, larger, longer sock was then tied around his mouth to keep the other sock in place.

"Okay, now I've caught you." Tom said, standing to examine his work, "I'm going to go and see what I can get for you."

Suddenly Owen found himself all alone and tied up, for the first time, but far from being frightened he was actually excited, as he squirmed about on the roughly carpeted floor. In fact he was having so much fun, that when he heard Tom coming back, around ten minutes later he was actually disappointed.

"No one will give me anything for you!" the older boy announced, "So now I'm going to have to torture you until they do."

This torture turned out to be less like the terrible things that were never shown, but always hinted at, on Owen's TV shows, and more like the sort of thing he was used to doing with his family members, as it consisted of little more than his being tickled. Albeit, tickled a lot.

Tom started off, at the most obviously place, Owen's feet, until he became frustrated that he'd made one fatal mistake, in leaving his socks on. Now, with the laces tied around his ankles, he couldn't get them off, so instead, he was forced to look for other places to tickle him. However, with his arms bound behind his back, Tom soon found he couldn't get to Owen's armpits either, which only left his sides, so Tom duly attacked them with everything he had.

Within seconds Owen was a mess of giggles, and moving about so much that Tom could barely keep up with him, and in the end had to settle for sitting on him, which, had the counterbalance of making the tickling even more difficult so, Tom gave that up and moved onto step two.

Reaching for the two most obvious things he could do given where he was, Tom put his hands down flat on Owen's chest and pinched to twin points of flesh he found there. Owen's nipples. At once, the younger boy attempted to arch his back, making Tom loose his grip and have to start all over again.

This all lasted for less than five minutes but when, at last Tom gave up, what he was doing, he became aware of something moving beneath him and, quickly got off his cousin, only to be surprised by what he found. There, right in the centre of the smaller boy's boxer shorts was something that could only have been described as an erection. It wasn't a very big erection, of course, as Owen was still only ten, but that's what it was, pushing up the thin cloth of the boxers, to form a little tent post that wiggled and wobbled as the youngster, shivered on the floor.

Unfortunately for Owen, this marked the end of his first adventure with being tied up, as something about seeing his little cousin with an erection, disturbed Tom so much that he didn't nothing other than, untie him and give his clothes back, refusing to talk about it for several years.

***

A year or so later and Owen was once more out with his cousin, only this time it was Sam rather than Tom who went with him to the local swimming pool and it was Sam who noticed the faint red lines around his ankles. "What did that then?" the ten year old had asked.

"Oh I was tied up, that's all!" shrugged Owen, seeing no point in lying about it.

"Oh who did that to you, and who let you go."

"No one!" Owen said, honestly before quickly glossing over the first part by expanding the second, "I can get out of anything!"

"Yeah right!" laughed Sam, as he ran out into the pool area.

The two boys enjoyed their swim, or what passed for swimming at a pool that had more slides than it actually did water, and it wasn't until they were on the way back home again that Owen bought the subject up again, having had an idea about getting Sam to tie him up, and not being too subtle about putting it forward. "I can get out of any tie up!" he said, "Anybody's tie up. ANYBODY!"

"Really!" was all Sam said, so, eventually, Owen, just came right out and said it.

"In fact I'll even go so far as to let you tie me up, so I can show you I can get out of anything. How about that then?"

"Yeah right," the smaller boy laughed, "I bet I could tie you up so tight that you couldn't get loose."

Owen leapt at the chance: "Bet you couldn't."

"Bet I could. But you'd have to do it yourself, with no help or nothing."

"Course. I don't need any help anyway. You'll see."

The banter continued until they boys got home, by which time both of them were strangely worked up by the prospect of what they had planned. They headed directly for Owen's room where the elder boy wasted no time in pulling out a box of rope from under his bed.

"Wow!" Sam said when he saw how many ropes were in the box, "You could tie an elephant up with that lot."

"Well I've never tried that!" Owen laughed before getting serious, "How do you want me?"

"Turn around, and put your hands behind your back," the youngster said without hesitation.

Owen did as he was told, and tried not to shiver as the rope was looped around his wrists, then across and then finally clinched between his hands, and the entire thing pulled tight. The knots, kept well behind his fingers so he couldn't reach them, in a way that should have looked a little suspiciously efficient, and practise, but Owen was just too excited to ask if Sam had actually tied anyone up before. His suspicions should have been further aroused when Sam announced he was going to tie Owen's elbows together. "So you can't get your hands in front of you, and use your teeth to free yourself!" he explained.

Once that task was efficiently carried out, Sam asked Owen to lay down on his bed and put his feet together. Then, when the older boy had done that, he tied Owen's ankles together, crossing the rope around and in between, with the knots on the underside so Owen couldn't even see them, let alone reach them.

"Now, I'll show you why you won't be getting out of this on your own!" Sam announced suddenly.

Turning his head, Owen saw his cousin holding one of the longest bits of rope he had, and suddenly got the idea that this was going to be a lot harder than he'd thought. But then, he'd would have been able to escape quite easily from the way Tom had bound him so he had assumed it would be even easier to get away from Tom's little brother, but that was rapidly proving not to be the case. At all.

Slowly, Sam tied one end of the rope to Owen's ankles, making sure to take a couple of turns around the centre of the ropes that already held them together, before he pulled the rope up through Owen's bound wrists. Pausing then, he took a deep breath and while at the same time pulling on the rope, he pushed Owen's ankles down until the heels were almost touching his buttocks. Then he wrapped the rope around his hands a couple more times, before moving it up to the elbows, and then back down again to the ankles, all of which were secured with several knots along the way.

