Michael froze in fear. What would he say? He hadn't thought of this. Perhaps he could say that a couple of friends left him here as a joke. Perhaps he could claim to be kidnapped and hope no one found his tie-up kit.

Here he was, a thirteen year old boy, completely naked, his hands cuffed behind him, his ankles chained, and his ankles chained to his hands. Blushing to his waist.

* * * * *

Maria was twelve years old. She loved to neck and kiss with boys and engaged in petting regularly. She looked foreward to her first fuck, as she called it. A slim girl of twelve, obviously of hispanic ancestry. Actually her mother was second generation American, the descendant of immigrants from South America somewhere. Her father was caucasion. She had the features of her mother's race predominately, however. Maria was slim, long-legged, with nice breasts for a 12 year old and hips outlined in the too-tight yellow shorts she wore. Her yellow top, sleeveless, exhibited her shape nicely and she knew it.

Maria was here with Rick, a fifteen-year-old 9th grader. He was almost sixteen. Rick was one of the school bullies. He often carried a folding knife, though somehow was never caught at school with it. He took lunch money from smaller kids. He should be a sophomore in high school but had been put back one grade. At five-foot-nine, he was just a little bit stocky, his bone structure more like a man's, his curly dark hair and his fairly muscular but undefined physique made him naturally strong. And he liked to fight if he thought he could win.

Rick had found the shack while smoking in the woods. Rick always had cigarettes, always. Sometimes he'd been seen with a can of beer, or at least that's what they said. He didn't care about his own grades but would often find a smaller kid, a younger kid, easy to do in a junior high school of kids aged twelve to fourteen, and throw away his books, notebooks, homework, etc. before or after beating him up.

So Rick had brought Maria up here for some necking and petting, and perhaps more. Maria stopped, gawking at poor Michael. She might have turned and left in embarassment. She might have rushed in thinking the boy was in trouble. But instead she began laughing uncontrollably, pointing. Rick walked in behind her and just grinned.

"Well what have we here?" he said. "It's Michael Buckley, naked as a fuckin' jaybird." Maria was still giggling but not approaching. "This is great, whoever did it, I'll buy him a beer."

Michael stammered a bit, laying on his belly, trying to hide as much as he could. "Uh, please, can you get me out of this? I . . ."

"Oh no, not you!" Rick said.

"Hey, Rick, buy the boy a beer, he did this himself," Maria said. She was not the nicest girl in school, but certainly not the dumbest. She found the string with the ice. "I bet this is one of the keys to his chain things, cufflinks or whatever they are."

"You do this to yourself, kid? Wait for the ice to melt so you can get the key? It's too high up."

"I think it's supposed to fall down," the girl said, looking at the key and then at the naked boy.

"No, please," Michael pleaded, "I can get loose if you just leave . . ."

"Shut up," Rick said, pulling the boy's hair as he bent over the helpless captive. "Someone else done this. You being initiated into a gang or something? No one does this to themself."

A tear began to fall from Michael's eye. He turned his head away. Maria giggled. Rick grabbed his chains and rolled him onto his side. "Let's see his dick," Rick said. Michael tried to turn back but of course was powerless against even the lightest force. "Shit, no hair. He's just a little boy. A little baby!" Maria giggled again. She sipped on the beercan she was carrying.

"You spoiled our plans, shitwad!" Rick said, punching the kid on the arm twice. "We was gonna make out up here!" The boy started to sob. "Yeah, a crybaby too!"

Michael thought of shouting for help. It might not summon help but it would perhaps run off the two intruders.

"I'm gonna hurt you bad, fuckly-Buckley!" he said.

"Come on, Rick, leave him alone, Maria said. ""He's not doing anything to you."

"Please," Michael pleaded. "Just let me get out of here and you can have the place. Please, just let me . . ."

Rick grabbed the boy's naked balls, tugging. The boy screamed in pain, unable to double over to ease the pressure. Rick punched the kid in the nuts. The boy cried more. Rick got off on being a bully, and punched the boy in the stomach. Michael gasped for air, unable to breathe.

"Hey, Maria, wanna play with his little dick?"

Maria giggled. The boy sobbed as much out of embarassment as pain. Rick slapped his face.

"Look, there's his clothes!" Maria said, pointing to the shelf.

Rick got up. He grinned. He laughed. "All right!" and took the clothes from the shelf. "Hey, Maria, go take these down to the road and drop them off!"

Michael jerked his chains. "Not, please, not that!"

"Do it yourself," she said.

"Monty's got to see this," Rick said. "Hey, Maria, go get Monty."

