The worst thing was the waiting.

It must have been nearly an hour since I'd got to my mate Jackson's shed and despite the pad my knees were starting to get a little ache from kneeling on the shipping pallet for so long.

There was nothing I could do about it though. Not with the way I was chained down to the palet, and held up by the engine jack the arm of which was hovering above me. Not that I could see it, given I had one of those airline blindfolds meaning I couldn't see nothing.

I didn't complain though, and not just because of the sponge ball in my mouth, as this was already the most fun I'd ever had in all my thirteen, soon to be fourteen years. I mean my cock couldn't have been any harder, and was likely to stay like that for some time to come. If you pardon the pun!

It was my birthday see. Well it would be in a few days. Mum and dad would be doing the family thing then. Handing out cards from relatives I couldn't have picked out of a line up, and presents that weren't anything like the stuff I'd asked for. This was though. This was just what I'd asked for. Not from my family but from my friends.

They were outside now. I could hear them. Terry and Jackson.

At least I hoped like hell it was them cos the last thing I wanted was for one of our parents to catch us at it like Terry's mum had. That had been dead embarrassing, even though we hadn't been naked. Thank God.

"Boys will be boys!" she'd said, with a laugh, and even given my bare bum a smack which really stung largely cos her son had been doing the same thing earlier only he hadn't just used his hands, before giving my arse-hole a right seeing too, just like a proper Master should. Thankfully Mrs. Henderson hadn't seen that, or anything else we'd got up to since.

On Terry's fourteenth birthday I'd been his slave for the day. I mean a proper slave too. All naked and chained up all day, waiting on him hand and foot. Not to mention a few other parts of my body as well.

It had been so much fun. Not so much for my bum which was sore for days after both inside and out, if you know what I mean? Shame Jackson had to miss it, but I'm not sure we'd have done the entire slave thing if he'd not been staying with his dad that week, what with Jackson being black and everything. It don't seem right even though his ancestors weren't actually slaves or nothing but still, I mean, I ain't right.

Least that's what me and Terry thought. Jackson didn't though. He was well pissed he'd missed it, which I think is why Terry made him in charge of my birthday thing, and I'm sure glad he did cos I'd have never thought of using the engine jack to hold me up and I know Terry wouldn't have done neither. Genius. That's what it was. Pure ruddy Genius. But then Jackson's clever with stuff like that. Dead clever.

It was comfortable too. Bit tricky to get into, it has to be said, as was the whole thing even with all the instructions Jackson had written out for me in his tiny, yet tidy handwriting.

"Take off all your clothes," that had been instruction number one with the second one being to put my clothes – all of them, shoes and underwear included – into this big box that I then had to seal with a padlock to which there weren't no key. So I would know that I wasn't going to be getting my clothes back until my mates were done to me.

Horny or what?

I was. I can tell you that. Got a lob on that just wouldn't quit. It wasn't even flopping about. Just stuck right up in the air, like it was some sort of coat hook, or something.

Anyway, I got all naked out in the little room that's before you go into the workshop proper, so I didn't even know what I was getting into when I made myself all naked and then made sure I had to stay that way.

I mean anything or anyone could have been in the workshop waiting for me to walk in with my stiffie leading the way. Could have been more guys from school. Maybe even some girls but then girls don't know how to keep a secret so I doubt Jackson would have told them nothing. Well that and we don't know none of the girls at school but still it was something that I thought about when I stepped through the doorway into the workshop.

At first I didn't realise what Jackson had set up. I saw the big square wooden shipping pallet on the floor of course as you could hardly miss it being as big as it was and because I was looking down so I wouldn't step on anything nasty that needed a tetanus shot. That really ain't the sort of pain that gets me off.

So, it was the chains I saw next. Proper chains too. All metal, shiny and brand new and big. The links were like two inches [5 cm] long each. Not the tiny stuff I'd used to made shackles and hobbles when I'd been Terry's birthday slave. These were real, heavy duty things that had to be bolted down to the corners of the pallet with locking bolts that could only come off with spanners. That being the sort of detail that Jackson loves. Making sure that everything is as good as it could be. You should see the bike it made. It was brilliant. And so was what he'd set up for me.

Like I said there were big chains bolted to each corner of the pallet, and each of them had a big spring clip on the end as did a fifth chain – longer than the others – that was bolted to the front middle of the pallet. That one I didn't know what was for yet but it was another stroke of Jackson genius, like the engine jack.