"There you go!" he said when he'd finished, "See if you can get out of that one but I bet you can't get to the last knots I did and if you can't get to them then there's no way you'll be able to undo the rest of the stuff either."

Laughing to himself, Sam walked over to where he'd dropped his things when he'd come in, and picked them up.

"Hey, where are you going?" Owen asked,

"Home! My mum will be here to pick me up shortly and anyway, you said you could get out of anything, so what do you need me for?"

With that Sam walked out of the bedroom, closed the door and went downstairs to wait for his ride home, leaving Owen helplessly where he was.

Owen lay for a few minutes until it became clear Sam wasn't coming back, and then he remembered that is own mother would be downstairs and would, no doubt come up and check on him sooner or later, it was just that he didn't really want to be found like he was, yet, he was already certain that he wasn't going to be getting himself free any time soon. He was well and truly stuck. Not that the ropes were so tight they hurt, or that he was uncomfortable, but he was helpless, and that was a new feeling for him and one he wasn't sure if he liked, although he suspected that he did.

Despite making very little attempt to get free, Owen did jerk on the ropes from time to time, but with no real effect, so, in the end he just lay still and waited for the inevitable to happen, which it duly did, nearly an hour later.

The sound of the bedroom door opening turned Owen's head in that direction, but where he hoped to see Sam's smiling face it was, instead, his own mother who came into the room, her eyes wide at what she was seeing.

"Who did this to you? Was it Sam, the scamp?" she laughed, "Guess I can see what he meant now when he said you were 'too tied up' to come downstairs earlier. Still, servers you right for asking him to tie you up really."

It wasn't until later that Owen wonder just how his mother knew he'd asked Sam to tie him up, but, of course, he never asked her about it.

***

As time went passed Owen's fantasies continued, progressing from the simple act of laying on his bed, holding his hands behind his back, and rubbing is, often bare, torso on the mattress, until he'd managed to hump himself back to the same feelings he'd had when his cousins had tied him up.

By the time, he went passed his twelve birthday, Owen had managed to get together his own collection of things with which he could play his games even if he was now reduced to playing those games by himself. Of course, he kept it a secret from his parents, and didn't think he would be able to take the embarrassment of his mother catching him tied up again, especially given how little he had taken to wear when he was tied up. Somewhere along the line it had just come to him that the less he was wearing when he was tied up, then the more helpless he would be.

The one problem he did have, however, was just how to tie himself up. His first attempts – those made before Sam and Tom had shown him what it was really like to be tied up – had been of little success. Even his greatest idea of putting a slip knot into some rope, then putting it around his wrists before, finally, attaching the end of the rope to his dad's vice, so that, when he stepped away, the slip knot would close around his wrists. The problem with that was, the slip knot would also slip the other way, and the rope would fall off again with just the smallest amount of struggling on his part.

It wasn't until after Sam's visit that he hit upon the idea of tying the rope in a small circle, then putting his wrists through, and rotating one wrists to wind the rope tighter until he couldn't pull free. It would have been easier if he'd been able to tie his hands in front of himself and then to thread his feet through them, so that his arms would end up behind him but, despite Sam's earlier worry about him doing it to escape, he found that he couldn't actually do it. He didn't know if it was because his legs were too long, or his arms too short, or perhaps both, but it just didn't work.

He had rather more success using tape like Tom had to start with. If he put the roll over one of the bed knobs at the foot of his bed he could then wind it around his wrists enough so that they would stay together. Of course, he'd need a knife, handy to be able to cut himself from the roll and, eventually free, but, it worked. The only problem being the expense of the tape itself, and just how much he got through in the process of his games.

Gags were another thing he had trouble with. Once more, tape proved to be expensive to be used all the time, not to mention painful, when he pulled it off, along with most of the small hairs that were just starting to grow on his upper lip, and the longer ones around the back of his head. He tried tying a scarf around his face like they always did on TV but he soon discovered just how ineffective that actually was as he could just talk behind it, although it did work better as a blindfold but as he liked to see himself tied up, that wasn't much fun either. Or at least he didn't think so, until what turned out to be the last time he would be with his cousins.

***

The Easter break just before Owen turned thirteen was the one that changed the way his games were played, as it was the first time he actually had an orgasm brought on, not just by the bondage he was in, but by another person.

Those holidays were warm and so the three boys were urged to play outside. Naturally, Tom wasn't keen on having Sam around and kept sending him away but he did now tolerate Owen more than he had done before. He said this was because he cousin was now old enough to play 'properly' although that was more his parent's opinion than his own. Still, it did mean that the two of them could use Tom's latest, and favourite toy, his new air rifle. Of course, he wasn't actually allowed to shot anything, or anyone, with it – although he threatened Sam enough times that the younger boy had started to believe it might happen – but it did make a great prop for his mark of authority which was what he used it for, forever waving it around so Owen would do whatever he wanted.

"Come with me, you're my captive!" he said on the last day or Owen's stay, while pointing the rifle in the other boys face. The gun wasn't loaded, but Owen, remembering what had happened the last time Tom had said that to him, dutifully put his hands up and marched off over the gunman's hideout.

A scarf tied around his face as a disguise, Tom made Owen walk away from the house and down to the bottom of the garden when a lone tree was holding out against the onslaught of the bushes that surrounded it. Pushed into the centre of this, Owen was told to stand with his back to the tree and to put his hands around behind it. Knowing what was coming next, Owen was only too happy to do so.

