## Jake's Request

Post by xtc » Wed Apr 27, 2011 2:36 pm

So there I was; sitting and minding my own business and I noticed a story request. Could I be bothered? Was there something else I coud be doing? Yes.
So there I was; sitting and minding my own business and I saw the request again. I had an hour to spare after which I posted the initial draft of the first half of the story to Jake. He agreed to allow me to use his character and provided the information I needed.
The next day I posted the first draft of this story to Jake, or X50 as he should be known. Later on I de-bugged it as best I could and here it is.
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JOHN DUNNE’S ENTERTAIMENTS – A TASTER SESSION
“He really should have known better. Alright, everyone writes silly things on web sites but most people don’t mean them. Then he turned up here, would you credit it?”
“Yeah, he’s got the bit about spread-eagled naked on a bed but he doesn’t seem that happy about it now that it’s happened.”
“That might be because you said you didn’t notice the bit about “Just don’t hurt me!” on his posts.
With that the two laughing masked guys left.
Jake was left gagged with a perforated silicone ball gag that had hadn’t been fastened particularly tightly round his head. That was until Otto fastened that inch & a half belt over it and pulled it so tightly round his head that the red ball was forced so far back into his mouth that he thought he might gag.
The men had taken careful note of what Jake had written and, during the softening-up process, they made sure that the leather fingerless gloves he was wearing wouldn’t help him slip out of the ropes. So, I suppose he wasn’t really naked.
-----00000-----
Jake took the piece of paper out of his pocket and checked the address. Yes, this was the place. He rang the call bell and, when asked, gave the code-word. A voice said, “Come up to flat four.” There was a buzzing sound and Jake thought, “It’s now or never.” and climbed the stairs.
The door to flat four, the one at the top of the block, had a bell-push with the name “John Dunne” by it. It didn’t take much, even for a fifteen-year old, to get the pun. He pressed the buzzer.
The almost archetypical sliding panel behind a grille on the door opened and a masked face said, “Welcome Slave, state your name and number.”
Jake had read the instructions and answered, “I have no name, Master. My number will be the one you give me.”
“Well said, slave. Now on your knees.” Jake knelt waiting for admission to he knew not what really.
The door opened and a well-built man in a singlet was standing there dressed entirely in black. “You will be slave number X50. “What is your name?”
“I don’t have a name, Master, but my number is X50”
“Good answer. Hands on your head. Kiss by boots.” X50 did as he was told. Had he made the right decision? Where he was now, he could always try to make a run for it. X50 kissed his Master’s boots.
“Don’t get up.” X50 stayed bent with his nose barely an inch from the floor.
“You will obey orders without question. Do you understand?
“Yes, Master.”
“Lose that rucksack and strip to the waist.” As Jake removed his sweat-shirt and t-shirt, his dark brown, gelled hair lost any style he’d put into it before he came out. Now lose the trainers and socks. Don’t get up.” Removing his footwear whist still kneeling was not the easiest task he’d ever attempted but Jake knew that, if he wanted to get inside, he’d have to do as he was told. He wondered why he wasn’t told to remove his precious leather gloves as well.
“Stuff your clothes into your rucksack and pick it up in your mouth.” Now Jake really thought that it might be time to run for it because there didn’t seem to be anything stopping him. That was probably what made him carry on.
He lowered his hands to the floor and grabbed the hanging strap in his teeth. “No-one said you could take your hands off your head, slave. Drop it!” By now the “Host” had Jake’s jaw in his hand forcing him to look him in the eye.
Jake dropped the bag and put his hands on his head again. He waited. The guy looked at the rucksack and Jake bent down again and retrieved the bag in his teeth but with his hands in the correct position this time.
-----00000-----
“Enter.” said the Doorman. Jake tried to stand. “Drop the bag. On your knees. Try again. Last chance before the punishment starts.” Jake did as he was told and crawled on his knees into the flat carrying his rucksack like a dog.
He’d never seen the like. There were at least a dozen young men in various states of undress and even some who were fully dressed. Some were bound in positions he’d never even imagined, others seemed to be using them as furniture or as instruments of personal hygiene. Jake knew it was too late to pull out now. His skinny jeans started to feel the strain.
“Drop the bag, X50.” Jake did so. “How old are you?”
“Eighteen, Master.” That was an obvious lie and the Doorman demanded proof. “Permission to take my hands off my head, please Master?” Permission was granted – but only for one hand. Jake fumbled clumsily for his wallet. He knew that he had several fake ID cards that got him into any club in Cambridge. “Please look in here, Master.” Jake handed the wallet over and replaced his hand back on his head. The Doorman looked cursorily at the fake cards and threw the wallet casually over his shoulder without replacing them. He then called Otto and Igor over. They came and they were told to train X50 carefully.