Now I don't know if you know what an engine jack looks like but it's a sort of mini crane thing, used for taking engines out of cars. It's got two big long feet, with wheels on that go under the car and then an upright bit that goes up the side and which goes up and down to lift stuff, with an arm that comes out of the top, that reaches over the car, and has a hook on the end so you can use straps of chains around the engine itself which it then hoists out. That's what an engine jack is meant to do, only Jackson had set up for something different and yet a little bit similar too. Only it weren't no car engine it was going to be lifting but me. A teenage kid.

You see this is why the pallet was there. Not just so the chains could be bolted to something as a flat bit of board would have done the same thing, but so the feet of the engine jack could go inside it and leave the hook thing above the middle of the pallet.

There weren't no engine on the hook, but there was chains. Three of them. Two that split into four that were attached to the corners of this sort of sling thing that they may, or may not, use to wrap engines in (I'm not sure about that) and the other one with just a spring clip on the end. None of which I could work out the use for until I spotted another of Jackson's notes on the work bench on top of some other stuff.

"Put these on," is what it said. Short and sweet, a bit like Jackson himself really, only don't tell him I said that as he gets a bit touchy about him being smaller than me and Terry. Don't know why as there's really not much between him and me. Terry's a bit taller but not much. Odd thing though, Jackson don't mind being called sweet. Guess that's a black thing, cos me and Terry hate it.

Anyway, what 'these' that I had to put on turned out to be was dog collars. Five of them. Four small and one big. Don't know what size dogs them little ones was for but they must have been the size of rats cos them collars were just about the perfect fit for my wrists and ankles.

Course Jackson being Jackson they weren't just normal dog collars as he'd messed with them so that they couldn't just be buckled closed but locked with tiny padlocks. Naturally there was no keys for them nor the big one that went around my neck. That also locked, of course, without a padlock though as it had something built in that clicked as I closed it and then refused to budge.

All the collars had at least one rings fixed to them, where the dog leads would normally go, only the one for my neck have two, directly opposite each other which you wouldn't need for a dog, but you did for what Jackson had in mind. Of course, there weren't no dog leads, but there were chains, and it given how many times I'd been tied up to stuff, both on my own and with my mates, it didn't take me a second to realise that these had something to do with the spring clips on the ends of the chains.

I was dead right.

Before I could go about connecting stuff up, there was more of Jackson's instructions to read though as he'd made up a new way to shut me up involving what looked like a squashy dog's ball screwed – yes actually screwed – onto another locking dog collar.

It wasn't tricky to work out how to use it. The ball went in my mouth and the belt went over the top locking around my head so I couldn't spit the ball out. Simply but effective and so much better than the duct tape I'd used before as it wouldn't pull out all the little hairs on my neck when I took it off.

Mind you that ball was a bit of a tight squeeze going into my mouth as I really had to open my jaw wide to get it in, but once it sprung out, it filled my mouth completely so my tongue couldn't do nothing let alone talk which I've always found to be a great feeling ever since Terry used to put his hand over my mouth to shut me up when we were little kids.

Think that was probably the first time I got turned on by not being able to do something. Not that I knew it then cos like I was only a little kid in juniors then but I never stopped Terry from doing it, and would talk nonsense just so he would.

That's how we got started that is. Terry hand gagging me. Proper gags soon followed. Not great ones as we didn't really know what we was doing so was just copying stuff we'd seen on TV, most of which don't work, I have to tell you. I mean, just why would tying a hankie across someone's face stop them from talking. You have to put something in their mouth for that so their tongue don't work, or make it so their mouth don't open. Preferably both.

Many a time at Terry's house I'd spend not being able to say nothing. It happened at my house too, but that was usually just me doing it to myself, which ain't really the same thing, as obviously I have to be able to ungag myself so it takes a bit of the fun out of it cos, like you're not really trapped if you can get free, are you?

Jackson said that the first time he saw me all gagged up. Him and us met up in senior school three years ago, and we hit it off straight away. All the same me and Terry didn't tell Jackson about me getting gagged all the time, he just found out. Came round Terry's house looking for him, after having been to mine first, and Mrs. Henderson let him in and sent him up, so he walked right in on my with a load of duct tape over my face, just sitting there watching telly in Terry's room.

