Captive of my Teenaged Cousin V HS Years III

Postby Jason Toddman » Sun Oct 02, 2011 11:39 am

This is continuation of my story that left off here
viewtopic.php?f=39&t=10119

TRANSITIONS (Part 2)


A couple of weeks after I met Carlos, and a week before school vacation ended for the summer, there was a second TUG event involving him that was even more interesting than the first. As before, this one began with an unexpected visit by George while I was alone in the house and, once again, drawing my TUG comic books.

It was only a little past ten in the morning. I was drawing another picture and absorbed in the details; this one was of a naked boy I named Jose (resembling Carlos, purely coincidentally, as closely as I could manage) kneeling on another boy named Jamison (who wore glasses and just by coincidence looked a bit like me) and preparing to… umm… give “Jamison” a shower of sorts. I was just starting to draw the liquid when Blackie abruptly ran down the stairs and started barking vigorously at the front door.

My hearing was almost as keen as Blackie’s, and I immediately heard the sounds of a bicycle riding into the driveway and was already peering through my open window. Glancing down, I saw George riding in. Putting away the comic book I was drawing, I hurried downstairs to greet him at the door.

I was hoping that George wanted to play a TUG. I hadn’t had one since the incident with Carlos and I was more than ready for another.

This had turned out to be a less interesting summer than the previous one; most importantly, there had been far fewer visitors than I’d become accustomed to. In fact, at this point, some of my friends had either slipped out of my life entirely or were around only occasionally.

Walter and Ichiro remained friendly enough, but they were much too busy to socialize with a younger boy like me these days. They were focused on planning for college and they’d also taken summer jobs working at farms. There was no time for TUGs.

Randy was occupied most days at a summer job in a grocery store and he spent his nights on dates with girlfriends (he had many of them in his high school years, though none seemed to last for long) or staying home with his mother and brother.

I tried inviting Randy, Walter, Ichiro, and others to sleepovers, and I tried to make it clear that I wouldn’t refuse an invitation of this type myself. However, I was told bluntly more than once that “sleepovers are for kids”. Other approaches failed as well.

My cousins and friends didn’t like me less than before, but they were clearly developing new interests that didn’t involve my spending much time with them anymore.

It wasn’t all one thing or another. For example, David and his brothers Michael and Brian were away for most of August with their parents on vacation in Hawaii; there wasn’t much to be done about that.

And Ron and *his* brothers Kevin and Corey were busy helping with the kennel that their parents ran. The business had recently expanded and all three boys needed to contribute time on a regular basis.

Gary had graduated from high school, like Walter, and had enlisted in the Navy in July. I only saw him occasionally after that, when he was home on leave. His younger brother Gordon was around but usually hung out with kids closer to his age; Josh and Craig, in particular. Sometimes the kids’ parents asked me to come over and keep an eye on them; but we rarely got around to playing TUGs on these occasions. Even when TUGs entered the picture, they were brief and not especially memorable.

Al was away at a summer camp somewhere. The only time I saw him all summer was on the expedition with the Boy Scouts.

Sho was spending most of his social time exclusively with J.J. Sho and I were still friends but we no longer played TUGs with each other. His younger brother Jirou was spending time with some boys his age who I didn’t know; I’m not sure if TUGs were included in their activities or not. As I now lived about three miles from Sho and Jirou (instead of one like before), visiting them was more complicated than it used to be anyway.

Even George and Morgan didn’t come by very often. I felt too awkward about my break-up with their older sister Julia to visit them myself much at first. I missed them and considered visiting them several times, but I couldn’t seem to work up the nerve. I thought about visiting Carlos instead to firm up our bonds (so to speak) of friendship, but since I’d have needed to go by Julia’s house, I put it off.

I didn’t visit Tom – or Fred, who spent much of his time with Tom – for the same reason. The only time I saw those two in August was when they happened to be riding by with their parents in a car while I was outside and they gave me a quick wave and a shouted hello as they went past.

I didn’t even have Stevie, who had started to seem closer. Stevie didn’t come by very often and I was too much older than he was to visit him instead. To complicate things, Stevie and Matt were now old enough to be trusted alone in the house when Stevie’s mother was out, so there was no need for me to visit for the purpose of keeping an eye on them. I’d probably have been welcome at their house regardless, but it simply didn’t happen; I didn’t see either of them much during this period.

Julia was probably a bigger factor than I’ve said. I think one reason I didn’t make more of an effort to visit my friends, or to encourage them to visit me, was that the breakup had hit me harder than I realized at the time.