Tom took his time, tying Owen's hands in place, actually untying them once and doing it all again when he wasn't happy with the results. Then he did the same to the boys ankles, and finally put a rope around his chest, pulling Owen back against the, thankfully, soft bark.

"You're my prisoner!" Tom then repeated, "Let's see if you like it as much as last time."

Before Owen could say anything Tom had once more pulled down his trousers – again he wasn't wearing his jeans – until he was stood there in his underwear. Only it wasn't the underwear Tom had obviously been expected.

"Where are you're boxers?" he asked, when he saw the tight white briefs his cousin had on.

Owen blushed having forgotten that he had these on: "I don't wear boxers anymore. These are more comfortable."

"Well, we'll see about that." Laughed Tom, once more reaching for Owen's waistband but this time yanking up, rather than down.

"Ouch!" yelped Owen as his testicles were squashed and the cloth of his underpants disappeared into the crack of his buttocks, making him feel even more exposed.

"Shut up, or I'll gag you!" Tom shouted back, waving the rifle once more. He then disappeared for a couple of minutes, presumably to check if anyone had heard the shouting and was about to find them.

Soon Tom returned to where Owen was still tied to a tree with is shorts down around his bound ankles and his underwear pulled up the crack of his bum. The bound boy feeling both very silly and self-conscious but also half excited by it all, especially as he didn't know what Tom was going to do next although he was about to find out.

"Want me to fix your wedge?" the now fifteen year old asked his younger cousin.

"Please!" Owen gasped but Tom just laughed at him.

"Yeah I bet you would wouldn't you." He said before unexpectedly reaching out with is hand and grabbing the tightly drawn up pouch containing Owen's genitals, and squeezing until Owen was forced to ask him to stop as he thought he was about to wet himself.

"Quiet!" Tom said to him, placing a hand over the other boy's mouth even though Owen's cry hadn't actually been that loud. "Now I'm going to have to gag you, you know that don't you."

This time Owen didn't struggle when Tom pushed a cloth into his mouth and tied it behind his head, not that the older boy seemed to notice. He had other things on his mind. "Hang on a minute while I see where everyone else is." He said, and, once more vanished.

Sighing with a mixture of relief that his genitals weren't going to squashed anymore, and disappointment that anything else wasn't going to happened to them for a while, Owen waited not overly worried. For although the gag was very effective, the ropes that held his wrists weren't, and he strongly suspected that he'd be able to worm his way out of them should he need to. So in a strange way, despite being potentially helpless and half naked, Owen was rather relax, which is why he didn't notice what happened next, until it was too late.

Facing away from the only opening between the bushes, Owen was enjoying the situation while dreaming about being really tied up tight, and naked, when suddenly he saw a shadow crossing his face, as something was pulled over his eyes. The blindfold was tied very tightly, completely blinding him but also, as it was tied not just around his head but around the post as well, forced his head to remain very still.

Naturally Owen attempted to complain at this turn in the game and managed to get a sort of sound out around the gag and, seemingly as a reward the knot holding the cloth in his mouth was then loosened. Only it wasn't removed, at least not totally. The cloth running around his face holding the gag in place was taken off, but before he could spit out the actually gag, tape had replaced it and he was unable to speak, or make any sort of sound, at all.

Panicking slightly. Owen started to work on his wrist binding, but it was too late, the unseen person behind him saw what he was doing, and in a matter of seconds had clinched the knots even tighter so there was no way he could free his hands. And if that wasn't enough, they then added extra ropes around his waist and knees so that he was stuck to the post and basically unable to move a muscle. If Owen hadn't been so scared, he'd have been in heaven.

While the tightly bound boy struggled to get free the so far unseen captive stepped back to see what would happen next. However Owen soon found he was unable to reach any of the knots that held him, and, eventually calmed down to listen for sounds of what was going on. Yet he still couldn't hear anything until hands touched his waist.

Once more Owen jumped as fingers pushed themselves under the waistband of his underpants, and slowly started to pulled them first out of his crack and then down to his thighs where they came to rest on the ropes binding his legs there. He was now of course, completely naked from the waist down and on total display to whoever it was that had him captive. And what was worse, he was getting an erection.

The cool air now blowing right across his bare bottom, Owen felt the blood surging into his boyhood which hadn't been totally soft since the ropes had started to be applied but which now, he'd been stripped was poking out in front of him like a flag pole and he could only imagine what that would look like. Not that Owen got to enjoy the sensation of being tied up with an erection flapping in the wind for long, as within seconds a warm feeling closed around the head of his pricklet.

It wasn't until some time later that Owen finally worked out that someone – whoever it was – had his prick in their mouth, as, at the time all he was aware of was his pricklet being sucked deeply in and then slowly being blown out again. Time and time again this happened, until Owen wasn't even sure it was happening anymore. And then, nearly five or ten minutes later, he wasn't sure of anything at all, as an enormous orgasm ripped through him.

The next thing Owen was aware of was his underpants being pulled back up over his now wet prick. It would be another few minutes before he then realised that the ropes on his wrists was once more loose and that he could now undo them, which he did, eventually freeing himself with nothing to show for the events that had happened, other than the damp stains in his underpants.

***

As the summer came and went, allowing autumn to settle into place, Owen lost track of the Aston brothers but not of his new hobby. No longer sure he wanted to spend time around someone who wanted to suck his prick when he was tied up, gagged and blindfolded, Owen, nonetheless could barely think of anything else. Of course, there was no one with whom he could talk about his interests but there were other ways to find out what he wanted to know, so that's what he did, spending any day when the weather was against his 'playing' outside, in the town library, researching.

