Bound on webcam: a day and night in my captive's shoes.

Postby Rocero648 » Mon Jan 18, 2010 2:39 pm

**A quick intro:

First of all, I understand if this gets moved into the "fiction" section. This story is based on non-fictional events, and in fact a good chunk of what happens in this story is from non-fictional experience. However, these experiences have been "glorified" with a bit of fictionality in order to "spice things up". The big difference between the truth and fiction in this story anyway is that the captive was not drugged, and he was not *entirely* held against his will.

Another thing that makes this non-fictional is that the events of this story are actually ongoing as we speak. See, in reality, I'm actually the captor writing this story from the "perspective" of my current captive. Don't worry - he's in no danger, and nothing sexual is going to happen to him. However, he IS currently being broadcast live on webcam (is it cool if I say this, mods?), and if I'm feeling generous I'll let you know where to find him (over a PM).

On with the story:
--

(PART 1)

I can’t move my arms, and there’s something in my mouth. I use my tongue to try to push it out, but something covering my mouth is keeping it forced in. I try to stretch my legs, but they’re stuck together. I’m lying on something that feels like a big pillow or a mattress…
I can’t see anything. There’s something covering my eyes. However, I can make out a bit of light.
I try to move my lips and my tongue. I can feel a big rubber ball in my mouth attached to whatever was covering it. I try to push it out again, hard this time. I push my tongue against the rubber ball and I try to force my jaw wider open. I can hardly get it moving at all. This…thing… is strapped all around my head, and it’s damn tight. I try to shake my head around to see if anything will come loose. Something jiggles on the strap behind my head. What is that? It sounds like a little metal… Jesus, is this thing padlocked on??
“Hmm! Mmmm! HHHHHHMPPPPPH!!!”
A pain like a pounding hammer in my head makes me stop. It was no use anyway; I doubt anyone in the next room could’ve even heard me. I try to get up, but I instantly feel nauseas. It’s like I’m hung-over. Wait… maybe I am hung-over. The last thing I can honestly remember is (ugh… my head) being at the bar near campus… and then waking up here.
There’s something around my wrists. It soft and… furry, or something, but under that there’s something really sturdy keeping my wrists there. Handcuffs? Fuzzy handcuffs? Don’t those usually have a quick-release? I prod around the cold, surprisingly heavy fuzzy handcuffs. No quick-release. I’ve seen fuzzy handcuffs a couple times before, but none of them felt like these ones. These felt more like the handcuffs I had to wear in the back of a cop cruiser that one time in Toronto…
I can’t find anything. I can feel a big key-hole on both cuffs. I try to get them off. Whoever cuffed me, cuffed me tight. Not that it hurts my wrists since it’s not on like a damn vice, and the fuzzy material actually made them feel kind of comfortable (what a weird thought to have at a time like this... yeah… I might be bound and gagged and trapped somewhere I don’t know, but at least I’m comfortable).
Screw the handcuffs for now; I need to get this blindfold off so I can get a better idea of my situation. My head hurts like a bitch, but I need to focus and get this blindfold off. I rub my face against whatever I’m laying on (definitely something like a mattress… or a futon?). The cloth, little by little, is starting to come off. Every time I move my head, it’s like a bowling ball is banging against my skull; but I need to keep going. Just a little bit longer just so I can see where I am. Then I can take a break.
I eventually get the blindfold off. It slides down to my neck. There’s also something else around my neck, and the first thing I see when I open my eyes is a leash attached to me and a hook in the wall. Indeed, I’m sitting on a dusty black futon and there’s a lamp pointed directly at me. However, the next thing I see really freaks me out – I can see myself on a TV screen, bound and gagged and staring with wide eyes. There’s also a camera set up on a tripod pointed right at me. Is he recording this? Nearby is a computer. There’s a chat window open. There’s also a video feed of me being sent into the chat room. I’m being watched… by a LOT of guys. And a couple girls, too. But mostly guys. And lots of them are leaving comments that are making me feel really uncomfortable.
I look at myself in the TV screen. The thing over my mouth is a black leather gag, obviously with a built-in rubber ball. Whoever was keeping me here definitely had a good collection of heavy-duty bondage toys. And not only was I wearing fuzzy handcuffs… they were pink fuzzy handcuffs.
At least I have all my clothes on. But with the way things are looking, I wasn’t too sure how long that was going to be unless I escaped.
I can hear footsteps coming. Heavy footsteps.

Re: Bound on webcam: a day and night in my captive's shoes.

Postby Male shortstied » Mon Jan 18, 2010 3:22 pm

So what is the captive wearing?

Re: Bound on webcam: a day and night in my captive's shoes.

Postby Rocero648 » Mon Jan 18, 2010 3:29 pm

He's currently fully clothed in jeans and a t-shirt. More coming soon!!

Re: Bound on webcam: a day and night in my captive's shoes.

Postby jb99 » Mon Jan 18, 2010 3:54 pm

Looks good, can't wait for the next episode...

Re: Bound on webcam: a day and night in my captive's shoes.