I *wanted* to see people, but I was less sociable for a while. This may be part of the reason no one came to see me. Either way, it was the driest social spell I’d had since I’d moved to the area and was the start of a period where I’d spend less time with my friends than I used to – and much less time playing TUGs too, unfortunately.

So when I saw George outside, I greeted him like I’d been marooned on a desert island by myself for half my life and he’d come with a boat to take me back to civilization. Blackie greeted him even more exuberantly, but then Blackie greeted everyone he knew that way – perhaps in the hopes of getting petted, as he usually was.

“Long time no see,” George told me as I escorted him back into the house and, as it was a hot day already, offered him something cold to drink.

“How come you never come by anymore?” he asked me as I poured him some of an ice tea and lemonade mix Mom had made for me.

I thought the answer was obvious, but I replied simply and honestly. “I’d feel awkward around Julia,” I said, perhaps more mournfully than I intended.

“Yeah, I figured,” George told me as he drank his juice. “But she’s gone to Grandma’s all day today. So how about coming back to the house with me? Morgan’s home, and he and I can tie you up and make you feel better! How about it?”

“Okay!” I said at once. When it came to TUGs, I didn’t need much persuasion. “I’ll go get my bike…”

“Wait,” George said suddenly. “Before we go, can we take some of those comic books you draw with us? Morgan hasn’t seen most of them yet, and if we have those to look at, maybe he’ll try some new stuff.”

I quirked an eyebrow at George. “Are you sure that’s a good idea?” I asked him. “You know the reason I haven’t let Morgan see most of my stuff. It’s… X-rated!” I finished lamely. After all, Morgan was older by then than *I* had been when I’d first started to draw the things! “Do you think he’d want to start doing *that* kind of stuff now? You told me that he’s never showed much interest in it before.”

“He is now,” George told me. “Hell, he’s already older than *I* was when I started doing that sort of thing. He’s certainly old enough to know about it, and I think he already knows that *I’ve* been doing it with you. So let’s let him see it – just in your drawings. Then if he wants to talk about it he can.”

I wasn’t sure about George’s logic, but I didn’t argue. The idea of playing the same kind of games with Morgan that I’d played with George was an appealing one. Morgan was 14 now and every bit as athletically fit and good-looking as his brother had been at that age. The idea of having him and his brother playing *those* kinds of games together with me stole away all my good sense, and I dug some of my newer (and better) self-drawn comic books – including the one I’d been drawing a few minutes before – out of their hiding place and packed them in a knapsack to take along.

Despite having cousins like Walter and Randy, I was still amazingly gullible in those days.

George and I rode our bikes back to his house in companionable silence, followed by my dog Blackie. Then, about the time we reached George’s house, it occurred to me to ask him, “So how is Carlos doing these days?”

“Pretty good,” George relied casually as we put out bikes into his family garage. “He’s come by a few times. We’ve played some hoops together. He’s asked about you, too.”

“Really?” I asked, pleased and uncertain at the same time.

“Sure,” replied George. “He’s really sorry about the misunderstanding and wants to get to know you better.”

“Yeah? I hope to get to know him better too,” I replied with a grin.

“I’m sure you will,” George told me in a tone and with a smile that together should have set alarm bells ringing in my head as we went into the house and proceeded to his room. We left Blackie outside, contentedly chewing on a bone we’d brought for him.

Morgan, dressed in nothing more than gym shorts, came out into the hallway from his room to meet us as we approached, carefully shutting the door to his room behind him as he did. I thought I heard a muffled sound coming from his room at the time, but they were both talking to me with evident excitement and they hurried me into George’s room before I could think. Then they had me take off my own shirt, shoes, and socks as George dug a set of handcuffs and leg manacles out of the chest (the one I’d found myself locked inside in earlier days) to place on me.

I thought George might chain me to his bed in a spread-eagle to immobilize me, but instead he cuffed my hands in front of me while Morgan clapped the leg irons on my feet without tethering me to anything. This was unusual but not unheard of; after all, I’d be hard put to move around with the two of them sitting on top of me anyway… although I remember thinking that cuffing my hands in back of me rather than in front would have been much more effective.

But they didn’t lay me down on the bed. Instead, they stuffed my mouth with a small apple, gagged me with duct tape, and blindfolded me with my own shirt. Then they had me stand up and began to walk me *away* from the bed.

“Where are we going?” I asked (or tried to ask) in some surprise. It didn’t come out very clearly, but under the circumstances, it was easy for the others to figure out what I was asking.