Having checked out all the books by, or about, the great escapologists, Owen came to one conclusion, that they all preferred to use chains and padlocks, rather than the ropes he, himself had always favoured. He could see the logic in this as there was less chance of getting chains tangled, and overly knotted, than there was with rope, plus, there would be the chance to be really tied up if all it took was a key to release whatever bondage he put himself in. But then, on the other hand, if all it needed was a key, then where was the suspense, that was, for Owen, a big part of being tied up? The answer to that one soon revealed itself, thanks to a woman's magazine, of all things.

Most of the article was extremely dull, and of no interest to Owen, and the only thing that had attracted him in the first place, had been the accompanying drawing of what he had first thought was a tied up boy. Unfortunately, that boy turned out to be a woman, but the story, did give Owen the best tip he'd ever heard. This involved freezing a handcuff key in a block of ice before tying yourself up, and then having to wait until the ice melted before you could free yourself. It was something Owen would never have thought off by himself and something that he couldn't wait to try. The only problem, then being that he didn't actually have any handcuffs.

Another magazine solved this one for him, enabling him – and just about anyone else – to buy handcuffs by mail order. Being thirteen caused some problems when it came to payment as Owen, obviously didn't have his own credit card, but a money order from the post office sorted that one out, and the order was placed for a pair of real, steel handcuffs which, in twenty eight days would be in Owen's hands, or more likely around his wrists.

The day they arrived Owen couldn't wait to try them out, and, in fact, didn't. Putting them on his wrists almost as soon as they were out of the packaging and quickly discovering just how hard it was to get the key in the keyhole when you were the one wearing the cuffs. Still practice made perfect, and although he barely got out of them the first time, once a week or so had passed, it was so easy, that he could even do it when his hands were behind his back and/or with his eyes closed.

When winter arrived the handcuffs had become the prized piece in Owen's every growing collection of tie-up toys. These he kept hidden in an old toy box, in the middle of a load of other old toy boxes, apparently abandoned at the bottom of his wardrobe, with a light covering of old clothes, just to be sure they couldn't be accidentally discovered, which, they never were. The keys he kept separately, for security reasons, one on the ring with the rest of his keys, and another on in his bedside draw that could be used for the games themselves. By then, of course, it was too told to go outside, but having reached fourteen, Owen was about to be given even more chances to get up to his tricks.

Now deemed old enough to be left home alone, Owen used another of the tips he'd picked up from his reading to make his games all that more interesting. Using a dice to select just how he would be tied up, with what, where in the house, and what he'd be wearing when it happened. Up to that point the games, at home had always taken place in his room, but now he had the run of the entire house he branched out, sometimes playing downstairs – in places that weren't visible from the windows obviously – or even, once in his parents room. That had creeped him out a bit, so had then stuck pretty much with the attic or the garage, as they both and looked more like a place where someone would stash a kidnapped boy, as he would pretend to be.

***

Then, one day, around Easter time he finally found the perfect place, where there would be no chance of his being found, by someone, and could whatever he wanted. With his mother now spending more time at home, for some reason of her own, Owen had been forced to look for another venue, and what he found was a shed. It wasn't what he'd been looking for, having expected just to find somewhere in the woods but it was better.

The house the shed belonged to had been for sale for nearly as long as Owen could remember which is why he'd taken to using it as a short cut and it was while he was doing that when he found the shed. Totally unseen from almost everywhere, thanks to the trees that had grown over it, while the property had been unoccupied, the only people who would know it was there, would be those who happened to walk right up to it, just as Owen had done, and he'd only done that, to get out of a sudden downpour. The door into the shed was even hidden behind a bush meaning Owen could slip in and out without anyone being able to see him. Inside the shed was completely empty and somewhat specious and well lit thanks to windows set into the roof which the trees didn't block. It was, simply perfect.

Owen visited the shed several times over the next few weeks, just to be sure but eventually he built up the confidence to try it out. Nothing to drastic the first time, just a bit of rope coiled around his wrists and ankles as he lay on the wooden floor. The experiment was a success but it did bring up some problems, mainly to do with the dirtiness of the place, which may have been acceptable for a proper kidnapped boy's place, caused Owen problems so over the next few trips Owen swept out the shed, knocking down any cobwebs he found, and 'borrowed' an old rug from beside the dustbin of a neighbouring house – the bin men wouldn't have taken it anyway, so he figured he was doing the people a favour – this he then bashed seven shades of dust out off, before laying it on the shed floor. Now he was ready to give the shed a real try.

The day for the first test run came, ironically, at a time when he had the house to himself, and could have stayed at home. Still he had his mind now set on using the shed so that's what he did. Grabbing his secret toy box, he walked out of the house, down the street and into the woods. Then, when he was sure no one was following him, he circled back around, to arrive at the shed by a somewhat longer, but safer route.

Inside, Owen slipped off his shirt, shoes, socks and trousers, all of which he hung up on the hooks that lined the walls of the shed. This left him in an old pair of swimming trunks that he had come across when routing through is drawers. They were too small for him really, but as he'd found when he'd put them on, they had a fair bit of stretch in them and could be made to cover up everything that should be covered up, although very little else. In fact, if anything, they made what they covered seem even more visible than if he had been naked, by the very way they clung to his buttocks and the tight package they made in the front. A package that visible expanded as he placed the key where he could easily reach it.