The slightly built boy found his arms wrenched straight into painful locks as he was pulled off his knees, bent over and marched into an adjacent room. On entering, Jake could see nothing of what was in the room as he was being bent almost double by his “trainers”. He was forced back onto his knees and told to put his hands on his head once more. He didn’t dare look round but could see the wall ahead of him. His intake of breath was audible. He couldn’t see the smiles on the faces of Otto and Igor who were standing slightly behind him.
Jake, or X50 as he was trying to think of himself, could see items that his little kink had only previously allowed him to imagine. Now that he had seen them carefully positioned on the wall, he wasn’t too sure that he really wanted to try some of them after all. But there he was, stripped down to his jeans and his favourite gloves with nervous sweat running freely down his s olive-coloured torso. The tickling feeling as it ran down between his arse-cheeks took on a more irritating significance than it really warranted especially as he could do nothing about it.
The only item of furniture in the room appeared to be a rather long bed with hefty wooden bed posts that were reinforced by four steel rods connecting them. The bedclothes seemed to be limited to a thick mattress that was completely enveloped in a black latex cover. Yes, seeing all this took his breath away and made him more than a bit apprehensive but also, along with the muscular “Trainers”, it also put an increased strain on his already rather tight jeans.
“Ho Kay, boiee,” said Otto in a pronounced Fennland accent, “Crawl acraass an’ make y’self comfy.”
By now X50 was already in character but couldn’t be sure what he was allowed to do. He crawled on his knees to the bed and waited.
“Cloymb up and stretch y’sewf owt.”
X50 did as he was told and directed his extremities, other than the one that seemed to be trying to point at the ceiling, towards the bed posts. The feel of that mattress on his back and arms was something that he wasn’t prepared for. This experience was getting more intense by the minute. His normal, sensible brain was still ambivalent about whether he’d made the right decision but a certain part of his body had no doubt at all! For a fifteen year-old in front of strangers the embarrassment was mortifying but he kept telling himself that these men were professionals.
It’s a cruel design fault in the human body that the eyes can’t see what’s above the eyebrows and X50 couldn’t see what Otto and Igor were getting from the wall. He didn’t have to wait long to find out. The legs of his jeans were pushed up and soft white ropes were wrapped with a lark’s head round each ankle. A few more turns round each ankle and the free ends were passed through the original bight and knotted off. Like true professionals Otto and Igor evened out the tensions before tying the ropes in a loop round the bed posts. There was plenty of free end left on both ropes if the bondage needed tightening later.
Now for the wrists. Igor said that it was a god job that X50 had been allowed to keep his gloves; they might help prevent rope burns. Shame about his ankles. Very much the same procedure took place as before: lark’s head, loops and knotting off until it came to the next bit. When, acting as a pair, Otto and Igor each took a free end in each hand, they pulled them tight on either side of a bed post. Keeping the ropes tight, they wound them several times round the posts before tying off with reef knots.
At the first pull X50 gave voice but managed to control himself almost immediately. Once the tie was completed, Jake was surprised that the spread-eagle didn’t stretch him as tightly as he was expecting it to. He’d never experienced the use of the free ends of rope to wrap round the tethers to pull the victim tight. Jake suddenly became X50 again when Otto pinched both his earlobes between his finger nails to see his reaction. Igor said that he thought the slave had been tied tightly enough.
Following the insertion and strapping into place of the ball gag, the two trainers left. It was probably dinner time
-----00000-----
X50 lay there trying to take in his situation. He was spread-eagled, gagged and completely at the mercy of people he didn’t know. He hadn’t even been given a safe word, not that it would have been much good gagged as he was. He tried his bindings; they were surprisingly painless as far as digging into his flesh was concerned. Even the spread-eagle hadn’t pulled him so tight that it was painful. But the strap holding the gag in place already hurt like ninety!
Eventually Otto and Igor returned. They brought two other trainers with them. All four men were dressed in the house uniform: black trousers and boots and singlets which showed off the fact that they were somewhat fit. Each trainer was also masked.
“Jeans?”
“Jeans.”
Otto produced a craft knife and started to cut the inside of the right leg of Jake’s jeans from his ankle to his crutch. In spite of his trepidation, Jake immediately became aroused again.