“We’ve got a surprise for you!” George said with a mischievous laugh. “Come with us. We’ll hold on to you.”

They led me out of George’s room and back down the hall. For a few seconds I thought they were taking me to Julia’s room. I thought (with a surge of giddiness) that maybe she was secretly at home, hiding in her room, waiting for me. Maybe we were going to do things again.

But then I was stopped in front of Morgan’s room (I could tell because of the distance; Julia’s room was much further away) and I heard the door re-open. Once again I heard muffled sounds from within, and then my two friends/captors led me inside.

What the Hell? Surely they didn’t have Julia tied up in here!?

No, they wouldn’t do that to Julia, and probably couldn’t; it would have been the other way around. But who…?

Had they tied up Tom or one of our other mutual friends without telling me first? If so, I couldn’t tell by the muffled noises who it was. As far as I knew, it could have been anybody.

Abruptly, the muffled sounds stopped. I wondered if I’d really heard them at all.

I made muffled sounds of inquiry of my own, but one of the others hand-gagged me (even though I was already gagged to some extent) and shushed me. I quieted down, which caused George to laugh quietly for reasons I didn’t understand at the time, and the two of them led me over to Morgan’s bed. The muffled noises I’d been hearing didn’t return. I attributed them to imagination and forgot about them.

I felt the side of Morgan’s bed as my shins brushed against it gently. My escort (I wasn’t sure who it was) then turned me around and had me sit down on the edge nearest me. One of the boys then grabbed my feet and swung them up onto the twin-sized bed and I felt the others’ hands pushing against my front to make me lie down.

I lay there with a thrill of anticipation as one of the brothers grasped my wrists, placed it against the head of the bed, and used some rope to tie the connecting chain to the bedframe (Morgan’s bed didn’t have a headboard or a railing to tie a guest’s limbs to). The other brother did the same with my feet. Within a minute I was tied to the bed as securely as if welded to it.

Morgan gave a whoop and climbed onto my belly, while George climbed on top of me a moment later and straddled my chest. I’d hoped they’d take the blindfold off at this point, as it was well-known that I hated not being able to see people when they were sitting on me. But no one did so, even when I started trying to make the request to so through my gag. But all I got for my trouble was a few giggles from Morgan and a few nose flicks from George.

“Are you comfortable, Jason?” George asked me kindly.

I nodded my head in the affirmative, but still tried to talk through the gag. “No talking, Jason!” George said to me sternly as he flicked my nose again. “We’ll do all the talking! Any time we ask you a question, you just nod your head for ‘yes’ and shake your head for ‘no’! Got it?” He kept flicking my nose every couple of seconds as he was saying all this.

I nodded my head without making any further attempt to speak verbally.

“Did you miss us, Jason?” Morgan asked.

I nodded my head vigorously.

“You miss getting tied up?” he asked with a giggle.

I nodded again.

“And sat on?” he asked me immediately.

I nodded even more vigorously; what kind of dopey question was *that*?

“And tortured?” Morgan continued.

Once again I nodded; not in the least bit suspicious of being asked such ridiculous questions. I simply assumed it was a prelude to our usual kind of fun.

“Want me to bounce on your gut again?” he asked me.

I nodded so eagerly I almost gave myself whiplash. Morgan giggled again, and immediately started to bounce on me. Not very hard as, with the three of us on his bed, the bedframe was already starting to make stressed-sounding creaking noises. But hard enough to be enjoyable.

“Want me to squeeze your head?” George asked me then.

I nodded even harder, as if was trying to shake my head off my shoulders. George then obligingly knelt down, clasped my face between his muscular thighs, and began to put on the pressure! Blindfolded or not, I was in a state of pure bliss! I moaned loudly in obvious pleasure, which elicited some quiet laughter from both of the others.

“Want me to tickle you?” Morgan asked me as he stopped bouncing on me and climbed off.

This time I tried to shake my head in the negative; I did *not* want to be tickled! But George’s thighs clamped down on my head so hard I couldn’t turn it! I tried to say ‘no’ verbally through my gag instead. But that made no difference, as I found out when I felt fingertips brush against the undersides of my unprotected and helplessly bound feet.

“Eeeeee! EEEEEEE!” I screamed into my gag while I convulsed like I was having an epileptic seizure. Morgan continued relentlessly anyway as I laughed hysterically into my gag and thrashed around like a madman. George had no trouble staying seated on my chest however, and clamped my head between his thighs even more tightly than ever as if it helped him to hold on. “EEEEEE! EEEEEE! HEHEHEHEHEHE! EEEEEE! EEEEE!” I continued shrieking.

