Kevin Doud, the blue-eyed rising star of daytime television groaned in mild discomfort as the ropes binding his slim wrists together behind his back, just below his shoulder blades, were drawn tighter by Magnus. The man stood behind him and smiled as he moved to adjust the bands of rope looped around the boy's chest and biceps effectively pinning his arms to his side, and attached the end of the loose rough looking cord around his wrists, completely preventing Kevin's use of his upper limbs.

"You don't have to do them so tight, this is supposed to be fake, you know," he complained to Magnus, fidgeting as the man's skilled fingers moved to brush against the cool, sensitive skin between his ribs.

"They wanted realism, and I'm giving them realism," Magnus said, continuing to subtly tease the lightly tanned flesh of the trussed up boy with one hand, the other cupping Kevin's reddening cheek possessively, his thumb grazing the purple and yellow bruise near his eye. "One fresh-faced slave-boy, newly caught and ready to be trained by a cruel and unforgiving master."

Kevin squirmed on the spot, defenceless against the man's touch, his breath quickening with mixed excitement and embarrassment. "Stop, you'll… mess up my make-up."

"Oh? Is that all you are worried about happening?" Magnus taunted, leaning closer to the boy's ear so that his hot breath dislodged a curl of long, tangled hair, and it tickled the lobe. "Not about letting out a cute little moan like you did as I touched you yesterday when you were 'practising'? Are you going to beg for more, or for me to stop, or for both again today too?"

"Shut up!" Kevin hissed, nervously looking around in case anyone had overheard their exchange. "I don't want to talk about that here," he complained, glancing around the set to see if the rest of the cast and crew had taken notice of the whispered conversation and Magnus' continued teasing of his body.

"Well, that can be arranged quite easily," Magnus told the boy as he produced a boy-sized, red ball-gag and proceeded to press it against Kevin's lips.

He glared at the man but, after a few moments of resistance, opened his mouth wide and accepted the gag, waiting patiently for it be strapped securely behind his head.

"If only they knew how often I see you like this," Magnus mused as he admired his handiwork. "Or in less than this."

The boy looked like he had been made to play the part; his smooth skin, lithe frame and innocent demeanour accentuated by the expert ropework. In addition to the bindings on Kevin's torso, he had similarly, and quite unnecessarily, tied the boy's legs together at the knees and ankles, fully aware that they would scarcely appear on camera, but knowing it would get the boy into the correct headspace.

"We need Kevin on set, now!" called an assistant, gesturing at Magnus and the bound boy, and pointing to where they should go.

Magnus stooped and effortlessly picked up the slight boy, easing him over one shoulder, a hand on the back of Kevin's left thigh to prevent any forward motion that could result in him falling. The other was above his right hip, ostensibly to stop him from sliding off sideways, but in reality there to be able to rake his fingernails over the prickly skin and make the boy squirm.

With a groan of relief Kevin was set down on the chilly floor and the man ceased his teasing of his exposed body. He wriggled and tried to make himself as comfortable as possible as he leaned against the simulated rough stone bricks of the ersatz cellar his character found himself in.

A make-up artist descended on him once Magnus had retreated to touch up any smudges: lightly dousing him with a water spray to make him look sweatier than he was already feeling; messing up his hair to look even more unkempt than it was usually; adding some more blush to his cheek to make it appear as if he had been crying; touching up his fake bruise from a supposed blow by his captor; and to wave a menthol stick under his eyes to actually make him cry.

He found it hard not to roll his eyes at the contrived and, judging from his time with Magnus, inaccurate portrayal of how a boy becomes a slave. The 'dungeon' in which he was to supposedly be 'tortured' was worlds apart from the clean, well lit, and very well stocked room where he experienced hours of agony and ecstasy–mostly the latter–at the hands of the skilled man.

They had discussed the script when Kevin had received it a week after learning he had got the role and sought out Magnus to help him prepare. The man held the document so that the boy–who was tied and naked, sitting comfortably in his lap–could read it, interjecting with comments and caresses to illustrate the misconceptions and scarce truths in the narrative.

"But why don't they write it like it really is?" he had asked Magnus, squirming against the long bulge pressed between his butt cheeks and trying to avoid the lazy, ticklish swirl of Magnus' finger running around the circumference of his belly button.