Michael cried more, terrified. Rick was a terrible bully, but with his sidekick, Monty, a white-trash fourteen-year-old ninth grader, the boy didn't stand a chance of any mercy at all.

"I'm not gonna get Monty. Come on, let the kid go so we can have some fun."

The boy pleaded with his eyes, unable to speak, choking a bit, trying to fill his lungs as Rick punched his stomach again.

"Look, if I go get Monty you gotta promise not to hurt him while I'm gone."

As embarassed as Michael was about having a girl see him naked and chained, he was terrifed of what Rick might do to him alone.

"You better run then," Rick said to Maria. "'cause I ain't gonna wait all fuckin' day! And don't tell him what we got, just tell him I said get out here right now!"

Michael doubted that Maria would make much haste. To his horror, she walked a little closer to where Rick was holding him on his side, and said, "Yeah, OK ... turn him back over so I can see his cute little butt."

Rick did so, roughly. Maria giggled and left the boy with the bully. Rick shouted after her to hurry the fuck up, but Michael couldn't tell if she was running. He was crying too much to answer the taunts that Rick was giving him. Michael would be at Rick's mercy for some time as, he knew, Monty lived in a small scuzzy area of town, known as the mud-hole, several blocks away.

Rick turned him to one side again and smacked his balls once, but didn't seriously hurt him. Instead, he got Michael's clothes, going through the pockets. There was a dollar and some change which of course the bully took. He found the keys, including the house key. He laughed, pocketing them. "When you go home naked you can't get into yer house," he said, recognising the key for what it was. "Too bad you don't have your dad's car keys too. But maybe I'll come into your house some time. Don't bother to lock the doors 'cause I have the fuckin' key.

Michael hadn't thought about that. How on earth would he explain this to his mom? He tried to think of a couple of stories, guessing he'd be believed over the punks. Maybe he could claim that they did this to him. The ice would be melted by then. He'd have to make some details. But first he'd have to get home. And before tha, escape. How would he do that?

Rick walked over to the almost-melted ice, put it on the floor, and stomped it. He held the key in his hand, with the wet strip of cloth tied to it.

"Want this key? Huh, do you? Well, you'll have to suck my dick. I'm gonna make you suck my dick."

"Nooooo!" Michael managed to cry, squirming again, and realized he was crying in front of the bully and the girl, a girl who knew him.

Rick pulled him up. He looked over his chains and figured he could prop the naked boy on his knees. He unzipped his pants, took out his hairy-based cock, which was not hard, and waved it in front of the boy.

"Have you ever tasted a sweeter dick than mine," he began to sing. He shoved it at the boy's face. Michael turned his head and Rick grabbed his hair. Michael fell over and Rick pulled him up. "Better not do that again, fucker," he growled and kicked right at Michael's balls. In that position, his balls weren't a good target, the shoe striking the boy in the lower belly and hitting his pecker. It hurt all the same and the boy cried more, feeling nauseated.

Rick waved and shook his cock at the boy, laughing. He rubbed it on the boy's face, but then put it away. He saw the tackle box. The boy groaned inwardly, wanting to fall over and roll back onto his belly, afraid of what might happen. But he did, in that position, feel the snaphook that held the short chain around his locked anklechain and the handcuff chain, the one that kept his legs bent so he couldn't run or stand. He got his thumb on it, knowing that he could not, naked with his ankles chained only about a foot apart, hope to outrun the bigger and meaner boy. He would save that for later, thinking to keep his thumb on the snaphook so he could at least straighten his legs.

Rick was going through the tackle box. There were strips of cloth, several kinds of rope and clothesline, half a roll of masking tape, a small pocket knife (which Rick pocketed), and another snaphook. He slowly figured out that this belonged to Michael and was teasing him about it when an out-of-breath Maria and a sweating Monty entered the shack.

"Did he hurt you while I was gone?" Maria asked, talking to Michael and looking at Rick. Perhaps she'd be on his side. Or maybe she just didn't like someone breaking a promise to her. Michael, still kneeling, shook his head, wisely he thought, since Rick was looking at him rather threateningly.

Monty, however, just stared at the boy. "What the fuck?" He walked closer. "Shit, Rick, he's fuckin' naked?"

Maria giggled again. "He's tied up too. Or chained."

Rick stood over the boy. "Yeah, and guess what? He did it to himself! Took off his damn clothes and chained himself up like some kinda ... shit, let's kick the shit out of him!"

"No, Rick, don't hurt him."

Maria didn't even like Michael. He was too much of a "little boy" for her tastes. But she didn't want to see him hurt. Even if she did think it's funny to see him chained up naked. She'd have a field day telling all the girls at school and Michael would be a laughing stock for years! But she didn't want to see him hurt.