After several minutes of this Morgan finally relented. He got up and I heard him walk to the far side of his room and do something inside his closet; I could even hear the distinctive sound of coat hangers hanging on the bar being brushed casually aside. I then heard what sounded like a sigh of relief and then an odd shushing sound… but George was squeezing my face hard between his thighs again and this made me cease to care about anything else for the time being.

“How was that?” George asked me as he removed my gag at long last, but leaving my blindfold in place. “Want me to do that again? Or would you rather have Morgan tickle you some more?”

“Oh God, please don’t!” I pleaded quickly as I happily sucked in some air through my mouth, but my tone of voice was obviously far from outraged. “You know how ticklish I am!”

“I should, after all this time,” George replied casually. “Wow! How many times have Morgan and I tied you up now, anyway?”

“Christ, I don’t know!” I answered semi-breathlessly; still tired from laughing and from being gagged for so long. “Over fifty times by now, easy! Maybe even a hundred.” I replied after a short pause while, at the same time, I heard Morgan return from whatever errand he was doing and sit back down on my belly.

“Ever get tired of being tied up… or being sat on?” George asked me in a tone I should have found to be suspicious. Perhaps I would have if he wasn’t squeezing my head between his thighs again like he’d offered; rubbing them together and up and down with exaggerated motions. At that point it wasn’t my head that I was thinking with!

“Of course not!” I replied with a tone of satisfaction as I felt a hard-on pitching a tent in the front of my shorts.

“Think you’d enjoy it if Carlos was doing this to you?” George asked blandly.

“Sure!” I replied without hesitation.

“Jesus Christ! He’s getting a boner!” I heard Carlos’ voice exclaim from the far side of the room… followed by gently teasing laughter!

“Jesus!” I unconsciously echoed Carlos with a much louder and much less relaxed tone of voice. WTF?! What was he doing in the room with us?! How long had he been there? Oh God… how much of that conversation had he heard?!!

“All of it, of course!” a voice told me inside my head. “You never learn, do you? This is another setup!”

With a snort of laughter, George quite squeezing my face and spread his thighs apart so he could take the blindfold off of me. I looked over in panic toward where I had heard Carlos’ voice.

He was standing inside of Morgan’s closet. Like the rest of us, he was wearing only a set of shorts. There was a loosened gag tied around his neck; he’d evidently been gagged until very recently. He was also wearing a set of handcuffs on his wrists, which kept them trapped suspended over his head against a makeshift hook that hung from the closet’s ceiling. He wasn’t dangling or even standing on tip-toe, but it was obvious he couldn’t move more than a few inches in any direction. Despite this, he seemed more fascinated by what he’d been witnessing than upset about his own captivity.

On the other hand I was getting *very* upset; Morgan and George had apparently set me up to make me admit my true feelings about being tied up… about being sat on… about Carlos... right in front of Carlos! I felt so mortified at that moment that I wanted to die. A moment later I felt like it was George and Morgan whom I wanted to die!

“How could you do this?” I whispered to them with an accusing stare.

George just winked at me and whispered “Trust me!”

Before I could pursue the matter, he got off of me, grabbed a set of keys he’d placed on a dresser, and walked over to where Carlos stood. He unlocked the handcuffs from Carlos’ wrists – leaving the cuffs themselves dangling from the hook they were connected to – and escorted him out. Then, flashing a smile at me, George walked Carlos (who glanced at me with an unreadable expression) out of the room and closed the door behind them, leaving me alone with Morgan.

Before I could say anything, Morgan climbed back onto the bed, straddled my chest, and began squeezing my head between his thighs the same way George had been doing. “Bet you’re wondering what’s going on, aren’t you?” he asked me with unexpected mildness.

I nodded my head without saying anything but I felt more than ready to comment. Or to do more than comment. What Morgan was doing was an obvious ploy to get me calmed down so I’d listen to him without squawking. Did he think it would be that easy?

He did and, of course, he was right. It worked like a charm.

“Well, it’s like this,” Morgan began with what was, I realized later, a well-rehearsed speech. “You know of course that George and I sometimes tie up and tease each other, right? Well, one time about a month ago – right after that Boy Scout trip - we’d gone out to the field behind the barn with some rope for a little fun. We tried calling you to invite you over, but you weren’t home. As usual when it was just the two of us, we tossed a coin to see who’d tie up who. I won, so I tied George up lying down between two fence posts, sat on his chest, and began playing with him like usual.”

