Guys Who Need To Be Tied Up And Gagged – Part 19

‘Jordan’s Tale – The Conclusion’

Continued from ‘Guys Who Need To Be Tied Up And Gagged – Part 16’

Jordan breathed deeply and drank in his surroundings. This was where he belonged…back on the track…ready to compete…his body honed to perfection…powerful and strong and surging with energy.

He was clad only in his Sac City skinsuit. Its skintight lycra revealing every aspect of his firm, tight, muscled physique. He wore nothing underneath it. That was how he preferred it. As he began to stretch and warm up his muscles he could feel all the admiring eyes gazing at his powerful body. He had never been fitter or stronger. He was a work of art.

It had been a year since Jordan and his three team mates had been taken. A year since they had been kidnapped and held in chains for nearly 48 hours.

Jordan could recall the whole experience with absolute detail. Every minute was burned into his memories. Each athlete had been grabbed from the track, cuffed hand and foot, gagged and hooded and then stuffed into a sack for transport.

They’d been stripped down to just the skintight Sacramento City shorts and then chained tightly and stored overnight on morgue slabs in those tiny enclosed spaces reserved for dead bodies. The following morning, their bruised and weary bodies had been removed from their tiny cells and then stood up, their upper bodies unchained and wrists pulled painfully above their heads and rechained to fixings on the ceiling in the old, abandoned hospital in which they were being stored.

Their ankles, knees and thighs had remained chained. They’d spent the day like that – virtually hanging from the ceiling, having to stand on the balls of their feet to relieve the tension on their chained wrists pulled high above their heads.

The cloth and duct tape gags had been removed once they’d been chained in the standing position. They were each allowed to sip water before an oversize ballgag was firmly strapped into place, once more silencing each of the muscled athletes. Jordan recalled the sensation of having his mouth filled with the large, solid, rubber ball. He recalled how badly his jaw had begun to ache after only a matter of minutes.

They’d spent the day in darkness. After being chained standing, each of the athletes had been blindfolded. Duct tape had been placed over the eyes and then wrapped around their heads several times.

They’d been allowed to pee. Jordan recalled how his shorts had been pulled down and he’d been given the instruction, ‘Take a pee, now.’  He assumed they’d used a bottle or something similar. There had been laughter at this point. But Jordan only felt relief as he was able to release all the bodily fluid which had built up since the start of the kidnapping. As his shorts were pulled back up he heard someone comment, ‘Damn, this guy is big.’ There had been laughter.

And so the athletes had spent the day chained and standing. They’d given up struggling. Their heads hung down between their chained arms. Their entire bodies ached. Jordan’s shoulders burned ferociously from the stress of having his wrists chained tightly above his head. His leg chains were painfully tight and dug into his ankles, knees and thigh muscles.

All through their captivity, photos were taken and posted anonymously on the college Facebook page.

And, of course, they missed competing in the Sacramento City College Invitational Event. They missed their events, the 100m, 200m and 400m dash…and the relay races. And the Sac City team lost out big time. And that was the point.

They were returned late the following evening. They were found in the showers in the changing rooms as the building was being locked up for the night. Each of the athletes had been roped tightly…wrists bound behind their backs, elbows pulled painfully together and roped…their ankles, knees and thighs had been roped…and then each of them had been tied in a tight, unforgiving hogtie…their hands and feet almost touching. Duct tape had been used to keep them silent and in the dark.

The police hadn’t been that bothered. They’d seen this happen before. And when the photos of the chained athletes began to appear on the college Facebook page they pretty much knew how events would play out. The athletes would be returned, battered and bruised from their harsh bondage, but ultimately safe and alive.

Sacramento City College was angry. This had happened too many times before. They wanted it stopped.

Jordan’s three team mates were no longer allowed to compete in the squad and their parents sent them to other colleges. Their parents cited poor safeguarding procedures as the main reason.

But Jordan remained. The incident hadn’t really affected him. His mother had never really been that bothered about him. He’d effectively brought himself up from an early age. And his dad? His dad had disappeared from his life years ago.

And so Jordan remained. And trained. Trained hard. And now, a year later, he was at the peak of his physical fitness. He had obsessed over his training…never missing a session…always pushing himself harder and harder. He’d had his head shaved. He was sleek, strong, powerful…and successful. He won every event. He was the pride of Sacramento City College.

It was exactly one year since his kidnap. And that was all he could think about. Instead of being focused on his events, he kept reliving those long hours in bondage and captivity.

He continued to work through his stretches and warm ups. He thought about the tight embrace of the handcuffs restraining his wrists behind his back. He thought about the night spent chained in the tiny morgue space. He remembered the vague sense of security that he felt…restrained and locked in his tiny prison. He remembered the initials sensations of being grabbed…of being cuffed hand and foot…of being gagged and having the skintight rubber hood pulled over his head.

He remembered how he’d felt whilst playing childhood kidnap games with his brothers. He remembered the feelings of pleasure which would shiver through his body as his brothers roped and hogtied him. He remembered feeling the same way when he was hogtied for the final stages of his kidnap last year.

He stopped his stretches. He stood up straight. He looked down. His dick was hard. It was clear to see beneath his skintight red and black lycra. He rearranged himself as best he could. He was still being watched. He saw girls pointing and giggling. He saw cameras with long lenses clicking and shooting. He knew what he had to do.

He started walking towards the changing room. There were two big, black security guys standing by the doors. Security had been stepped up since last year. They watched him approaching. They nodded to him as he passed through the door into the changing rooms.

There was no-one else inside. He stood and waited. Minutes passed…he didn’t move. His dick was now rock hard. He made no attempt to hide it.

Jordan felt the sensation of movement behind him. He slowly turned around. The two security guys stood watching him, looking slightly puzzled. One of them was holding a collection of cuffs and chains, the other held a ballgag, duct tape and a rubber hood.

Jordan turned away from them.

He spoke, ‘Do it.’

His arms were grabbed and his wrists pulled behind him. Handcuffs were quickly locked in place. Within a matter of seconds his ankles were also cuffed. His head was grabbed and the ballgag was forced into his mouth. Straps were fastened around the back of his neck and up and over his head and down his face locking it firmly into place. Three strips of duct tape were placed over his eyes. The skintight black rubber hood was pulled over his head. The two small noseholes made breathing difficult…but tolerable.

He was dropped down onto the floor. Finally, he felt the large canvas sack being pulled over his head, down over his body and over his legs. He felt the sack being tied closed.

He felt himself being picked up and carried over the shoulders of one of the security guys.

He was then roughly dropped onto a hollow, metal surface…the floor of the van. He lay still, contemplating his bondage. He wasn’t on his own. The guards had already been busy. He could feel another body close to his…struggling hard…desperately striving for freedom from the cloying, stifling bondage.

Jordan lay still…breathing slowly…steadying his heart rate.

He briefly tensed his body. The cuffs held him firm. His jaw was already starting to ache…the oversize ballgag doing its job effectively. Waves off pleasure washed over his body…focusing on his rock hard dick…

Jordan allowed his body to relax…to become one with his restraints. This felt right. He was content. He was home.