As it was the first time, Owen hadn't used his cards, but planned on something simple that would render him helpless, so with that in mind he used rope to tie his ankles together with just a small amount of slack between his feet. The end of this rope he left loose, in the gap between his feet, so he could use it to tie to the chain in the centre of the handcuffs. Then, he lay down on his front, and bending his knees so his feet came across his buttocks, he reached behind himself for the handcuffs and slipped his hands inside, locking them behind his back.

Trapped in bondage of his own making, Owen rolled around on the stolen rug only occasionally slipping off onto the cold wooden floor, as he pretended to be captured. However, the game came to an abrupt end when he noticed the key had slipped from where he'd left it, and in a moment of panic he thought he was really trapped, but, as it turned out, he soon found the key and released himself again. Already aroused to the point of no return despite, or perhaps because of, the fear of being trapped, it only took the touch of his now free hand, to the pouch of his stretched swim suit, before he'd ejaculated.

On his next trip he took the time to freeze one of the handcuff keys in a small bag the night before, with only a piece of string – tied to the key – hanging out. When he arrived at the shed, he hung the key up by the string and waited to see how long the ice would melt. It took a little over half an hour, before the key fell right in front of the rub where it would be easy for him to reach it. This would, Owen knew, work perfectly with the newest parts of his kit which were some scraps of thin but strong chains that he was able to find at the local DIY store. These along with a set of four padlocks from the same store, would enable him to completely chain himself up, and even gave him a lot of spare keys that he could hide around the place, just in case things didn't work out as they should have.

***

Finally the day when Owen could put all of his plans together came. His mum and dad would be busy all day, and there was no school, plus it was a warm day, and more to the point, he'd had enough warning to get the key into the freezer the night before. Then, just as he was about to head out of the front door, he made a show of saying he wanted a drink, and returned to the kitchen. Neither of his parents noticing the way he cupped his hands as he finally went outside for the first time. Only then did Owen dare let go of the ice block he was holding, so it would swing free from the string that was frozen into its centre, where the handcuff key was held in its icy prison. The remains of Owens kit, was safe inside the toy box – now stuffed with cloth so the chains wouldn't rattle – inside the back pack he slung casually over his shoulder as he made his usual circular journey around to the shed.

Arrived at the shack, Owen made a tour, peering each and every way until he was sure no one had either followed him, or could see him as he slipped inside, and latched the door behind him. Of course, anyone who happened to come along could have easily opened the door and found him, but he'd already considered that and had attached a hook on the inside that would hold the door closed, so that, should anyone try it, they would assume it was locked and leave. Still, Owen didn't take any chances and sat down to wait exactly fifteen minutes before he did anything else. That, he figured, would be as long as anyone investigating him would take, plus it would move the ice melting on a bit before he got going.

The first thing Owen did was to tie the sting coming from the ice to a nail at waist height which would mean that it would still be in his eye line, even though he wouldn't be able to actually reach it. On the floor beneath it he laid out some of the cloths from his toy box, which would both soak up the water dripping from the ice, but more importantly, prevent the key from bouncing out of reach, or worse yet, down some hole in the floor.

Now it was time for the fourteen year old to strip which he did, getting down to the tight underwear he had on in seconds. The reason for these being clear the second he took his jeans off, as the tight blue cloth only just managing to control his erection, as he folded his clothes into a neat pile on a shelf at the back of the shack. Of course, the briefs soon joined the clothes on the shelf, and, at long last, Owen's half hard prick sprung up from his faintly haired loins, to flap about in the air, as collected the supplies he would need from his rucksack – now also on the shelf – and returned to sit on the floor rug.

The process was planned out well in advance, and Owen had decided that this time he'd take the simpler option and make it so that his hands would be the first thing free, followed by his legs. Next time, however, he'd do it the other way around, making it so that he'd only be able to take off the handcuffs, once he had the use of his legs back. This would be done by freezing the padlock keys and placing the handcuff key on the shelf with his clothes. This time, however, it was the handcuff key he'd wait to release itself, and then, with his hands free, he would be able to get his legs out of their chains. He usually preferred things the other way, as he'd come to the conclusion that fastening his hands either behind his back, or over his head, was the real key, as then he was truly helpless, at least until he could get them free again. After all, if you could only tie up one part of a person, it was always the hands, wasn't it?

With those thoughts running through his head, Owen settled down to the very careful plans he'd made. Carrying out a quick check that everything was ready. His clothes on the shelf, the ice melting, a place for the key to fall, and finally, himself, naked, and ready to be captured by some unknown person, or people.

Taking a long chain, Owen wrapped it around one ankle a couple of times and locked in with a padlock. The other end of the same chain, then went around the other ankle, and was also fastened with a padlock. This left a little over a foot of chain between his ankles which would prevent too much cramping in his legs. He then took the handcuffs and a small metal clasp. The latter of these featured a very strong, sprung clip used to attach too lengths of chain together, as a temporary measure. This is just what Owen was going to use it for, as he snapped it first into the centre of the chain holdings his legs and then into the middle of the short chain separating the handcuffs from each other.

Once all the steelwork was in place, Owen picked up the final two items that would make his situation seem all the more realistic. The small rubber ball, had come from an old game he'd found while poking around his toy box. As soon as he'd seen it Owen realised what other use he could use it for. Now snapped from the elastic cord that had held it to the matching bat, Owen opened his mouth and pushed the ball inside. It was just a bit bigger than his mouth but would easily squash down to fit between his teeth. Then, once inside it would spring back to its full size, filling his mouth completely, trapping his tongue to the bottom of his palate, and, naturally, silencing him. It would be difficult, but not impossible for him to push this ball out of his mouth again, but, Owen soon sorted that by placing a long strip of wide parcel tape, across his mouth and around the back of his head. Pressing this down, meant there was no way he could get the gag off by himself, which was just as it should be. There would be no calling for help, even if he wanted to, so all he had to do now, was give him something he could possible want help from.

