Mark detached the rope from the chain, then took the boy’s keys out of his backpack and undid the padlock. He wrapped the chain tight around the kid’s neck, and locked it into place with the padlock, leaving the rest of the chain hanging, as a leash. Boy, did that look hot!
Mike removed the spreader bar from between his legs. I gathered up his shoes, socks and ruined shorts and jock and stuffed them in his backpack. I kept the backpack.
Our victim was clearly expecting his arms to be released. I made it clear that wasn’t going to happen. I also told him we were keeping his backpack and bike.
His look of total panic was delightful.
“How am I going to get home?!”
“You walk, of course. Stark naked. With your hands bound behind your back. And covered in cum. I would suggest you avoid other men during your walk. Your condition might give them ideas.”
“How am I going to get into my place?!”
I said, “We have your keys and ID, which has your address on it. We’ll stop by your place, unlock the door, and leave it ajar for you. It’s more than you deserve.”
“But it’s nearly two miles to my place! And with my hands tied, how will I be able to dress?”
“We don’t care. And don’t think we’re done with you. We know where you live. We have keys to your place. And you are now our bitch.”
“But I’m straight!”
“Good. We want you to hate this.”
The boy sat down with a thud, and began to sob. During the conversation, Mike and Mark had put the backpack and bike in the van.
“You might want to wait until it’s dark to walk home,” I said.
The bound, naked teen just nodded. I didn’t think he was completely broken, but he was certainly becoming very compliant. Progress!
We climbed into the van and left him there. We left three of the cameras running and took the others with us. The were controllable in pan, tilt and zoom via the internet, so we could record the start of his little adventure remotely.
Frank hopped out of the van with a camera, about a 1/4 mile away from the woods. He would track the teen’s naked journey to his apartment. The rest of us drove to his apartment, and unlocked the door.
We then set up some HD spy cameras in the kid’s apartment. We chose locations that gave good coverage, but would not be easily spotted. Finally, we unlocked the back door, so we would have immediate access from the front or the back.
His apartment was in the basement of an old house that had been converted to apartments for students. He had one large room with a kitchen area, and a small half bathroom, with shower but no tub. We didn’t bother with a camera there. He wouldn’t be getting that far.
We returned to the van to watch the show on the video monitor we had attached to my laptop. From here we used my cell phone data connection to control the cameras we left at the rape site, and to monitor the camera that Frank had.
It was nearly sunset, so we figured our prey would be on the move soon. I double checked what had been recorded since our departure. The boy had remained on the ground. In the fetal position.
Suddenly, one of the cameras automatically moved in the direction of noise it heard. Someone was coming up the path! The camera spotted to guys who appeared to be late teens, riding their bikes up the path.
I brought up the camera that continued to watch our victim. He heard the noise as well. As soon as he heard actual voices, he crawled quickly into the underbrush.
As the cyclists passed, he looked at them longingly. I think he was trying to decide if he should ask for help. Instead, he ducked down, and they passed without seeing him.
Interesting. He would rather risk walking home naked, with his arms bound behind his back, than risk the humiliation of presenting himself in his condition, to those guys. That was good information to have.
Finally, he began his walk home. He walked along his usual bike path, until he came to the edge of the forest. Then he waited for the sun to finish setting, before crossing the road. This is where Frank picked him up with his camera.
Frank had put on a pair of black warm-up pants and a black jacket, so his body wouldn’t stand out under the street lights. Despite our teen rapist’s vigilance, he never noticed Frank.
Frank and his camera followed the boy up the residential streets, documenting his journey. It was fun to watch him dive into the nearest shrubbery, whenever he spotted a car coming, or someone walking up the sidewalk.
His closest call came, from a man who was walking his dog. The man never saw him, but the dog sure did! It was a big Rottweiler, and it growled menacingly, as it went into the bushes after the naked teen.
The dog got his nose into the boy’s crotch, before the man finally got enough control over his pet, to pull him back out of the bushes. If that Rottweiler had gotten loose, I think the kid would have been dog raped!
With his pale skin shining in the moonlight, our prey was easy for Frank to track and shoot video. The only time he lost him, was when the boy cut through several back yards, because there were so many people out walking up ahead of him. And several had dogs!
Frank knew where the kid was going, of course, so he just intercepted him a couple of blocks closer to his place. Frank’s best shot came as the kid was coming toward him. You could clearly see the heavy chain that was padlocked around his neck, swinging back and forth in front of him.
Then the chain caught on a branch, and pulled him off his feet, knocking the wind out of him. With his hands tied behind his back, it took him several minutes to work the chain loose. After that, he didn’t jog. He also managed to flip the chain back over his shoulder, so it hung behind him.
Finally, our naked little stud arrived at his apartment. Frank’s last shot showed the relief on his face, when he saw his door ajar, and the lights on inside. Still, he poked his head in cautiously. We had a camera pointed right at the door, because we knew this would be a fantastic reaction shot!
While the boy was in school, we had robbed his place of absolutely everything he owned. When he entered, there was no TV. No furniture. Nothing in the kitchen area of his little studio. And no clothes. Not a piece of cloth anywhere. We even took the area rug. The look on his face!
As we knew his hands would be bound behind his back, we thoughtfully left the closet door wide open, so he could see it was empty.
He looked all around in a panic. No dresser, no laundry hamper. He went into the kitchen. All the drawers and cabinets were open. Nothing. I’m sure he had been planning on using something sharp to cut his bonds. But the entire apartment was completely devoid of stuff.
We had his wallet with his debit card and ID. We had absolutely everything he had owned, except for the chain and padlock around his neck. And we had the key for that.
He was afraid to ask those cyclists for help, earlier. Would he go to his landlord, now? We didn’t think so. He’d shown a reluctance for public humiliation already, and he knew his landlord was gay.
In fact, in our long distance observations, it was clear his landlord checked him out whenever he saw the kid, and it was equally clear the kid knew it, and didn’t like it.