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10 at night and Brad was still at the office working out a problem with the books. A 5 million dollar problem. He'd been at for hours, even after his boss, Mr. Phillips told him to worry about it on Monday. But Brad wasn't the kind of accountant who let money just stay disappeared. But as he worked long after everyone went home, the irregularities starting adding up until they came too 5 million, more then anyone had realized. And that meant there was only one thing he could do.

Brad reached for the phone and dialed.

"Hello?" Mr. Phillips answered.

"Mr. Phillips? This is Brad at the Office. Look, I was working the books..."

" I thought I told you to wait until Monday."

"Uhh well yeah. But as I was working I noticed that there's a lot more money missing then we realized. About five million."

There was a long pause. The Phillips responded, " Ok, You're right. This can't wait. Come to my house with the books. I keep a copy of all records here. Oh, and keep this to yourself for now. No use worrying people over what may be just a typo."

A few minutes later and Brad was pulling up to Mr. Phillip's condo, record books in hand. He XXXX and Mr. Phillips opened the door. "Come in, Brad", Mr. Phillips beckoned Brad in and closed the door behind him. "I can't tell you how really...Sorry I am you had to find out." Brad's look of puzzlement became fear as Mr. Phillips pulled out his concealed item and leveled it at Brad.

Brad was 6'2" and 260 pounds of muscle. He had played football in college and still worked out everyday to keep in shape. But muscle doesn't help much against a concealed item.

"I'm not going to kill you, brad. Not if you do what I say. Lay on the floor, on your stomach and put your hands behind your back."

"Wh..what are you going to do with me?" brad stuttered.

"Well" Mr.. Phillips explained as he began looping cords of rope tightly around brad's wrists, "You're going to stay here at my house for a while while I take a permanent retirement on a small island in the Caribbean. See, you weren't supposed to notice until after I had gone how much money I took. But, I'm not a murderer so if I can just keep you ...under wraps here until I take off for my flight tonight, it should all be good. Now get up!"

Mr.. Phillips had finished tying brad's hands behind his back and roughly grabbed his arm, XXXX him up. Brad was then shoved onto a chair. In a flash, Mr. Phillips had more rope in hand, rope which was soon wrapped snugly around Brad's chest, restraining his upper body even more. Brad could only twist his hands futiley at the ropes that bound his wrists. Mr. Phillips then began on brad's legs, his knees and then feet. When Mr. Phillips pulled a dirty rag out, brad knew what was next.

"But why? Why steal from your own...mmmmph!" brad never got to finish as he was quickly gagged. The rag was tied around his head so tightly it hurt his mouth.

"Who else should I steal money from?" Mr. Phillips gave brad's head a patronizing pat, "you may be here a while. I was in the scouts as a kid and I'm pretty good with knots. No one's coming here and you're such a good little worker bee, I know you didn't tell anyone where you were going. Just like I asked. Well, I gotta a plane waiting for me. See ya !"

"Mmmm! Mmmnph Giiiir!" Brad begged but the gag made it all unintelligible. He twisted wildly at the ropes held tight. They cut into his wrists and held his legs uncomfortably tight together. Even the gag was impossible to get off. It cut into his mouth and no matter how he pushed with his tongue or chewed on the rag, it stayed firmly in his mouth.

Brad could only look on helplessly as Mr. Phillips grabbed some bags and left, locking the door behind him. Brad continued moaning through his gag a few more minutes until he realized no one could hear him.

As brad sat there trussed up and helpless, fear turned to anger and brad renewed his efforts at freeing himself. But he couldn't even find the knots binding his hands, much less work on them. He even tried to strain his muscles against the ropes trying to sXXXX them superman style. But though his biceps flexed until they were huge, his already well developed chest expanded even more and his legs twisted, brad was no closer to freedom.

"MMMMMPH! Mmm Mamm pht!" Brad growled angrily. Then he noticed the phone beside him for the first time. An idea struck him. Twisting his bound body as much as he could, brad tried to reach the phone. Closer and closer, until he had twisted close enough to be able to nudge the cordless with his face. The phone fell to the ground.

Brad didn't waste any time. He put his weight forward and with a heave managed to stand up. He hopped until he was close to the phone and then tried to fall to his knees. Unfortunately, he lost his balance and hit the floor hard.

"Mmmk! Mmma Urr" Brad swore. But the phone was now within reach and he squirmed and wriggled as much as his bondage allowed. Soon he had the phone within reach. The buttons were hard to press with his nose but Brad worked his nose into the redial button. If he could get somebody on the phone, he could get help.

"Hello?" A woman answered.

"Mmmmmph! Mmmmmmm!" brad moaned desperately.

"Excuse me?"

"Mmmmm! MMMMM!"

"Is this some kind of pervert? Because i don't find this funny or sexy!"

"Mmm! MMphhhhttmmmm!" Brad begged before he heard a click and the dial tone. Brad banged his head against the floor in frustration.

"Well", Brad thought" guess I should have tried 911 first thing" and was just about to pound his nose onto the nine button when he heard someone fiddling with the lock on the door. Was Mr.. Phillips wrong? Was someone else visiting him? But who else would have a key?

Brad's heart went into his throat as he saw Mr. Phillips coming in the room.

"Well, well Well. Good thing I thought I should take all those files with me. Looks like you just can't stop being busy, can you. Guess I'm going to have to XXXX you to relax" Mr.. Phillips grinned and before Brad knew what was happening, his ropes were tightened even more and then hog tied. Mr.. Phillips ripped the phone cord and scooped up the record books before he left one last time.

Now all Brad could do was roll round helplessly. For hours he twisted at his ropes and grunted into his gag. As dawn came, Brad's strength began to wear out. By night fall Brad had given up completely, his may have had a body builder's physique but it didn't help. By Sunday Brad had actually gotten used to being in bondage, the gag spit filled but still unmovable. When Brad heard XXXXing Monday, he wasn't sure if it was a dream or not. He didn't get free until that night when the police broke down the door.

Mr.. Phillips was never caught.

Fin

Model: Brad

Photographer: Caitiff

 Date of Production: 02/01/2000