Thank you for all your opinions and comments guys

Here is the next chapter; I hope it'll be to your liking

I was laying in Mr. Thomson’s basement waiting for my neighbor to undo my hogtie. I could hardly believe what was going on; he and his poker buddies decided I would be an award in their game. The winner would simply own me for 24 hours, like I was a slave or something. The more I was thinking about this whole situation, the less I liked it and the more frustrated I became. I couldn’t allow them to put their sick plan into effect, so the moment Mr. Thomson released me from my hogtie, I started to thrash like wild animal and shout through the gag. I wanted to tell him that I didn’t want to be tied any more, tried to ask him to untie, but it all came out as completely unintelligible grunts.
“Stop squirming, kiddo. It’s not gonna work.” He said calmly with his cigar between his teeth.
But I didn’t; the line has been crossed and I was now in rage. Nothing Mr. Thomson would say or do could make me calm down; I was rolling from side to side, wiggling my fingers in a futile attempt to reach any knot, kicking the air with my bound legs and making as much noise as my thick gag would allow.
“Fuck, if you don’ stop, I’ll make it far worse for you.” I heard Mr. Thomson say, but I didn’t pay any attention to him at the moment; I was entirely focused on my attempts to break the bonds free.
“Fucking moron, if you want it the hard way, then so be it.” He said angrily and shouted: “Jeff, Frank! Help me with this little brat here, would you?”
They appeared almost immediately; Jeff was about 190cm tall, well built, short blond hair and blue eyes. He was wearing a casual T-shirt and black jeans with a wide brown belt. He had taken his shoes off, so now he was only in his black ankle socks. And Frank occurred to be the guy in the leather jack; now he also was smoking a cigar.
“It seems he’s changed his mind and doesn’t want to be tied up anymore.” Frank said.
“Doesn’t matter what he wants. When I win this asshole, he’ll regret..” He said in a stern voice.
“You wish…” Mr. Thomson answered and added: “Let’s get this fucker upstairs and strap him to some chair.”
The three of them grabbed me and stood me up; Jeff was holding me by my arms firmly, while Mr. Thomson was untying my legs. I was still shouting into my gag, so Frank came close to me, slapped me painfully in my face and said:
“If you don’t shut your fucking mouth, I’ll make you pay….” He said in an ice cold voice. I gulped and calmed down a bit.
“Good, now move your ass.” He added when my legs were finally free.
I climbed up the stairs and after a few moments I was in Mr. Thomson’s living room again. The other guys had already prepared everything for the game; the card table was ready for them to begin and on a small table by the wall there were bottles of whisky, vodka and other alcohols. In fact, two of the guys already had glasses with some sort of drinks in their hands.
“Now, be a good boy and sit. Or else…” I heard Frank say and I did as I was told. I understood that I couldn’t stand a chance against six adult guys, so I decided that the best thing to do was to wait for an opportunity to escape.
“Frank, Ron, tie his legs to the legs of the chair and I’ll take care of his hands.” Mr. Thomson said.
I was watching as the guys were binding me; Ron seemed to be a nice guy; he was about 180cm tall, had a one-day growth, green eyes and dark black short hair. He was wearing a brown sweatshirt and sweatpants.
When my legs were finally secured to the legs of the chair I felt Mr. Thomson undo the bonds on my hands. I didn’t have much time to enjoy ma part-freedom, because Frank and Ron grabbed my arms immediately and put them on the armrests of the chair. Then they started to fasten them to the armrest with two coils of rope; they went from the wrists up to the elbows. When they cinched the knots, my arms were totally useless for me.
“Man, what the hell did you gag him with?” Asked Ron when he taking care of my left arm and looked at my taped face more closely.
“Just my jockstrap. I’d been wearing it for some time, and even shot my load in them once or twice, so I guess they need some extra cleaning.” Mr. Thomson answered. I cast him an angry look; the taste in my mouth became suddenly even more bitter than before.
“George, give me a long coil of rope and a duct tape. I wanna make sure this fucking brat won’t cause us any trouble.” Frank said when he was done with my right arm.
Mr. Thomson did as he was asked; Frank took his cigar between his teeth and went behind me. I saw him wound the rope around my torso and the back of the chair, tightening it after each wrap, pinning me to the chair surprisingly well. He then took the duct tape, unwound some, and started to tape my fingers together and then to the armrest. Now I was truly helpless, but Frank wasn’t done yet. He went behind me again and wrapped more duct tape over my already gagged face, smoothing it after each wrap.
“Just saw the adhesive loosen a bit. This little fucker just got what he asked for.” He said when he was finally satisfied with my binding, took a deep drag on his cigar and blew the smoke right into my face. I remained silent; he just smirked, slapped me and walked away to his seat.
“Let’s move him to the table, so he can see who his new Master will be.” Suggested one of the guys whom I didn’t yet know by name.
They agreed and soon the seven of us were sitting beside the table. The game was about to begin…