“Oh, good job you decided to free him of his jeans, it looks as if he’s trying to escape.” remarked Igor noticing the strain in X50’s jeans. “Don’t worry, boy, won’t be long now.”
After the same attention had been paid to the left leg of his jeans, X50 considered himself lucky not to have been nicked. He’d forgotten these guys were professionals.
“Wha’ nah, then?” asked Otto. “Hoi know.” And he unzipped the boy’s jeans and cut them from the bottom of the zip to the crutch. That made Jake jump. (I think you know what I mean!) Jake was left looking as if he’d been skinned with the denim skin spread out under and around him and his favourite light purple boxers displaying their white stripes just like a tent in a mediaeval illustration.
He was now becoming more certain that he had made the right decision.
Otto’s craft knife made very short order of X50’s favourite boxers but he couldn’t care any more.
Jake had never seen bondage tape before; he’d heard of it but couldn’t understand how it could stick to itself but not to the victim’s skin. He was about to find out. Several layers of the pink stuff was quickly wrapped round his eyes rendering him completely blind. How much more intense could this fifteen-year-old’s experience get? He was about to find out.
The first sensation was quite gentle: just something dragged lightly from his heels to his toes. After the initial reaction X50 could feel fingers gently caressing his armpits. He was now completely tense. The following fifteen minutes contained the most extreme tickling experience of his life. If he hadn’t been so strictly gagged, his squeals, grunts and snorts would certainly have disturbed the peace of the other clients of “John Dunne”. After fifteen minutes, he realised why the mattress was encased in latex.
“Ho Kay, lay aff.” said Otto’s unmistakable voice and the torment ceased immediately. X50 heard people leave but he couldn’t tell how many.
He’d decided to submit himself to a dungeon. So far his experience had exceeded his expectations but lying in his own piss was not his favourite aspect of it. He could feel someone silently mopping the mattress and then drying him off as well. If he could have spoken, he would have thanked the cleaner.
“Go’ a buy friend?” The accent was unmistakable.
Jake nodded.
“Whoy dun’ y’ do this with he, then? Y’ dun’ kna hoo y’r guuna meet ‘n a place loyk this.”
Otto then left. Jake was on his own for what seemed like hours. After thirty minutes the Doorman returned.
-----00000-----
“Enjoying yourself?” X50 could only nod. “Now I’m going to untie you. Make sure you do exactly as you’re told. Understand?” Even though he was disappointed, X50 nodded.
Jake felt the rope pulling his right wrist towards the bed post being released; even that provided considerable physical relief. The Doorman gave X50 permission to finish untying himself. That was more difficult than Jake would have believed but after he’d unwrapped the blindfold, things became easier. The first thing he did was to undo the cruel strap holding the ball gag so far into his mouth that he hadn’t previously believed to be possible. He didn’t bother removing the ball gag itself now that his jaw muscles were no longer so painfully extended and set about untying his left arm. After due attention to his ankles, Jake just rejoiced in wriggling for a while. Then he unbuckled his gag.
“Right, your time’s up. Put this on and come with me.” Jake didn’t understand; he’d just been thrown a roll of bright pink adhesive tape.
He fell to his knees – he was still aware of his place – and asked, “I’m sorry, Master, but what do I do with this?”
“Stick a few strips over your dick. I don’t want any of the neighbours to see you naked.” Jake still didn’t really understand but he was only too prepared to comply. Now that was cruel: as soon as X50 tried to make himself a modesty covering, he became aroused again. After about ten minutes, he’d managed to make himself a passable pouch and followed the Doorman, still on his knees, back into the main room. There was no sign of his rucksack or his wallet or the fake ID’s that should have been on the floor.
“Right, take these in your right hand and fuck off. Come back when you’re really eighteen.” Jake was confused. He’d been given a business card with “John Dunne Entertainments” and various other details on it and a DVD labelled “X50’s Taster Session”.
“Please, Master, I can’t go home like this. Please.” And he kissed the Doorman’s boots.
“It’s alright, nipper, your rucksack’s just inside the front door. All you’ve got to do is get down to the ground floor like that and hope no one sees you. Now fuck off.” The Doorman gave Jake a substantial kick to his bare backside, causing him to sprawl chest down on the floor, and then opened the door. “On your belly until you’re out of my guest room. Oh, and this one was on the house.”
When the door slammed behind him, Jake stood up and suddenly felt even more vulnerable than he had for the previous few hours.
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Thank you, Jake. you shifted a bit of a writer's block there.
Blessed be,
Xtc
Last edited by xtc on Sat Apr 27, 2013 7:27 am, edited 1 time in total.
Boxer shorts are cool,
but little speedos rule!
More by the same author: viewtopic.php?f=5&t=22729