"Because it isn't all like this," Magnus told him, fingers leaving the protrusion on the boy's stomach and reaching up to tweak each nipple in turn–harder than usual to prove his point. "Some men do grab boys from the street and keep them locked in their basement to use for their own pleasure, but very rarely. Others buy boys legitimately to use, or to love, depending on their predilections. A few are fortunate enough to have a boy wander into their life, willing to be taken."

"Why can't they do that last one then?" Kevin asked as pain gave way to the pleasure of the man's expert fingers lightly flicking his erect nipples.

"Yeah," the man replied sarcastically. "They would absolutely film and broadcast what I'm doing to you to every home in the country; that totally wouldn't get the show cancelled."

"Anyway, the melodrama of cute boy being kidnapped then rescued, and the moral of 'slavery bad' will get them more ratings," Magnus sighed, continuing in a more cynical tone.

"I don't think slavery is all that bad," Kevin giggled as he looked down at his boy-cock bobbing along to his heartbeat. It had been hard when they had first sat down, got harder with the man's teasing, and peaked when Magnus pinched his nipples, despite the pain of it–or maybe because of it.

* * *

"Action!" called the director, obscured from Kevin's vision by the cameras and lights, bringing him back to the moment.

Kevin's breath caught in the throat as the enormity of his situation dawned on him. Intellectually, he knew what this scene, and all the subsequent ones where he was acting the part of a slave-boy would entail: the bondage; the near nakedness; the close, intimate contact with a man. All of it was about to be recorded, broadcast to the world, and kept forever.

He flinched as a shadow passed over him and a man bore down on him menacingly. A familiar feeling of intoxicating helplessness bubbled up in the pit of his belly, slowly spreading lower to his tingling groin.

"Ah, you're awake," the man leered, moving into the boy's personal space so that they were almost nose-to-nose. "Welcome to your new home."

Kevin whimpered convincingly through his gag and wriggled, trying to put some distance between himself and his co-star. Bumping the back of his head against a padded portion of the set he let out a small, muted gasp of shock.

"Nowhere to run now," the man said, smirking as he rested a hand on Kevin's midriff to hold him in place.

The boy grunted and writhed, trying to dislodge the hand, which unbeknownst to his fellow actor rested on the spot Magnus had meticulously prepared to produce this reaction.

"So pretty like this," the man said, a wolfish grin playing on his lip as he pressed two fingers against the boy's artificial bruise.

Kevin winched in feigned pain, squeezing his eyes shut and trying to turn his head away. He blindly faced the camera and succeeded in summoning a tear to roll down his crimson cheek, convincingly portraying his imitated fear and distress.

"Oh, the things I'm going to do to you, b-boy," the man stammered, losing the hard edge of his voice and his focus as he regarded the length of Kevin's body with artificial lust. "I'm… um… going to… to your… your…"

Kevin frowned as the seasoned actor rambled and averted his gaze.

"Cut!" yelled the director in frustration, glaring at Kevin's co-star. "What is it, Peter?"

"Um… well… it's… you see… he's got…" the man mumbled, looking embarrassed and glancing back towards Kevin's crotch, the entire crew's eyes followed and seemed magnetically drawn to the boy's hard-on tenting his tight white briefs as Peter drew attention to the spectacle.

Kevin's cheeks burned as he tried to mumble apologies through his gag, his wide eyes pleading with his fellow actor to forgive his indiscretion–and more importantly, to stop staring. He knew without looking that Magnus was enjoying the show, revelling in the humiliation of his young charge–which, unhelpfully, fuelled his traitorous boy-cock, pushing it to an even greater hardness.

"It's fine, George," Magnus said, addressing the director as he strode confidently towards the squirming boy. "I'll take Kevin and get this sorted, we'll only be a few minutes."

As Magnus approached, Peter placed a sympathetic hand on Kevin's arm. "Hey, it's all right," he told the boy soothingly. "It happens to all of us, just… um, do what you need to do, and we can try again. Okay?"

"Don't worry, I'll make sure to resolve this little problem," Magnus told Peter as he effortlessly lifted Kevin up from the floor, taking special care to rub the throbbing, underwear clad boy-cock along his own torso as he hoisted him over his shoulder, drawing an embarrassed moan from the fidgeting boy.

* * *

"You're mean," Kevin pouted the instant Magnus removed his gag. "You did all that stuff on purpose so that I'd get a hard-on!"