From my point of view, Morgan had *lost* the coin-toss, but I kept my silence.

“We didn’t know that Carlos’ family had just moved into the old McClellan place. But they had, and Carlos picked that day to go exploring. There’s an old logging trail that runs past our farm and goes down to his. He was walking on it to see where it went while we were playing, and he saw us when he came close; but he’d come quietly and was hidden behind some trees. He watched me tie up George and torment him for a while before we knew he was there.”

“He told us later that he was puzzled at first. If George had been on top of me or somebody like Tom, Carlos might have figured George was a bully and maybe done something about it. But seeing that it was the older kid who was tied up, and that he wasn’t making a fuss either, Carlos didn’t know what to make of it! So he just watched us.”

“Finally though, George noticed he was there and called him over friendly-like. So did I, once I got over being surprised. Carlos seemed cautious, but I guess his curiosity got the better of him and he came right up to us. I remember Tom caught Kevin and Corey tying up their older brother Ron out in the woods near their house, and realized this was the same. So we told him it was just for fun and that we did it sometimes. Then, once he knew I wasn’t going to try doing it to *him*, we invited Carlos to help me torment George!”

“Carlos wasn’t sure at first, even though George was the one on the bottom and asked him to join in. But he said yes after a while. At first he just sat on George and watched as I teased George and slapped his face. George laughed and asked Carlos if he could slap him harder than I did. We made it a friendly contest, and that made Carlos relaxed enough that he went ahead and slapped George too. He didn’t do it hard at first but after a while he did it as hard as I did. Then he knew he could do whatever he wanted to and he got more interested and started doing other things.”

“A few days later he came by and asked us about what we’d been doing. We could tell he wanted to play a tie-up again, so… even though we had planned to go visit you that day (sorry), we decided to give him a chance. It was George who got tied up again. We’d decided seeing me get tormented by George might have bothered Carlos, since George is so much bigger than either of us. But that only made having George be the one who got tied up and tortured even more fun. And this time, we invited Carlos to come over whenever he wanted.”

“So he came again a day or two later, and this time he tied up George himself after I showed him how to do it. Then, to make things interesting, I invited him to tie *me* up too! He was really surprised by that, but he was happy. He kept us tied up out in the barn for three hours and even had us practically begging for mercy before he was done.”

“Up to then, I think he was worried that we’d want him to take a turn being tied up too. But when we didn’t even hint about it even after we let him tie the both of us up, he got curious. So a few days later when he came by, he actually *asked* us to tie him up – once we told him we wouldn’t torment him any further than he could take! So we tied him up good and tight, but we didn’t torment him like he’d done to us or we’d done to each other. Just a few nose flicks and leaving him tied up alone in the barn for a while; just to let him know he could trust us not to do more than he asked us to.”

“Next day he was back and asked us to do more. So we did. And then a few days later he came by again. That was when you showed up like we’d arranged. He’d just finished talking about maybe doing it when you showed up… which was why he was annoyed about seeing you and I guess you were annoyed too. It was funny; you were both mad for the same reason and neither of you knew it! And before we could try introducing you two and seeing if we could do it with all four of us, the fight broke out!”

“After you left and we couldn’t calm him down, well… we simply did what he asked before and tied him up again! After that, we came up with the idea of having you two meet more peacefully. It worked too, didn’t it?” he added with a grin.

“I thought George said Carlos had put up a fight,” I replied with a note of accusation.

“Well, that was just to make Carlos feel better, you know?” Morgan replied casually as he sat back onto my belly and started giving me what we called “tit twisters”. “After all, he was already embarrassed enough.”

Suddenly I remembered about what George had hinted about Morgan maybe being interested in new things, and tried to find a way to ask about it. I probably wasn‘t clear but Morgan got the idea.

“Is *that* what George said to get you here?” Morgan asked me with evident chagrin. “Aw man. I’m gonna have to have a talk with him! That really wasn’t fair to either of us!”

“It’s not true then?” I asked with obvious disappointment.

“Sorry Jason, but… no,” Morgan told me kindly. “Oh, I know you and Julia did it, and that even George and you did it, but… well, I don’t think I want to do that. The other stuff, sure. But not that. Sorry!”

He shrugged.

“It’s okay,” I replied with more grace in my voice than I felt in my heart. “I wouldn’t want you to do anything you’d be uncomfortable with. But then why did George ask me to bring the comic books I drew?”

“I dunno.” Morgan told me. “I didn’t even know about them until now. The new ones, anyway. I knew about those science-fiction ones you drew when you were a kid. I think I might like to look at the new ones, though. Just to see what you draw.”