"Why don't you tie him up so he can't take it off?" was his solution to the problem me and Terry hadn't even known we had, but as Terry pointed out, we didn't have nothing to tie me up with. At least we didn't think so. Jackson so found loads of stuff we could use. Shoe laces for one. Eclectic cable for another. He even showed up how to roll socks and other clothes into a sort of rope that could be used for restraining me. "Of course," he said at the time, "Chain would be best of all." And soon we had some of that too. Plus locks and bolts and stuff, to go with it. All from the workshop behind Jackson's house.

It had been his dad's back when he lived with Jackson's mum, only there wasn't the sort of work he needed around where we lived, so he'd gone someplace up north instead. Jackson and his mum stayed behind cos she had her job and Jackson had school. He still sees his dad and his dad sends money back so it ain't all bad. Plus we get the workshop to do our bondage thing in.

Yeah, we know what it's called. Found out didn't we, when we were looking for new ideas of what to do. Not that we didn't know it was a sex thing. That had been obvious from the first time me and Terry had got stiffies whilst doing it. Not that we could do much with them back then in Juniors, but it was sure fun to try.

Course once we was doing that, then one thing led to another and, well, you know, there weren't nothing we didn't do to and with each other, even though it was mostly Terry doing it to me, until that time I was his slave. Then I did it him.

Jackson though. He didn't really do nothing to neither me or Terry for ages once he'd joined in tying me up. It was obvious that he wanted to, cos he'd always wear these trackie trousers which would get all tented up when he was telling us of some new way to make me helpless. Other than that though, he didn't get all hands on even though me and Terry gave him loads of chances to. We just thought he weren't interested in sexing it up with boys, which was a shame but turns out we were wrong all along. He wanted too. He just thought we wanted to do stuff with each other and not him. Which weren't it at all. So that was another reason why we let him sort out my birthday, so he could whatever he wanted. However he wanted. And what he wanted was me, naked down on all fours and helpless.

"Clip the chains A and B onto your ankle cuffs."

That was another of Jackson's instructions and yes, he'd numbered up the chains like that somewhat manky old shipping pallet was the latest thing from some Swedish furniture store.

Anyway, I did what I was told, which weren't as easy as it sounds cos them spring clips he'd put on the ends of the chain were so stiff that I had to use both hands on each on, in order to get them onto the rings on the dog collars.

"Kneel down on the mat provided," came next, and this was probably the easiest instruction I had.

"Open up the sling with your hands and then lay down in it so that your stomach and chest are inside it."

Bit awkward this one as the sling was made of quite thick canvas which cos it was hanging from the engine jack wanted to stay closed even when there was a boy inside it. I made it though and if felt a bit like, you know, when your in the park, where the swings are, and instead of sitting on them, you lay on them and push yourself off with your feet. That's what it was like, only my feet were chained to the floor and I was kneeling on a mat. But you get the idea. Jackson certainly had.

The next instruction finally told me what the other chain hanging from the hook was for. It clipped to the back of the collar around my neck, while the fifth chain attached to the pallet went on the other side. Combined they meant I couldn't move my head much, as the living room was quite wide but it wasn't tight or northing so I wasn't about to strangle myself. Like I said. Jackson things of everything.

This was especially true of the last two things I had to do. One was put on the airline blindfold that Jackson had saved from the last time he'd flown up to be with his dad, and attaching the chains to my wrists.

Naturally I wouldn't be able to put the blindfold on once my hands were chained to the pallet but likewise I wouldn't be able to see the chains once I had the blindfold on, to clip them to my wrists.

Jackson had it all sorted though as he'd made the wrist chains longer than they looked. So long in fact that they could, just about touch in the middle. This meant that first put the blindfold on my head, but not over my eyes. Then pulled the chain for my right hand over so my left hand to hold, before attaching the left chain to that wrist. Now, with only my right hand free, I used that to move the blindfold into place over my eyes, then, without being able to see anything, feel around until I can clip the final chain to my right wrist. And I was done.

Of course with the wrist chains being a bit long, I wasn't restrained quite as much as I would have liked, yet Jackson had thought of that too, as right by my right hand was the control box for the engine jack with a sticker on it that said: "Press this: Once!" over the green button. So I did.

The engine jack was really loud when it started up making me jump even though I'd been expecting it to do something when the I pushed the button.

What it did, other than make loads of noise, was to start to go slowly upwards. Not that I really noticed this. Not until I started to go up with it.

The sling I was laying in first tightened on my belly, then lifted me up. Not far. Just a few inches but it was enough to make my arms and legs go dead straight, and to tighten all the chains that were holding me to a point where I really couldn't move at all.