"Me?" Magnus asked innocently, gently cupping the boy's chin in one of his large hands, lifting the handsome face so that he could stare into Kevin's eyes, and deftly lowering the straining underpants down the boy's hips, giving the now free and bobbing boy-cock a possessive squeeze in the process. "It's not my fault that you're such an insatiable, kinky sex-monkey who gets off on being tied up in a room full of his co-workers."

"Shut up," Kevin muttered, glaring back at the man, clenching his jaw in annoyance. "You could have faked tying me up, and not touched me and made me all sensitive, then this wouldn't have happened," he complained half-heartedly, trying to nod towards his own pulsing boy-cock.

"Oh?" Magnus asked, letting go of Kevin, turning away and leaving the boy stood bound and immobile as he strode towards his rucksack sat on one end of the room's sofa. "So you can honestly say that you didn't have a bondage fetish when you first came to see me?"

He returned a moment later and hooked his finger under one of the loops of rope, deliberately pulling the arrangement tighter against Kevin's skin.

Kevin groaned as his muscles strained under the increased tension, enjoying the ropes hold on him, and how there was barely any give to them now when he took his deep, shuddering, excited breaths.

"That you weren't desperate to have this juicy little morsel between your legs played with, teased and controlled before we met?"

Magnus released the binding, letting his hand drop lazily to the boy's groin, softly stroking the length of the slim, quivering shaft with the tip of the same finger.

The boy flexed his hips, pushing his groin out, trying to maximize his contact with the man's pleasure inducing digit.

"That you don't want me to ravish you, throw you onto this sofa, make you call me 'Sir', and have you scream and moan so loud that the whole building hears just how horny you are?"

He ran his finger around up along Kevin's tight belly and across the boy's hip, over the mound of his buttocks and into the hidden valley between them.

Kevin moaned as the digit tickled the rim of his twitching hole, and wiggled his hips, trying to impale himself on it.

"Maybe you regret signing the contract, and want to be 'free' from all of this… from me?" Magnus questioned, a knowing smirk playing on his lips.

He traced a line along the boy's spine, inching closer to the knot holding Kevin's crossed hands in place. He gently tugged at the knot, threatening to unravel the boy's bonds.

"No, I don't," Kevin whispered.

"Good," the man said as he wrapped an arm around the boy's neck, pulling Kevin into a deep kiss, allowing the boy a second to enjoy the contact.

Magnus maintained a firm grip on Kevin as he smothered a high-pitched squeal of shock and pain with the long and lingering kiss. The icy gel pack he had pressed against the Kevin's rampant boner did its job effectively, forcing the erect three-and-three-quarter-inches [9.5 cm]–a very respectable length for the young twelve-year-old–to shrivel back into dormancy.

"You didn't have to do that," Kevin complained, gasping and shivering as his groin ached from the cold. "You could have just sucked me off for once you know, that would have worked too."

"Yes, it might have worked," Magnus said dismissively, dropping the gel pack, assessing the boy's condition, and finishing up his intended task. "For all of five minutes. This is far more effective."

"Would have felt nice though," the boy pointed out, pouting. "It's probably going to spring back up again once it's warmed up anyway."

"Oh, that was just part one of my solution," the man said as he threw a chain over his head and around his neck, a small and familiar key falling to rest on his chest.

"You didn't!" Kevin exclaimed in alarm, almost toppling from his precarious position as he whipped his head down to look at his cold-numbed genitals.

An inch-and-a half of narrow plastic tubing with a slightly bulbous, slitted end encased his subdued boy-cock, a neat eighth-of-an-inch wide ring tucked behind his grape sized balls held it firmly in place. The sight of the penile prison sent an unbidden pulse of arousal through his young body, reawakening the diminutive boy-cock resting inside it.

"They'll all see it!" Kevin said desperately, glancing at the door to the dressing room, half expecting the crew to be lined up to gawk at him.

"But they've already seen far more," Magus reminded him, caressing the boy's tight ball sack with one hand, and running his fingers through Kevin's dark, sweat-drenched hair lovingly with the other. "You were showing off a truly magnificent erection. I wonder if they've figured it out yet? How much you like–no, love–being tied up? Why you were so eager to play this part? That this 'slave-boy' act isn't an act at all, but who you truly are, who you want to be? That I own you: mind, body, and soul–for now, at least?"