I shrugged myself (or at least as well as I could with my arms chained up above me). Who could say? Maybe it would lead somewhere.

“So what’s the deal with Carlos now?” I asked with some annoyance when I realized Morgan had almost succeeded in making me forget my original grievance.

“Well, we figured if Carlos could see how at ease *you* are about being tied up, he’d get to like you better and might be interested in playing TUGs with you himself,” Morgan replied with a grin.

“George was pretty sure you liked Carlos even after he hit you, so he set this whole thing up. We tied Carlos in the closet and gagged him, but didn’t tell him you were coming. But he managed to keep mostly quiet while he listened to us talk. We didn’t want to tell you he was there so you wouldn’t be nervous. So now he’ll be more relaxed about having you around.”

George came back into the room around this point, but Carlos was nowhere in sight. “He didn’t get put off by this, did he?” I asked with some chagrin.

“Naw, he just had to go home and… umm… catch up on some things for a while,” George told me casually. “He’ll be back after lunch. Meanwhile, it’s just you and us!”

I then endured an hour or so of pure tickle-torture. Afterward George and Morgan fed me lunch in bed in the usual style; with me still handcuffed to the bed and the two of them straddling me while they fed me sandwiches and chips and gave me some diet soda to drink. Then I faced a second hour of almost unrelenting tickle torture. By the end of it I was nearly exhausted from laughing myself hoarse! They finally stopped when I swore I was on the verge of wetting myself.

Their answer to this was to free me from the bed, re-cuff my hands in front of me, leave me hobbled, walk me to the bathroom, and give me two minutes to take care of vital business. Once I’d used up my “ammo”, I was led back to the bed where I was assured that even more relentless tickling would ensue now that the possibility of my wetting Morgan's bed had been eliminated.

Before they got well started on a third hour of tickle torturing me, though, the phone rang. George answered it, talked briefly, hung up, and announced that company was coming soon. It’d be impractical to continue our games at George’s and Morgan’s house, but they both offered to continue if we went to my house. There was no hurry, so we’d use the trail that ran through the woods past their house and mine, and no one would see us from the road or from the few houses located on the way. This meant they’d be able to keep me tied up the entire time they escorted me back home.

I’d been walked through the woods this way more than once before, and it had worked out fine, so I readily agreed.

I was let up from the bed again, re-hobbled, and re-cuffed. But this time my hands were cuffed behind me instead of in front, a collar and leash were placed on me, and I was gagged the same way as before (I think with the same apple used as stuffing). Then, once we were out of their house, I was blind-folded as well. I tried to protest the last part, but my muffled noises were simply ignored. They assured me, though, that they wouldn’t let me trip or stumble. Then they led me along as fast I could go under the circumstances. Blackie ambled along behind us, not at all bothered by the sight of me being led along on a leash like another dog.

We’d just gotten out of sight of their house and reached the trail that connected our houses (and the same one that ran to Carlos’ house) when Blackie began barking at something ahead of us and ran off. A moment later, George called out, “Here he is. He’s all yours!” I couldn’t see whoever he was talking to, but I heard someone approaching us from the direction Blackie had gone. I could also hear Blackie playfully yipping and running all around, probably trying to get whoever it was to pet him. I mmphed in alarm; what was going on?

“Don’t worry, Jason… I promise to be gentle,” Carlos told me with an evil-sounding laugh. “Say, that hobble is too good for him. Here, use this.”

“This” was a length of rope, which was used to tie my ankles firmly together once the hobbles were removed. Now I couldn’t walk at all; I could only waddle… or hop along like a bunny.

I protested even more vigorously through my gag; making me hop along this rugged trail while I was blindfolded?! Are you people *insane*?!

I couldn’t make my words very clear. However, either they listened to me (despite pretending otherwise) and got the gist of my complaint or they decided on their own that such a thing was too likely to get me hurt. In any case, Carlos removed my blindfold himself. My wrists were also re-cuffed in front of me so that I’d have better balance and could catch myself if I fell over. Carlos carried my knapsack for me. I hadn’t brought it from George and Morgan’s house, but apparently one of them had brought it.

I found out later that Carlos was the one who’d phoned before; he and George had set up this rendezvous and his phone call had been to announce he was leaving home to meet us along the trail. What sneaky bastards, I thought to myself. Just like my cousins!

George and Morgan handed the other end of my leash to Carlos, waved a cheery farewell to us both, and walked back home, leaving me to the tender mercies of Carlos.

