While they were drinking at the pub the topic of conversation had somehow changed from last night’s football match to talk of kidnapping and being kept prisoner.
It had come about because a couple of his mates were gay (he’d known them for years, it had never been a problem) and they were saying how they like to kidnap David Beckham and keep him prisoner for a few days. Marcus had said there was no way they could abduct Beckham without anyone seeing.
His two mates, Martin and Adam, had glanced at each other and said they’d got methods which would work.
Marcus, who’d had a couple too many drinks at this point, had challenged them and said they couldn’t do it.
Once again Martin glanced at Adam. Adam followed up Marcus’s challenge by saying maybe not but perhaps they’d be able to kidnap Marcus with little or no fuss and keep him prisoner for a while.
Marcus – drunk, obviously – had said okay. He was off work for the next couple of weeks. If they could kidnap him at any point in the next fortnight then they could keep him prisoner for any length of time up to the point he was due to go back to work.
Twenty minutes later and Adam had come up with a written agreement. This is what it said:-
I, Marcus *******, do hereby agree that should I be kidnapped at any point in the next 14 days then I give my permission for Martin ******* and Adam ******* to take complete control of my life and movement up until such a time as I have to return to work. I give my consent for anything to happen to my body during the period of my captivity providing it does not cause any kind of permanent harm.
By this point Marcus was too drunk to care and had almost forgotten what they were talking about. If he’d have been sober there was no way he would have agreed to the last sentence. Nevertheless, he signed the agreement.
And so it had come about that at pub closing time Marcus had found himself wandering home on his own. He’d started to sober up but still swayed a little as he made his way home. He was hoping his girlfriend would be there but they’d argued earlier on in the day and she’d gone to stay with a friend.
It was dark in the park. No-one else was around. Marcus took a piss up a nearby tree and was just fastening his trousers up when he heard a sudden commotion in the bush beside him. Dark shapes jumped out from the tree and grabbed him. He was too slow to react. An arm reached round his head and placed a cloth over his mouth. He had no choice but to breathe in the strange chemical smell.
The struggle was brief and quiet. Marcus’s senses dulled and his body felt heavy. He felt himself being dragged through the bushes and into the back of a nearby van. The doors were quietly closed.
Marcus was pushed down, face forward, onto the floor. He felt his arms being pulled behind him and handcuffs being locked tightly onto his wrists. He tried to struggle but his body wouldn’t do as it was asked. He felt more cuffs being locked around each ankle. His ankles were then pulled up behind his back and he felt the tug of a chain connecting his ankles and wrist cuffs.
‘Don’t gag him, he’s still drunk. Wouldn’t be good for us if he choked on his own vomit, would it?’ he heard a familiar voice say.
‘No, we can gag him later. He doesn’t know what he’s let himself in for, does he?’ another voice replied.
‘Naah! But this is gonna be fun! Two whole weeks, he’s not gonna know what’s hit him’.
Everything went black as a hood was pulled over his head. And then…he passed out.
Marcus woke up with the smell of rubber in his nostrils. Strange.
He recognised that familiar sense of dehydration which normally followed a night’s drinking. He needed water. He also needed a piss.
This wasn’t right, though.
All at once a multitude of sensations hit him all at once. Something rubbery and skintight covering his entire head, was that a ball filling his mouth? He felt straps tightly fastened round his neck and over the top of his head.
He couldn’t get up. He could barely move. He seemed to be lying back in some kind of reclining chair. He wrists were pulled behind the chair and he felt handcuffs digging into his wrists.
He started to remember…something about a kidnap…
He felt panic in his gut.
Around his upper arms, chest and waist, he felt chains digging into his flesh and keeping him firmly fixed to the chair. He also felt chains riding up his butt and passing either side his meat and potatoes, pulled far too tight. This wasn’t right. This couldn’t be happening.
His ankles were stretched far apart and it felt to him as if there were some kind of bar keeping them wide. He felt more chains around each ankle.
And what was he wearing? Whatever it was clung to him like a second skin. It felt like a t-shirt and some kind of shorts. But these shorts were unlike anything he was used to. They were so tight it hurt. Tight and rubbery.
There was a numb sensation in his balls. Almost painful. He had the sensation of something metal locked round the base of his balls and dick.
Marcus lay there, gathering himself. Slowly his memory started to return. He knew what had happened. He knew why he was here. But this was far more than he’d expected. He’d expected to be tied up with a few pieces of rope and then let loose after a few hours. Bit of a laugh, something to joke about. He’d actually enjoyed a few tie up experiences with a mate when he was a teenager. But this…
He tried to call out.
There was no way he could say anything intelligent. This couldn’t be happening.
Gradually he started to panic. It was the skintight rubber hood which did it. The feeling of claustrophobia. He started to struggle, pulling on his metal restraints. But he couldn’t get loose. He was scared.
And then it started to happen. The feeling of helplessness. The chains. The tight rubber hood. The sense of total captivity. The skintight rubber shorts squeezing his dick and balls. He felt himself going hard.
Shit! It hurt. He couldn’t believe what was happening. What had he let himself in for?
‘We knew it!’ a voice suddenly called out. Marcus froze.
‘Here’s where the fun begins…’