My hands and knees were still on the ground. I wasn't like swinging from the engine jack or anything, although that might have been fun! But I was higher than I had been before, and my with my back perfectly horizontal and parallel to the pallet. Just how Jackson worked it all out I'll never understand even though he would be bound to explain it to me at some point in a way that was worse than being stuck there for an hour in the first place before Terry and Jackson turned up.

They didn't say anything when they opened the outer door to the workshop but I knew it was them cos Terry was wearing the new trainers he got for his birthday and they still do the squeaky thing new trainers do when they ain't been worn in yet. I couldn't hear Jackson at all, but he had to be there as he'd set it all up and wasn't about to miss it, was he.

It was about this time that I realised that the way Jackson had set the pallet up meant that my bum was pointed right at the door. What's more, it wasn't just my bum they'd be seeing because my legs weren't together, so they'd be able to see my nuts as well, and probably my bum hole too. Terry had seen both before, but Jackson hadn't. No one was going to see my cock though, as that was so stiff by then that it had stuck itself to my belly, or at least the canvas sling my belly was in.

The door into the workshop opened and I tensed up, suddenly aware of just how vulnerable I was chained up the way I was. Not that even that could make my stiffy go away. If anything it got stiffer. Least I think it did, as I couldn't see it. The living room not letting me look underneath myself.

I heard a sharp intake of breath as the door closed again, which I assume was Terry, because, well it sounded like Terry and was followed by the slap of skin on skin, which just had to be Terry giving Jackson a high five for a job well done cos I didn't feel anyone spanking me.

Yet.

Not much else happened for a while after that. Footsteps – one set squeaking one not – moved around me, as they checked that I'd done everything right, which I had. Jackson though – it had to be Jackson as only he would have know how to do it – did make one adjustment.

The noise of the engine jack was even louder when I wasn't expecting it and for a moment I thought I was being let down, but that wasn't it at all. I was going further up. Not much further as it turned out. Just enough to take the weight of my knees which was a relief. Not that that was why Jackson did it, of course. He wanted a better target.

WHACK!

Something struck me right across the bum. Something that wasn't as hard as wood, but was more like leather. Really wide leather that was at least as big wide as my bum was high. Cos it hit me everywhere at once.

WHACK!

It happened again. But from the other side. Clearly they had one each and were taking turns. And they did it again.

WHACK!

WHACK!

This wasn't the first time I'd been spanked. Not even the first time I'd been spanked by my friends, as Jackson clearly liked doing it, if the front of his trackies were anything to go by. Only that had always been over his knee, or bent over the end of Terry's bed, something like that. Not on my knees in the middle of the floor. Not that it made any difference. My bum got all stingy all the same.

Then it wasn't just my bum that was getting smacked at but my legs too.

WHACK!

WHACK!

Now that really stings. Way worse than getting spanked on the bum. Way worse. But there were even worse things than that, as I was about to find out.

WHACK!

WHACK!

My thighs got another one each and then that was over, not that I got a chance to relax or anything like that, as the next think I know someone is holding my nuts.

They just reach between my legs and grabbed them. One hand. Don't know whose hand. But then had my nuts pulled back between my legs all trapped in a ring of their thumb and forefinger.

Then they slapped my nuts.

Yeah! They slapped me right on the nuts and let me tell you this. That hurts every bit as much as being kicked in the balls only more so, and yet, less at the same time. It's an odd thing to describe, but even odder to go through. Only happened twice, but that was more than enough to make my eyes water but yet not nearly enough to stop my stiffie as another hand was soon discovering.

Fingers were under my belly. Touching my stiffie just like that first time Terry had done it when we'd been little kids. Only this wasn't the accident he'd pretended that had been. This was on purpose as there was no brushing against it but a proper grab and even a little jacking. Not much though cos that would have bought me right off, and Jackson – I think it was him – wasn't about to do that. Not yet anyway.

Hands left both my nuts and cock before I got to squirt, and for a few moments I was left alone which was the oddest sensation. It was like they were ignoring me. Teasing me. And that was dead frustrating to a point that I was starting to wish someone would slap my nuts again. Only they didn't do that. They did something that was even better.

There was a click behind my head, and the belt wrapped around my face went slack as it opened up. I was still gagged though, as I couldn't get the ball out of my mouth without using my hands. Or someone else's hands anyway. Even then it was a struggle to get the ball out. Not that my mouth was left empty for long.