"Don't…" whimpered Kevin as the hot and horny feelings flooded through him, his re-expanded boy-cock constricted by the unyielding confines of its cage as Magnus' fingers slowed their probing.

"Don't, what? Tell me," the man asked, ceasing his ministrations on the boy's taut scrotum.

"Don't… Stop… Please…" the boy begged, trying to grind his inaccessible boy-cock against the man, not caring that his secret could be on the verge of exposure. He just wanted the man's touch, to hear the low, gruff voice commanding him, to obey and be rewarded.

"Such a needy boy," Magnus said as he leaned in to give the boy a light kiss on the lips and tweak one of the boy's protuberant nipples.

Kevin moaned into the man's mouth as the dull throb from his nipples was amplified as it travelled through his chest, down his spine, and into his imprisoned penis, forcing it against the bounds of its inescapable cell.

"Good boy. You deserve a treat," Magnus praised as they parted, and he rested his hands on the boy's shoulders, exerting enough pressure to make Kevin's knees buckle and drop to the floor.

The boy watched in giddy anticipation as the man lowered the fly of his suit and withdrew a thick, six-inch [15 cm] long dick. He closed his eyes and drank in the man's aroma; the salty sweat on the two large balls; the sweet precum forming a bead at the slitted tip; a powerful, intoxicating, spicy, manly scent that made his nostrils flare.

"There you go," Magnus sighed as he slipped his dick into the boy's opening mouth, the heat and velvety softness welcoming and familiar.

Kevin swirled his talented tongue around the shaft, tasting every inch of it, bobbing his head backwards and forwards, pushing the bulbous head towards the back of his mouth. Dutifully, he applied every trick the man had taught him to perform, adding in some of his own devising, eager to please Magnus and receive the man's bounty. He choked a little as he took the dick too deeply, grazing the entrance of his still untrained throat. The man's big hands gripped his head, directing him to ease off, but not releasing him from his task.

"Careful now," Magnus warned softly, running his fingers through the boy's dark mane. "You need to deliver some lines later today; can't have you sounding hoarse."

The boy moaned his acknowledgement, extending the breath so that it reverberated along the pulsing shaft.

"That's a new one," the man commented, smiling at Kevin to show his appreciation of the boy's developing techniques. "Keep doing it, and you might get to know what it feels like for yourself."

Kevin inhaled deeply though his nose as he pulled back, leaving the flared head of Magnus' dick barely contained in his mouth before he swallowed as much of the length as he could, exhaling slowly and humming deeply, hoping that the man would indeed reciprocate sometime in the near future.

After another minute of Kevin's ministrations Magnus stepped back, sliding his still hard dick from the boy's mouth.

"Looks like we're out of time," Magnus told the panting boy, slipping his erection awkwardly back into his pants and rearranging it to not be noticeable to the casual observer. "Seems you'll have to get your treat later."

"Yes, Sir," Kevin said dejectedly as he licked the residue of the man's precum from his lips.

Magnus strapped the ball-gag back into Kevin's mouth, and he could still taste the salty-sweet liquid that had pooled on his tongue and smell the man's scent in his nostril each time he inhaled.

Magnus bent down and deftly hoisted the light boy up from the ground again. As Kevin hung precariously over his shoulder he neatly pulled up the tight underwear, tucking the chastened, pulsing boy-cock tidily away.

* * *

Peter welcomed Kevin back with a sheepish smile and a determined gaze into the boy's eyes as he was lowered into position for the next take.

"Are you okay now?" the man asked kindly when Magnus was out of earshot. "Did you get some… um, 'relief'?"

Kevin nodded twice. Once for the truth, once for a lie.

He was okay, after a fashion. One source of potential interruption and embarrassment had been eliminated, and he knew he had a reward to look forward to. But he still had an almost noticeable bulge in his underwear where the curve of his cage pressed against the tight cloth.

On the other hand, he was far from getting any relief, the cage, and the knowledge that he was wearing it in such proximity to his co-star was driving his horniness to new heights. It felt like his throbbing boy-cock would burst through the confines of both plastic and fabric if Peter so much as breathed in its direction.

But Kevin didn't have much time to ponder his situation though, as the director chose that moment to shout "Action!"

The End