Well, Blackie was with me, but he wasn’t much help. He simply went to and fro sniffing at everything that aroused his interest and paid little attention to us other than to stay in our general vicinity. I couldn’t have told Blackie to “sic him” or anything like that while I was gagged, and he didn’t seem to feel that Carlos was any kind of threat. From his point of view, this was simply a fun walk.

Well, I’d not so secretly wanted this. Now I had it!

“Let’s go, boy,” Carlos said, talking to me like I was a dog while tugging on my leash. “It’s time to take you home.”

Seeing no real option but to go along, I began hopping along after him.

That half-mile trip home was one of the longest half-miles I’ve ever experienced! Being forced to hop the entire way was as tiring as anything I’d done in the past. Fortunately, Carlos allowed me frequent breaks; the trip took us more than an hour, much of which was spent resting. But I was as exhausted by the end of it as if I’d run the Boston Marathon!

It was about three in the afternoon by the time we arrived, and there were about two hours to go before my mother would normally return home. However, there was more time today. She was going on a date with Bob and wouldn’t be home until well past 10:00 pm. She’d fixed some sandwiches for me to have for lunch (still uneaten as I hadn’t been home), and there were some TV dinners I could choose among for my supper; so I wasn’t going to go hungry and now, apparently, I wasn’t going to be bored either.

Carlos made me hop all the way to my front door (which thankfully was not clearly visible from the road that time of year because of intervening maple trees) before loosening the ropes binding my ankles so that I could take small steps. He then released my hands to allow me to get the house-keys out of my front pocket. But as soon as I did so, he took my keys, re-cuffed my wrists behind my back, and unlocked the door himself.

We entered the house, Blackie rushing in past us, and Carlos closed the door. Then he marched me like a prisoner up the stairs into my room, led me up to my bed, and gently pushed me down to make me lie on it. He set my keys on my nightstand and, with my knapsack still on his back, climbed onto my bed and straddled me, hands on his hips and grinning down at me. Blackie watched this, and then settled down onto his own little bed to take a nap. He was familiar enough with this routine by now to know that he wouldn’t get petted much under these circumstances.

“So, *this* is what you like, eh amigo?” he asked me with a mischievous grin. By *this* he meant my being sat on; something he hadn’t been doing to George and Morgan – or they to him – since that first time he met them.

I wasn’t sure how to answer that, but since he apparently already knew the answer and still seemed friendly, I nodded my head and made affirmative sounding noises through my gag.

“Boy, I sure had some interesting reading today,” he told me with a huge grin as he pulled my knapsack off, placed it on my chest, opened it up, and calmly took out all the self-drawn comic books I’d placed inside it. Prominently displayed on the very top of the resulting pile was the newest comic book that was devoted to “Jose” and his helpless prisoner.

My eyes bulged with alarm, I moaned miserably, and I flushed crimson with embarrassment. I suddenly realized that when Carlos had left to go home, he’d taken my knapsack full of self-made comic books with him and had spent over two hours reading them. Now he knew everything. I was mortified, and I wondered if he was going to use the knowledge he’d gained to blackmail me or make a laughing stock of me throughout the entire area.

I began to make plans to assassinate George and Morgan for betraying me like this.

Carlos leaned forward and pulled my gag off me, and helped me to spit out the apple by pulling it out of my mouth. He carefully placed the drool-covered mass onto my dresser with a patient grimace of distaste. Then he swerved his body around to sit on me sideways and began taking off his shoes and socks.

“You have some very interesting ideas,” he suddenly told me with a mischievous grin.

“I do?” I asked hesitantly.

“Yep!” he said as he dropped his discarded footwear onto the floor. Then he grasped my legs and had me fold them up (as if I was kneeling) with my feet flat on the mattress and tucked up just below my buttocks. “Keep ‘em like that!” he told me. “Don’t make me tie them in place, now. And don’t a muscle anywhere else either. Most especially don’t you dare turn your head, or I’ll wrap you in duct tape like a mummy!!”

I thought that might be fun but did as I was told and kept my legs as he’d placed them and remained as unmoving as possible. Carlos casually leaned over, plucked my glasses off my face, and set them carefully down on my nightstand. Then, with a cat-ate-the-canary smile, he grabbed one of my comic books as if planning to read it, turned until he was leaning upon my propped-up legs like they were the back of his personal couch, and lay back. He then lifted up his own legs so that his entire body weight rested on my belly for a moment, moved his bare feet until they were hovering right over my head, and then carefully planted the soles of his feet right upon my upturned face.