Postby Rocero648 » Mon Jan 18, 2010 4:33 pm

(PART 2)
My captor’s big on talking. It’s actually quite irritating, like being at the dentist where they try to hold a conversation with you when they’re scraping your teeth. Except, instead of having a routine check-up, I’m tied up and gagged in some weirdo’s basement.
It still didn’t stop him from trying small-talk.
“You a student?”
“Mmm.”
“You look pretty young. How old are you? Nineteen?”
“Nnn mmff yrrff ffmmng bnnfff.”
“You’re definitely a good looking kid.”
“Fmmng pmmrrmph!”
The problem with being heavily gagged is that I don’t think he can tell I’m trying to tell him to screw off and mind his own business. He seems to be just filling in my muffles with whatever he wants.
“So you ready to have a little bit of fun?”
“Wmm dnn ymmm wmmph fmm mmph??”
The gag also served to make me feel really, really stupid. Why was I even trying to ask questions? But I also felt stupid sitting there quietly.
He walks over to a table covered in all sorts of “neat” equipment just for me. He picks up a coil of rope and a knife. He also picks up a regular pink bandana. More pink…
He walks over. “Stand up.” I stood up almost immediately upon noticing his huge knife. I almost fell over too since my legs were bound together, but somehow I managed to get straight up on my own two feet. He takes the rope. He wraps it around me once and crosses over both lengths of rope at the back. He takes both lengths and yanks it out front from underneath my ass and my groin, and then pulls it up tightly and ties it up to my waste.
“MMPH!”
My crotch is getting very uncomfortable as he continues to tighten it, and I can feel the rope through my jeans. It’s like I can’t move my waste or legs an inch without this rope tightening or rubbing me down there. He cuts the rope at the knot and takes out another piece. He attaches this piece to my crotch area, directly to the two ropes giving me a nightmarish wedgie.
He cuts off the rope at about a foot and a half length and holds it like a leash. “MMM!” I give a loud groin as he tugs it sharply. It’s not that it hurt more-so than it was just incredibly embarrassing and uncomfortable having this rope wedging into my ass and driving my groin crazy. All while being watched by an audience of people who were really, really enjoying this.
He lets the makeshift crotch-leash fall to the ground and walks behind me. He unclips my collar so that my neck is no longer leashed. I can feel him playing around with the strap on my gag, trying to get the padlock open, and then…
“HEL-MMMPPH! MMMM! MMMHHMPH!” The moment I try to yell, his big gross sweaty hand clamps over my mouth.
“Shhh,” he reminds me of the knife as he holds the blade up in front of me like a pen. “Come over here.”
He’s surprisingly strong, though I’m pretty skinny for a guy. He manages nearly pick me up off the ground with one of his arms around my waste and his other hand still around my mouth. I really want him to get his gross palm off my face, but instead he drags me over to his table full of bondage gear. He puts me down while still silencing me and picks up a black leather gag with his free hand (the one not pressed over my lips). He then showed me very clearly what it was: it was almost exactly like the one I wore before, except the gag inside was in the shape of… something I really didn’t want in my mouth.
“Now if you keep trying stuff like that, I’m going to put this in your mouth, and I’m not going to take it out for a long time. Got it?”
“Mmmph.” I nodded my head. He put the black leather gag down and picked up the pink bandana. He brought it right up to my mouth before finally moving his hand. Slowly, he slid his palms and fingers away and grabbed the other side of the bandana, holding it right in front of me. “Open your mouth,” he said, trying to jam his fingers through my lips to force my jaw open. Eventually he manages to slip the cloth in my mouth and my lips strain as he ties it tightly. It’s a very thick cloth.
“How’s that?” he asks. He reaches over in front and gives my crotch bindings a harsh tug. “MMMMPH!” “Good.”
He takes the knife and cuts the bindings on my legs. I’m free to walk, but obviously not very far as he picks up my “crotch-leash” and holds it like a dog leash. “Don’t try to run away. It’s not like you’ll get very far with those handcuffs on anyway, at least not before I catch you. And believe me, that gag is only one of the many things I can control you with.”
He takes a little white remote out of his pocket with just a single slider-button on it. He pushes it up slightly, but I feel the effect almost instantly. There was something attached to my crotch that was vibrating. “Mmmm!” I cry out, confused and disturbed. It was only making the crotch-rope feel so much worse now.
“Good boy.” He takes the crotch leash and starts tugging on it like he’s trying to lead me away, making it tighten and rub in agony. “Now let’s go for a quick walk. Smile for the camera.”

Re: Bound on webcam: a day and night in my captive's shoes.

Postby FelixSH » Tue Jan 19, 2010 12:14 pm

Sounds very good so far, i wait for more.
But...what does "he was not *entirely* held against his will" mean? :roll:

Re: Bound on webcam: a day and night in my captive's shoes.

Postby fratboydanny » Tue Aug 17, 2010 1:53 pm

hey, this is a really good story. please continue it.

Re: Bound on webcam: a day and night in my captive's shoes.

Postby mikeybound » Wed Jan 09, 2013 4:22 pm

Please continue!