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29 photos; 8:33 video

After five days in the office sorting cases instead of being in the field doing automotive insurance adjustment, Pete was ready to unwind some. As far as he was concerned, there was no better way to do this than to slip into a comfortable pair of shorts and his favorite old sneakers and go for a jog around his home town. Just shorts, socks, and sneaks. Pete didn't like to feel encumbered when he ran, and he always liked a bit of breeze. Running made him feel macho, and he was thinking about the sensation of being a part of the world instead of just on it as he entered the alley.

The attack was swift. Pete stopped to re-tie a shoelace, not really paying much attention to the young man on the opposite side of the alley. Pete was musing about the cobblestones, thinking that sometime in the past this had been a main road through a prosperous part of town, and now it's just a back lane. A hand clasped over his mouth "Don't cry out, and don't say a word," the stranger warned. Pete's eyes were wide, but he nodded agreement.

The stranger then wasted no time in hustling Pete into a nearby clapboard house. "Cross your wrists and hold them out." The younger man had Pete's crossed wrists expertly tied. Then he was ordered to kneel on the already open convertible bed.

The stranger did not tell Pete his name. Pete's eyes returned again and again to the pistol. When Pete started to object about his captivity, he got the pistol in his mouth. "You just shut the hell up," the young man said. "In fact, I think you need to be gagged." A minute later, he was, and Pete thought it was almost a relief to be gagged after choking on the pistol.

Was he about to get XXXXd or worse? Pete wondered what "worse" might be as the stranger pushed him down onto the bed, but the thought of being XXXXd was bad enough.

When Pete's shorts were tugged down, his captor noted Pete's near erection and said, "You seem to like rough treatment."

Pete shook his head no, but his cock always seemed to have a mind of its own. And it usually got Pete in a lot more trouble than it got him out of. Pete actually marveled at his own tumescence, considering the circumstances.

Pete decided to play along while his captor had the upper hand, and Pete did not object as his cock and balls were circled and divided and tied to a rope spanning from each armrest of the sofa-bed and his still sock-shod ankles were tied to the bed frame.

It would so easy to relax into captivity, Pete thought, as he involuntarily tasted the gag. It was salty, as if someone had sweat on it.

Pete's relative comfort was short lived because his captor told him to sit up . . . and then went for a compact digital camera.

Pete's bound wrists were tied to the foot of the bed, and then he was trapped between the forward pull of the ropes at his wrists and the rearward pull at his cock and balls. Pete's captor was content to take several photographs at different angles while Pete was thusly bound. "That's right," he said. "Look at me when I take your picture." Pete wondered if his pictures were going to show up on some lewd site on the internet.

Then Pete's ankles and cock and balls were untied and he was able to rest for a few minutes. His captor was rummaging around with more ropes, but the XXXX never left his side.

Folding beds with frames were very versatile places for bondage, Pete thought as he was told to lay on his stomach and had his crossed wrists bound to the bed frame. "Spread your legs open wide," he was told, and a nudge to his ribcage with the barrel of the pistol put emphasis on the command. Pete still had his socks, he noted. Maybe his young captor didn't like feet? Or maybe the guy just liked sweaty, smelly sneaker socks. Pete wondered about this as his widely separated ankles were tied to the bed frame.

Pete had still been offered no reason for his XXXX. He was feeling more vulnerable on his belly than he had while sitting up. The bizarre sequence of bondage the young man was XXXX on him was confusing. The guy was big on threatening XXXX, but the XXXX remained only verbal threats and mainly implied by the presence of the pistol.

Pete was really beginning to wonder what the guy was after. He was also particularly aware of the head of his cock pressing against the sheets. What would the guy want to do with him now that the was really helpless? "Sit tight," said his captor. "I have to go to the john, and then I'll decide what to do about you."

Do about me? Pete thought. As soon as his captor left the room, Pete began to struggle. His ropes were tight, however, and he became still when the young guy returned.

Pete had a gXXXXse of the pistol as the other guy wrapped a bandanna around his head covering his eyes. It was on the bed right beside him, but bound as he was, it might well have been in another state.

Pete shivered as the cold XXXXmetal touched his tender anus. Hadn't he read somewhere about being sodomized with the barrel of a XXXX?

Then he was flipped onto his back and his ankles were again bound to the bed frame. This was somehow beginning to feel like a finale for him. Now he really was exposed and helpless. The young man could do anything he wanted to him, and Pete could do nothing but grunt around this even more restrictive tape gag.

"I wonder," said the guy, "if I could fold up the bed with you in it?"

***
Thirty minutes later, Pete was back in his shorts and sneaks. Seeking cooler air, he was seated leaning against the side of the house. He looked up as his friend Ed came down the porch steps. Ed was carrying a couple of beers. "Well," he said, "what'd you think about that - being taken against your will tied up, photographed, and being threatened with a XXXX?"

"The poking in the ribs was a bit much," said Pete as he accepted a cold brew. "But you ought be more careful when you go to hand gag me or try that breathing control stuff. I think I'm gonna bruise this time."
"Aw, poor, poor baby," said Ed sympathetically. "Your place next time?"

"Yeah, man. What you doing tonight?"
Ed laughed. "Thinking about tying my ass up?"
"Always, if not thinking about being tied up by you."
"We got one strange relationship," said Ed. "You want a ride home, or are you gonna run.?
"Well, wanna tie me up in your car?" asked Pete.
"Sure," said Ed. "I'll get the ropes and camera."

The End