“Don’t turn your head now,” he reminded me as he slowly rubbed his face up and down along both sides of my face. “See? I have some ideas of my own! But now I’m gonna relax and read more of your stuff! I didn’t have time to finish some of them before! You just lay there and be quiet!”

And with that he began reading; using me as his literal La-Z-Boy. For the first time since she met Bob, I was glad that my Mom wouldn’t be coming home until late that night. And I forgot all about seeking revenge on George and Morgan – who were, after all, my best friends in the whole wide world!

Carlos leisurely read one of my comic books while gently rubbing his sweaty feet in my face. Sometimes he’d pause in his reading and move his foot so that my nose was jammed between his big toe and the one next to it – and he’d try pinching my nostrils shut with them. Otherwise he’d simply massage my face with his soles while he read, and I’d be forced to smell them. His feet didn’t smell bad despite having walked for over a mile on a humid day, however.

“What time does your Mom get home?” Carlos suddenly asked me.

“Normally around five, but tonight not until past ten,” I told him truthfully. By this point I no longer wanted to get out of this situation.

“That late?!” Carlos exclaimed. “Shoot! I think I’ll ask my Mom if I can stay over for dinner!” And with that he got off me and rushed downstairs to use the phone - without bothering to ask me if it was okay with me that he stay over a few hours longer than he’d apparently planned.

But I didn’t mind one bit!

Fortunately he was allowed to stay until ten, even though he normally had to be home before it got dark out. He kept me handcuffed in bed the entire time, feeding me one TV dinner while he had another for himself and the rest of the time resting on top of me and either reading, watching a program on my portable TV, or talking with me. I finally got to ask him about that radio telescope in Arecibo, and we spent a lot of time discussing radio astronomy (which he knew even more about than I did).

At one point he went downstairs, where I heard him using the bathroom sink. When he returned, he made me (well, sort of made me) lick his feet, which fortunately he’d just washed. This was something my other friends had rarely had me do; they usually stopped at just rubbing their feet in my face when they used their feet at all.

I feigned more reluctance than I felt, but he realized this and playfully “forced” me to do what he wanted. I finally did so, of course. Afterward, “foot worship” would become a regular part of my TUGs play when I was with Carlos; I think I spent more time doing that with Carlos alone than I did with everyone else combined; he was definitely a foot fetishist.

However, if he liked any of the more intimate ideas I portrayed in my comic books, he showed no interest in acting out any of them. He said he found them interesting, though, and wanted to see more.

Carlos released me from my bonds before he had to leave (George had given him the keys when he turned me over to him) and Blackie and I walked him home. When I walked back home on that dark, quiet road, I was happier than I’d been in a long time. I even passed Julia’s house (it was dark and quiet; everyone at home must have already been asleep) on the way back, picked up my bike where I’d left it that morning, and rode it half of the rest of the way home before it occurred to me to think of her and our breakup.

I realized even then that Carlos had helped me to heal and to move on with my life. You can’t ask more from a friend than that!
Attachments
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Dare to be different... and make a difference.
To boldly go where no one in their right mind has gone before...

Re: Captive of my Teenaged Cousin V HS Years III

Postby lonewolfandfriends » Sun Oct 02, 2011 11:49 am

Good story as always jason

Re: Captive of my Teenaged Cousin V HS Years III

Postby sarumansauron » Sun Oct 02, 2011 7:56 pm

Great story! Thanks!
I love TUGS and TICKLING Torture!!!!!

Re: Captive of my Teenaged Cousin V HS Years III

Postby TUfriend » Mon Oct 03, 2011 11:35 am

So are all these stories from one summer?
Heil Toddman, the Wonderful Wizard of Odd
I'm a nerd with a dangerous side.

See my most recent TRUE story, "SPL Initiation", here.

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Re: Captive of my Teenaged Cousin V HS Years III

Postby Jason Toddman » Mon Oct 03, 2011 12:10 pm

TUfriend wrote:So are all these stories from one summer?

All the stories from the last thread (COMTC IV HS Years II) are, yes. The first story in that one where I visited my grandmother had happened just the previous June. This last story here happened in late August of the same summer - 1972.
The thread before the previous one (HS years I) covers about two years, however (beginning with autumn in 1970), and he first two threads covered the two summers before that.
I only began a new thread here rather than continue the old one because of the archiving... I was afraid newer readers would have trouble finding my stories if I continued them there.
Dare to be different... and make a difference.
To boldly go where no one in their right mind has gone before...