A cock replaced it. Terry's cock. I knew that much cos it smelt like Terry, or that soap his mum gets anyway. Plus I'd sucked Terry's cock before – I'd been his slave for his birthday after all – so I knew not just what it smelt like but what it tasted like to and this was deffo Terry's cock.

It was a perfect fit for my mouth. Just long enough to reach all the way to the back, but not so long as to get stuck in my throat even when my nose was right up in his pubes. Not that Terry had that much pubes, but there was enough to tickle my nose as he shoved himself into my mouth until his nuts were bouncing around on my chin.

Like I said, this wasn't the first time I'd sucked Terry, so once he was in place I knew just what to do, and got to it although I did have to wait until he'd pulled it out a bit so that my tongue had room to do it's thing while he stood there doing nothing but holding onto my head as if I wasn't already unable to move.

"Oh god!" I soon had my mate groaning as I worked on his cock like a good chained up slave should. Oddly I never gave one thought to what Jackson was up to while I was sucking Terry off, until I felt his hand on my bum.

It was oddly slippy which felt kind of good where I'd been spanked, but he wasn't doing it for that reason as if he had been then he'd have no reason to by spreading my buttocks apart and fingering my hole, as I hadn't been spanked there.

Course I knew what he was doing. He was getting me ready for a fucking, and I wasn't totally against the idea. Me and Terry had already done that of course, only we hadn't known about doing the fingering first to get my hole opened up, or using any lube. Thankfully Terry's cock wasn't as big back then as it was now, so it hadn't hurt too much going in, or when he'd been shagging me. Jackson though, clearly knew about both, cos it wasn't long before his finger was right up my bum all the way to the palm, and let me tell you this, despite being short, Jackson's got a really long forefinger.

From my point of view, Jackson could have got me off easy just from using his finger, but that wasn't what he had in mind as the finger was soon out of my now slippy bum and something else was going in instead.

It was long, very hard, and rather fatter than Terry's cock was, but it went in just as easily. All the way in too. Terry's cock was a little over five inches [13 cm] long, much like my own, but this was more. Quite a bit more, by the feel of it pushing deep inside me which is strange as despite the cliche the tent we'd often seen in Jackson's trackies never appeared to be all that big. Quite small in fact for a kid our age in fact. This though certainly was anything but small, so perhaps the cliches are right after all.

On and on it went. Jackson pushing it forwards a little bit then pulling it back a touch and then shoving it in a little bit deeper. Somehow he even managed to twist it around from time to time, as he sought the route of least obstruction to get it all rammed all the way up my bum.

Before long I had balls knocking against my chin, as my mouth worked on Terry's cock, and similar pressed up against my bum, where Jackson was doing his thing up my arse. And I couldn't have been any hornier, or happy.

Then the vibrating started.

In my bum they were. Shivering and shaking. Moving side to side, and even a little in and out like no boy's cock had ever done to a point that I realised that what Jackson had put up my arse wasn't his cock but some sort of dildo or vibrator, or some such sex toy the likes of which I'd only heard about before but which was now pretty much driving me out of my mind faster than triple maths homework.

I got the squirts then. Not once. Not even twice but must have been three times and there wasn't any break in between them. Just squirt, squirt, squirt. Just like that. Cum was shooting out of my cock even though no one was even anywhere near it. The first lot going all over the pallet, then as my cock got bounced around, the second got splashed up my body, while the third got sort of machine gunned right across the front of the pallet, somehow managing to get all over both my hands and over Terry's brand new trainers. Not that he noticed as he was squirting his stuff right down my throat.

Terry only squirted once, but it was loads, and given I'd just gone off myself it was tricky for me to swallow it all but I managed it. Just about although I think I did dribble a bit, not that anyone would notice given how much stuff there already was on the pallet.

That was it. Or at least it should have been, but Jackson wasn't done yet. Well he wasn't done at all cos once Terry had taken the blindfold of me, I saw that Jackson wasn't even naked. Okay so Terry wasn't neither. Not totally. He just had his jeans and boxers round his ankles but with his shirt tucked up all his important bits were on show while none of Jackson's were although he did have his usual trackie tent but that was it.

"Ain't you going to get off Jack?" Terry asked him which was just as well seeing that I couldn't. Not with Terry's cock still in my mouth.

"Nope!" he said. "Not yet!"

Which was the first idea I had that my birthday fun wasn't quite over yet. that the massive fake cock Jackson was holding in his hands, and the strange grin on his face.

The End