### Re: Jake's Request

Post by Jake » Wed Apr 27, 2011 3:43 pm

Hehe, it's brilliantly written and i love it thanks <3
I'm all yours. Use any method of tying me up and I'll welcome it. Gag me however you wish. Blindfold me if you need to. Just don't hurt me!

### Re: Jake's Request

Post by fratboydanny » Thu Apr 28, 2011 8:01 am

Brilliantly done, XTC, just brilliant.

### Re: Jake's Request

Post by sarumansauron » Thu Apr 28, 2011 9:33 am

Just brilliant! Thanks!
I love TUGS and TICKLING Torture!!!!!

### Re: Jake's Request

Post by sarwrductan » Thu Apr 28, 2011 3:33 pm

Nice story! I thought I saw a pun at the beginning but I can't find it now. Oh well. Will there be more?
Those who walk forward always looking back, don't see that which makes them stumble

### Re: Jake's Request

Post by mikeybound » Fri Apr 26, 2013 9:42 pm

At first I was like: This is hot!
But then I was like: He's 15? Nononononono!
Finally I was like: That was a win right there. I thought he would actually do it!
On a side note, I feel like I need an Otto translation.

### Re: Jake's Request

Post by xtc » Sat Apr 27, 2013 7:32 am

As Mikeybound has resurrected this old story, I thought I would re-post it without the devastated punctuation caused by an earlier site update. So, please feel free to read with ease.
= = = = =
As to the need for a translation of what “Otto” (a professional name, as I’m sure readers will understand) is saying, I would point out that Fenlanders consider themselves to be a people apart. So do the rest of us! Until a couple of decades ago, they spoke an impenetrable dialect and I should point out that Otto was doing very well to speak such excellent standard English, even if it was a little accented. I could explain the attitude of the rest of the population by the English expression “count the toes” or, perhaps, by the American description of similar populations, “The play banjos and ***** their cousins.” Now I’m in trouble, aren’t I?
= = = = =
What follows is a translation of what Otto was saying:
“Ho Kay, boiee, crawl acraass an’ make y’self comfy.”
“Very well, young man, crawl over here and render yourself comfortable.”
“Cloymb up and stretch y’sewf owt.”
“Mount upon this bed and extend yourself as far as possible.”
“Wha’ nah, then?”
“What shall we do to this young person next?”
“Ho Kay, lay aff.”
“Alright, that will be sufficient.”
“Go’ a buy friend?”
“Do you have a male significant other?”
“Whoy dun’ y’ do this with he, then? Y’ dun’ kna hoo y’r guuna meet ‘n a place loyk this.”
“Why do you not do this sort of thing with him in that case? You have no concept of what sort of person you are likely to encounter in such a place as this.”
I hope that helps.
Wassail!
Xtc
Boxer shorts are cool,
but little speedos rule!
More by the same author: viewtopic.php?f=5&t=22729

### Re: Jake's Request

Post by mikeybound » Sat Apr 27, 2013 7:48 am

Thanks for doing it so soon, xtc.

### Re: Jake's Request

Post by xtc » Sat Apr 27, 2013 10:52 am

You're welcome.
Boxer shorts are cool,
but little speedos rule!
More by the same author: viewtopic.php?f=5&t=22729

### Re: Jake's Request

Post by mikeybound » Sat Apr 27, 2013 1:47 pm

Way I figure it, he's at most a year away from a sequel. Maybe some stories with this 'friend' he mentioned until a return to the dungeon?

### Re: Jake's Request

Post by xtc » Sun Apr 28, 2013 2:54 am

Sorry mate, too many loose ends to tie up with other stories.
I'm writing about five at the minute and none of them is anywhere near ready for posting.
But, as you say, given a year . . .
Boxer shorts are cool,
but little speedos rule!
More by the same author: viewtopic.php?f=5&t=22729