Laying face down on the rug, Owen carefully adjusted his prick so it wouldn't be too painfully trapped underneath him, laying a small cloth in that position, so there would be no stains to clean up either. Then, when that was down, he bend his knees to bring his feet up behind his back, until the surprisingly cold steel of the handcuffs dropped onto his naked rear. Reaching around with his hands, he took hold of the steel and slipped the first cuff around his left wrist and snapped it shut. There was no turning around now. Even with one hand still free, he couldn't get the other loose so there was really nothing else for it, but to work his right wrist into the remaining cuff and, after a short struggle, snap that shut too. That was it. He'd done it. He was naked, gagged and helpless until the ice melted and that wouldn't be for a while yet.

For a while Owen was content to just lay there in his self applied bondage, thinking about things he could, or couldn't do to get loose. The ice key was, of course, out of the question, as he couldn't reach it, and so were the padlock keys. The only thing he could possibly reach would be the snap holding the cuffs to the ankle chain, but it was a very strong catch and he doubted he could release it from where he was and didn't want to really try, as there was no way, he'd be able to put it back on again, so that would have ruined the entire thing.

After a while Owen started to struggle, even though he knew it was pointless, just to make it all seem more real. Rolling around on the rub, did have some effect, of course, just as he knew it would, as his by now hard, prick rubbed on the cloth covered rug. The activity made soon heated him up, causing sweat to break out all over his body, and for his breathing to become laboured behind the gag, as he worked himself more and more up into the ejaculation that had always been the goal all along. Then the door handle rattled.

Instantly Owen's entire body grew still as listened. His head turned towards the door but he couldn't quite see it, as he'd managed to turn himself part of the way around during his 'struggles'. Now facing towards the only bare wall of the shed, he may not have been able to see anything other than the timber planks, but he certainly could hear muffled voices.

Fear and embarrassment clouded Owen. Fear of being found tied up, embarrassment of being naked. Either would have been bad enough on its own, but together. He looked towards the ice, but it was less than half melted. He remained still, hoping the voices would go away, but they didn't. IN the end, there was nothing else for it, he was going to have to try to get out early. And the only way he could do that would be to get the snap unattached but, in doing so, he would have to make some rather drastic movements and that would mean noise from the chains but it was no use, no sooner had he started to try this, than the door handle turned again, and given a sharp tug. The safety hook, dropped off, and the door opened.

Owen froze in fear. He had a story already worked out that he could tell about how some of his mates had left him in the abandoned shed, naked and chained up, as some sort of joke, but, that would be little comfort if he was found out as he was. Not that he would have all that long to think about it, as the sunlight filled the shed, blocked only by two figures standing in the doorway.

"Blimey!" said the shorter of the two. His slightly taller friend agreeing with him.

"You can say that again." The second said, as the pair of them took the step inside, at which point the smaller one exclaimed the one thing Owen would have dreaded more than anything else. If he'd thought of it.

"Hey, I know you! Hey look Tom, it's cousin Owen!"

"Jesus, it is as well, Sam," Tom Ashton said. It had been a while since Owen had seen the brothers and clearly they'd changed in that time. Not only were they now, clearly spending more time with each other but, they no longer dressed like they had done either. Tom, now, fifteen was taller than Owen remembered him, although given he was laying on the floor, that may not have been the case. Anyway, dressed in tight jeans, with a wide brown leather belt, and baseball jersey tucked in he looked every inch the youth he had become. His light brown hair hanging both down to his shoulders and poking out through the front of his backwards facing baseball cap, only adding to the image he'd created for himself and which Sam, had clearly attempted to follow. The only difference between them, other than height being the looseness of Sam's jeans, and that he wore a basketball vest rather than a baseball jersey. The vest handing off his slender frame, showing rather a lot of pale flesh on his arms and shoulders, where his blond hair had yet to reach, or even to peek out from under the baseball cap he wore, backwards, of course.

"So, Owen," Tom asked, "Who did this to you then?"

"No one!" Sam replied, clearly remembering things from earlier, "I think he did this to himself."

"Don't be daft!" his brother said, much to Owen's relief. Short lived relief as it turned out.

"No really, he did. You see this key in the ice hanging here. I bet that's the key to the handcuffs or the chains, or both and that he'll use it to get out."

"He'd never reach it, stupid!"

"He doesn't have to, he just waits for the ice to melt and the key falls down right in front of him."

"Damn!" Tom realised the logic in that, "That's a weird thing to do, ain't it. I mean it made sense if someone had done it to him, so he could be initiated into a gang or something but to do it to himself. Jesus!"

Sam, however, didn't seem the slightest bit surprised, and continued to explore, Owen's set up: "See, up on his shelf, there's his clothes and stuff."

"Shit!" Tom said, looking at where his brother pointed but then, slowly, a smile spread across his face. "You know what, seeing as cousin Owen here went to so much trouble do to his… er… thing, why don't we help him out, eh, Sam?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, first thing we could do is take his clothes and stuff and hide them in the woods, that would make his game loads more interesting, don't you think?"

"Yeah! I guess." Sam's smile matched his brothers and he started to collect up Owen's clothes which he put inside the rucksack.

"Oh and while you're doing that Sam, why don't you go and get Jon, cos he's got to see this."