Monty however walked right up to the boy and kicked him in the chest. The boy gasped for air, crying, his eyesight blurry from tears, his face dirty from dust clinging to his tear-streaked cheeks, falling to his side again and rolling onto his belly and onto his other side, away from them.

Rick kicked his butt, or tried to, the chains in the way. Michael was still holding onto the snaphook, hiding it in one hand, knowing it was his only way to at least straighten his legs. Rick was telling Monty how everything happened and, to show off more to his side-kick, he rolled the kid over again and started smacking his balls. Michael was about to puke. Rick lifted the sobbing naked boy to his knees again and backhanded him hard across the face. The boy would have bruises.

"No, don't hit him there," Maria said, stepping foreward and grabbing Rick's arm. Rick, glancing at his potential necking partner and then at Monty, was not about to be ordered around by a girl. He pushed her away. Showing off to his friend, and not being subservient to some girl, was more important to him than anything right now.

"Fuck you, Maria."

"Let him go."

Monty giggled, holding the boy by the chin rather roughly. "Let's take his clothes and leave him here like this," he said, and punched the boy's face. Michael couldn't tell if he was bleeding, but the punch didn't seem to be all that bad, aside from a shock. But he was still trying to breathe. He was helpless if he couldn't breathe. He was helpless even if he could.

"I'm not staying around to watch this," Maria said, and turned to leave. Rick started to go after her, looked at Monty, and at he glimmer of hope in Michael's face, and was enraged at having to choose between necking and being a "real man", and at having Maria walk out on him. Of course, he blamed it, in his own mind, on Michael.

Maria sauntered away for a bit, then began to run.

"Well what the fuck we gonna do wit' this little twerp, Rick?" Monty asked, grinning.

"We could just give him the keys and leave him his clothes and let him go," Rick teased. "But NO WAY!" And he laughed.

"Leave the fuckin' clothes and take the keys, and some one else can find him," Monty suggested, "or take the fuckin' clothes and leave the keys and maybe he can walk home naked!

"I know!" Rick said, getting down close to where Monty was holding the boy up. "Lets take the clothes AND the keys and even these shittin' little rugs and leave him here.

"Yeah!" Monty said.

Rick was more apt to grab the boy's privates than was Monty. He shoved the kid onto his side and grabbed the boy's circumsized pecker. "Look what a tiny dick! It ain't worth havin'!"

"Yeah, you could cut it off. Do him a favor. Maybe he'll grow a bigger one!"

"Let them find him here with is pecker cut off and bleedin' to death," Rick said. Michael shuddered, about to puke again, trying hard not to. Michael, probably more than Rick, who was two years older and probably never studied a day in his life, knew that the bleeding from such a thing would result in death.

At least he wouldn't be alive to have to explain what happened.

Rick got out his knife. It was a lockblade, with serrations on part of the blade, a knife with a little knob on the blade so it could be opened with the thumb of the same hand that held it. He flicked it open with practiced ease.

Michael knew it was hopeless, but in his panic and fear began to try to open the snap hook and get it off the little chain that kept his legs from straightening. Rick was making carving motions in the air, wondering aloud if he could cut the dick and balls off all in one piece, Monty was laughing, and poor Michael could not get his snap-hook off the chain link. He knew it was open, could feel the tension on the spring as he held it open. He jerked with it and shook it, and the boys laughed at his trying to get out of chains.

And it came loose. He tried to keep his legs bent til the last minute but, as his muscles were tired and cramped, his legs slowly straightened on their own, the boy unable to prevent it.

"Shit, he's gittin' fuckin' loose!" Monty said and both bigger boys pounced on him. Michael was too breathless and crying too hard to beg anymore. He wanted to beg, but was physically unable to.

After a quick inspection, the bullies were satisfied that the only part of the boy's chains that could be unlocked without a key was that one little chain. Rick picked it up and Monty rolled the naked boy onto his back, the boy managing to get his cuffed wrists from under his direct body weight. It would have caused the cuffs to tighten, an added torture he didn't need.

"Ha, that's even better." Rick was inspecting the handcuffs and the chains on the boy's ankles. "Now we can get to his dick 'n nuts easier. Thanks, fuckly-Buckley. You made it easier!

Rick was not about to amputate anything, but he enjoyed the terror, pain, and humiliation he was inflicting on the boy. Getting one of Michael's shoes, he took a shoestring out of it and wrapped it around the boy's penis. Then he got a better idea and, taking it off rather roughly, to Michael's horror, wrapped it around the base of the naked boy's scrotum, rather tightly. Very tightly. The boy howed and gasped in pain. The only reason Michael didn't scream is that he didn't have enough breath. Rick knotted it, clumsily, which put a little more slack into it, so the shoestring wasn't cutting into the tender flesh as much.