Owen shuddered at the mention of the name. There was only one Jon he knew off and that was Jon Tyler, who despite being slightly older than him, had the distinction of being the only boy to be kicked out of the local Comp for reasons that had never been fully explained but which, he was sure, couldn't be good sign.

Thankfully the instant Sam left, Tom lost interest in just staring at Owen's nude, bound and helpless body, and started his own search of the shed. Spotting almost at once the toy box containing all of Owen's tie-up kit. Not that there was much left in it, just some strips of cloth, small coils of rope, cord and clothesline, a couple of rolls of tape, and the remained of the chains, and padlocks. But worse than all of that, were all of Owen's notes and drawings of the things he'd already done to himself, and those which he had yet managed to do, not to mention those which excited him, but which he wasn't entirely sure he'd actually like to happen. Still, as embarrassing as having all his secrets reviled was, it did give Owen the perfect chance to try to escape. Although as things turned out, it took him nearly all that time just to get his thumb into the right place to release the catch before Sam returned, breathless, without the rucksack, but not alone.

"Shit!" Jon Tyler said, striding into the shed, "He's really fucking naked."

"He's tied up too," Tom, stated, without turning from the shelf, "And what's more he did it to himself."

"You're kidding, right." Laughed Jon, "Didn't you do this to him?"

"Nope, he did it to himself. Got himself naked, and gagged, and then chained himself up, all by himself."

"Shit!"

"Shit indeed." Tom turned, to stand beside his latest friend, looking down at their helpless surprise, "So what we going to do with him then, Jon?"

"Well," we could just give him his keys and clothes and let him go," the slightly older fifteen year old said, waiting patiently until Owen looked up towards him, before he added, "But I don't think we'll do that, do you."

"Nope!" laughed Tom, and for the first time Owen realised with a sinking feeling that his cousin clothes all but matched those of the nearest the area had to a 'bad boy'. The tight jeans, the baseball shirt, the backwards baseball cap, even the brown belt. It all matched.

"We've already hidden his clothes so he's got to go home naked." Tom added.

"Good one." Jon congratulated Tom with a slap on the arm, "Tell you what, seeing as everyone is going to be seeing him, then it seems only fair that we get to have a look too, give me a hand to roll him over, will you?"

Between them the two bigger boys had no trouble at all in rolling Owen onto his side, which, naturally exposed everything the bound boy had to them all.

"He's only a little kid, like your brother, ain't got no hair or nothing," Mocked Jon.

"He's got some hair." Pointed out Sam, before he withdrew under the glare of his big brother.

"Yeah, well it still ain't much to look at so roll him back over so we don't have to look at it no more."

A little reluctantly, Tom did as he was told, and they were left, once more looking at Owen's buttocks which, soon gave Jon another idea.

"What do you think would have happened if the owner of this shed had found him trespassing on his property, Tom?"

The other shrugged. "He'd call the cops."

"Well, probably, but do you know what I think would happen, I'd think that he want to make sure that our little tie-up boy here, got punished, wouldn't he."

"Sure, that's why he'd call the cops!"

"No he wouldn't, not if he had something to hide himself. Something dodgy that he was doing in the shed himself. Then he couldn't call no cops, could he? Then he'd have to do something himself to make sure that tie-up boy don't want to come back here no more. Not ever, wouldn't he?"

"I guess." Tom shrugged again, although by now he was pretty sure where Jon was going with this, "So what would he do then?"

"Well, I think, that if he found the kid here all tied up and helpless, with his bare bum hanging out and everything that he'd think there was only one way that he could punish him there and then, on the spot for breaking into the shed and playing his strange little games and do you know what this is Tom?"

Tom, did, but he knew better than to say so. Instead he just waited for Jon to finish what he was saying.

"Why, he'd give him a spanking wouldn't he. Whack his bare little bum until he knew that he couldn't do stuff like this no more."

"A spanking?" Tom repeated, and for the first time Owen realised just what that meant, and started to struggle for real, his thumb pressing down on the catch, but slipping right off again with a loud click.

"Hey, he's trying to get loose," Jon reacted first, "Grab him."

At once the two older boys, dropped to the floor on either side of Owen's helpless body. Their hands falling on his ankles and wrists, pulling the two apart, and of course, removing his fingers from anywhere near the catch that could have, possibly freed him. The pair of them holding on until, after only a few minutes, Owen realised that he was wasting his time and finally grew still.

"At last." Jon sighed, "You keep still now boy, and take what's coming to you."

The words had a ring of truth about them, causing the Ashton brothers to stare at their older friend at this insight into his passed. The looks soon made Jon feel uncomfortable, so he barked out an order to Sam to stop it. "Get that other rug, roll it up, and then slide it under his tummy."

Owen didn't understand, and nor did his cousins but as the bound boy's middle was lifted and the rolled rug slipped under him it became plain and obvious what Jon had in mind. Especially once his hips were raised up and his buttocks suddenly became the highest point of his body. Exposed and open to the attack they were clearly just about to get.

"Right then," Jon said, when all was in place, "Time to heat him up."

SMACK! The fifteen year old's hand crashed down so suddenly on Owen's unprotected rear that he had no time to prepare for it and the hard palm collided with his soft flesh the sound echoed around the small shed.

"You're turn Tom? You spank him on your side." Jon didn't have to ask twice.

SMACK!

This time Owen was more prepared but still it hurt more than he would have expected it to and if he hadn't have had a rubber ball stuffed in his mouth then he would have been sure to be screaming the hut down, especially as that wasn't the end of the matter.