The bullies laughed. Made some comments about what they could do. Hang the kid up by his balls. Lead him around by his balls. Monty flicked the boy's already sensitive testes, made even more sensitive by the scrotum being stretched around them.

Michael wished they'd just cut his throat. But instead, they pulled him to his feet. Standing, or at least being held in a standing position, his hands behind his back, his ankles chained, naked, his balls tied up, his wind gone, frightened, humiliated, injured, and blurry-eyed from crying. Rick looked him over again and then got behind him and held his arms.

"Punch him, Monty. He's a real nice punching bag."

Monty was looking up to see if they could tie him up by his neck so they wouldn't have to hold him, when the door opened again.

"All right, that's enough!"

It was Leanna, Maria's aunt. Maria lived many blocks away, past the "mud-hole", as it was called. About a mile and a half. But her aunt, Leanna, lived only two blocks over. Maria was with her, as was Maria's younger sister, Terri. Terri, at eleven, was younger and, in a youthful way, prettier than Maria, she just didn't dress as sexy. Usually. Today she was in a pair of low-rise jeans and a cropped t-shirt.

Rick dropped the boy, crying, sobbing, to the ground. He brandished his knife. Leanna stepped in. Almost six feet tall, blonde (from Maria's father's side of the family), and shapely in her jeans and snug t-shirt, she raised her hand. In it was a baseball bat, an aluminim one. Leanna, 33 years old, was on her company's softball team and was that team's star hitter. She was not afraid of a punky bully with a little knife.

"Stop right now or I'll bash both of you," she said, loudly but under control. Maria peeked in from the doorway, Terri looking under Maria's arm, not knowing what was going on from the part of Maria's explanation she heard. Maria had actually suggested a call to the police, but Leanna, knowing that the call and the response time would be too long, considering what Maria had said, that she grabbed her ball bat, her speed limited only by having to wait for Maria to shout directions to the shack.

Michael still wanted to die.

"Get away from that boy or I'll bash your skull in," Leanna said again.

"You can' hit me, I'm under eighteen," the now-cowardly Rick said. "You'll go to jail."

"You shake that little knife at me again and I'll break your legs," she said. Rick lowered his hand and, at her second demand, dropped it to the floor. Leanna backed out of the doorway, motioning her neices aside, to a safe distance. Maria took her sister's hand and tugged her away, the younger girl wanting to see what was going on.

"This ain't over, fuckly-Buckley. Remember I got your house key!"

"No you don't," Leanna said. "take it out and drop it!"

"I don't know where it is," Rick said defiantly, and Monty chimed in, "Yeah."

Leanna's face reddened. She moved foreward, blocking the entrance. "Then I'll beat it out of you!"

Rick tossed the keys on the floor and, after Leanna backed away, he and Monty took off thru the uncut back lawn, away from the woods, toward the vacant house, and around it, grabbing the "for sale" sign out of the front yard, as if some kind of victory.

Terri had gone into the shack and was kneeling in front of Michael, who, barely aware of it, thought it was Maria. "He's hurt," she said, touching his cheek and shoulder tenderly. "And he's ..." but she didn't say "naked", she just said, "uh, breathing."

Leanna knew she should call an ambulance. There would be so many questions. The boy would be humiliated beyond all endurance. The boy, his nuts tied, his breath knocked out of him several times, sobbing, was barely conscious but Leanna and Maria overestimated his level of consciousness.

"We'll get him home and see if he needs a doctor," she said. "And Maria, I want to know those boys' names and everything about them." Leanna's cousin was a sergeant on the local police force.

"We can't take him home like that, what will his mom and dad say, you know, if we bring him home ... with no clothes," Terri was saying, still caressing the boy's cheek. Terri looked like she wanted to kiss him.

"To MY home, Leanna said. It was early afternoon. For some reason, Leanna was determined to save the boy any more humiliation. It seemed to be her primary goal. "You girls stay here. I'll get my car."

Although Rick had taken the key from the ice and the key from the floor, he'd left behind the boy's Volkswagen key chain with house key, handcuff key, and padlock key. While Maria was, a little squeamishly, trying to get the shoestring off the boy's balls, Terri pocketed the set of keys.

It didn't take Leanna long to get her car in the driveway of the house for sale. It was a short walk, the boy wrapped in a sheet and still chained and handcuffed, to the car and a short drive to Leanna's garage.