SMACK! SMACK!

SMACK! SMACK!

SMACK! SMACK!

The two youths took it in rhythmic turn to spank Owen's helpless rear. Soon turning it from its previous near white, to a bright pink that was every bit as contrasting to the brow-ness of his legs and back but in a totally different way. Owen for his part, did his best to avoid the stinging slaps, even though there was actually very little he could do about it other than clench and unclench his buttocks. Unfortunately, for him, that had a result he couldn't have possible predicted, even though it did bring an end to his chastisement just not in the way he would have liked, for it had given Jon another idea.

"Damn!" the youth said, "He keeps squeezing his bum and I can't get a good shot in."

Tom, who was getting plenty of good shots in, and had thought Jon had been doing the same – as had Owen himself – didn't say anything, knowing there'd be a follow up, and indeed there was.

"You know," Jon continued, "I heard there was something you could do that would stop him from squeezing his bum like that, do you think we should try it, and see if it works."

"Sure!" Tom said, just as he knew he was expected to.

"Right, then," Jon jumped up, "I'll need to get something. You two wait here and don't let him go until I get back. Okay."

No one dared move for the few minutes the bigger boy was gone, although Owen did when he returned carrying an open knife. "Don't worry, it ain't for you." The youth laughed, as Tom and Sam struggled to hold him down, "It's for this?"

"What's that?" Sam asked for everyone at the sight of the strange looking vegetable Jon held.

"It's a ginger root. My mum's had them in for ages since she saw them on some telly cooking show, only she don't know what the hell to do with it so its just sat there, but it would be great for to stop him from clenching his bum when we spank him."

"How?"

"Simple," Jon leant against the door of the shed, using the knife on the root vegetable, as he explained what he was doing: "What you have to do is skin off all the skin so it's all nice and smooth so it'll go into him dead easy."

"Into him?" repeated Sam, as Owen shuddered beneath him.

"Yeah, that's the tricky bit getting it into him, or rather getting it to stay there so what I have to do is about two thirds of the way down from the pointed end, is to carve a grove around it so that when it goes in his bum hole can close into the gap and make it hard for him to push it out again."

The brothers looked first at each other, then at Owen's blushing buttocks and then back up at Jon who continued his demonstration, just like someone would at the supermarket he'd worked at since being thrown out of school.

"The ring no more than half an inch wide and to make it in the middle of the widest part, and then to temper it so that the root gets smaller all the way down to the tip. That way you'll be able to get the thin end inside his bum without any trouble and then push it in so that as it gets wider his bum has to open up and take it. Then, when it gets to the widest part, the ring turns up and suddenly his bum hole closes into it and, hey presto, he's all plugged up."

Again the brothers weren't sure if Jon was kidding or not, although Tom had a fairly good idea that he wasn't, especially when he dipped the root vegetable in some cold water and told them to spread Owen's buttocks open so he could see his hole.

Owen couldn't believe this was happening. It was like something out of one of his dreams, where no only would he be tied up and gagged but then a gang of rough boys would use him for sex or, in the other version of the tale, a group of posh boys, would do much the same, but for different reasons, either to punish him for something or to initiate him into their gang. That said though, Owen wasn't too sure he actually wanted that root up his bum, even if he had made some prompts in that direction himself on his own. Not that he could do anything about it anyway, not now he was all chained up and being held by his cousins.

Slowly Jon moved himself into position between Owen's bent legs. Sam and Tom, pulling the chained limbs as far as they could to either side so he had full access to both the crack and the tiny hole that had been hidden there. Soon the tip of the cold, wet vegetable was being rubbed up and down the valley between Owen's spanked buttocks. It's motion slowly reducing until it was just circling around the hole itself, at which point all four boys held their breath and waited for whatever was going to happen next.

Slowly, but surely, the vegetable was first pushed, and then twisted and turned into Owen's bottom, which quite a bit less trouble than two of the boys had expected but then the Ashton brothers had never done anything like this before, while Owen, and to a greater extent Jon had. In fact Jon was something of an expert as this sort of thing as it was just the sort of action that had seem him expelled from Hampton Comp in the first place. The school had covered it but, but there were a few younger boys who know only too well, just how much, and how easily, Jon Tyler could push things into their bottoms. Just as then, long before anyone else expected it, Jon was able to take his hand away and the plugging vegetable stayed right where he'd put it, clenched tight in Owen's sphincter.

"Okay that'll hold it in." Jon said, "Now we can spank him some more and he won't be able to clench his bum closed like he was doing before."

And that's what they did, the two older boys taking up the same positions they had before, to spank at Owen's unprotected and well plugged bottom, attacking from each side in turn.

SMACK! SMACK!

SMACK! SMACK!

SMACK! SMACK!

"Hey, he's crying!" Sam pointed out, after around five minutes, "Maybe you guys should stop before you hurt him."

"Don't be a wimp!" snapped Tom only to find Jon didn't agree with him.

"The squirt's right," the bigger lad said, scratching at the lump in his jeans, "We don't want to do nothing to him that's going to show and get noticed, do we?"

Naturally, Tom agreed, and scratched the stretched front of his own jeans, "So, what we going to do then?"

"We'll leave him here, of course, that'll teach him for messing with us." He laughed and jumped up, after giving Owen's buttocks one last slap, "Come on Tom, let's get out of here."

"What about…?" Tom started to ask, but by the time he did Jon was already leaving so he had little choice to follow, leaving Sam alone with their naked, bound and gagged, cousin.

The End