Gracchus

Homework

Chapter 1

He'd seen Irene several times at school: Irene was in the 7th grade where Matt was in the 8th. Irene had straight long red hair and always wore short skirts, and always had that 'I'm better than you' attitude except when she was around her friends, who were mostly older and mostly male. Irene had that 'rough girl' look, smoked cigarettes, and used profanity freely. She was tall and slim, with little but firm boobs (she'd been sent home more than once for not wearing a bra), and always wore her long red hair straight.

Matt, perhaps only 2 inches [5 cm] taller than Irene, slim, wearing glasses since grade school, was just the opposite. He did his homework, wore conservative (for a junior high school boy) clothes, kept his brown hair clean-cut (at the insistance of his parents), and was almost universally ignored by his classmates, with few exceptions, not all of them pleasant.

But one day, Irene had approached him, invited him (more like instructed him) to come to her house. "Listen, you're smart. Maybe you can come over Saturday and help me do some homework."

Matt agreed, not really knowing why, but figured she must be very desperate indeed to have him help her. Perhaps she was about to be flunked, which would require her to repeat a grade or, worse, attend summer school.

Now the slender boy stood at her house. It was a small house, white aluminum siding, with a gray roof. It was obviously not kept in repair, probably because Irene's mom was too busy chasing boyfriends of her own. Irene's father, he had learned, ran off when she was a baby.

Irene opened the door and Matt's eyes popped open. He tried not to look her up and down. She was wearing shorts, showing off her long thin legs. The shorts were hip-huggers, low on the hips. Her entire waist and belly were exposed; the top she wore was a cropped t-shirt which fit snugly and was cut off halfway between her breasts and her waist. She was wearing a bra today, visible under the light blue shirt. He did not notice her shoes.

"Come in," Irene said, turning her back and walking, her small butt outlined nicely by the shorts. Matt gulped and entered, only now considering what he would say to her mother. "Mom's not home today, she's at work," Irene said flatly, and she led Matt to her room.

Irene's room was just a bedroom, with two windows, both old-fashioned sash-type, with screens in them. The curtains were old, and closed; apparently Irene liked it dark in the room. There was a bed, a dresser, a closet, and a small table with two chairs. There was one poster on the wall, some hairy rock star Matt couldn't identify. The room smelled of cigarette smoke. There were clothes on the floor, and some of them were underclothes which Matt tried to ignore. She, as an afterthought, kicked them under her bed. Her closet, the door open, was stuffed with colorful (but mostly short or scanty) clothes.

"Here," Irene said, "figure this out." She put down a book on the table, with a note obviously not in her handwriting outlining a rather extensive homework assignment. Matt looked at the book, and at her tummy, and at the book again, sitting in a chair and trying to be detached, wishing he'd not come. There were a lot of boys in school who would LOVE to be alone in a room with Irene, and Matt was not one of them. She sat next to him, a little too close, and lit a cigarette.

Matt looked over the assignment, simple enough, especially since he'd had the same class last year and still had his notes. "You wouldn't happen to have a typewriter here would you?" he asked.

"Yeah, Mom's got one. She never uses it. Be right back." Irene snuffed out the cigarette in an ashtray and left the room. She came back a few minutes later carrying a typewriter which she placed in front of him. "Fuckin' thing's a piece of shit, Mom says."

"Do you know how to type?" Matt asked.

"Hell no."

"If you turn this in, won't the teachers expect 3;"

"Naw, I'll copy it later in my own handwriting. Make sure you mis-spell a couple of words and don't do anything fancy or use big words, or she'll know it wasn't me."

Matt sighed and began to type on notebook paper 3; the only kind that was available. Oh well, she's gonna copy it over anyway. He resigned himself to the fact that he was doing someone else's homework. Well, maybe he'd get another good look at Irene's skinny tummy, and if she bent over, a look at her firm little boobies. Irene, he reminded himself, had flunked one grade already; she was his age and should be in his class.

Matt finished the first part quickly, since he didn't have to explain anything to Irene. Irene, in fact, didn't want to be taught anything; all she wanted was a paper to hand in. They took a break. She offered him a cigarette; he declined. She offered him a Coke, he accepted. She brought it to him in a can. Then he finished the assignment, showing her how she should put her name at the top of the paper and how she should arrange it. She simply took the papers, put them on a dresser, and said "OK." Not "thanks" or "thank you." As if anyone who went to school to LEARN was merely her servant, a nerd who deserved no acknowledgement at all. Unless it was to poke fun at him. Like many of her ilk did.

He stood up and she looked at him, and at the clock. "Mom's gonna be gone all day. Want another drink?"

He thought about it and then thought maybe it might be useful having this girl for a friend. She might put in a good word with some other girls for him, or maybe talk the older, bigger boys into not picking on him so much. So he accepted, and she brought him another Coke, but this time in a large plastic glass.

As she walked in, she stumbled over some shoes or something on the floor. The Coke went right down his back, soaking his light blue shirt. He stood up, surprised, and she apologized. "I'm sorry, gosh, I ruined your shirt. Oh, you'll be all sticky. Here, take it off and I'll wash it out"

He would not have expected it. For her to say "oh, shit" and hand him the remainder of the drink would have been more like it. But she was apologizing and even unbuttoning the shirt for him. He put one hand up, as if to stop her, but she insisted. "Here, let me take it and wash it, so you won't be all sticky. If I get it washed fast, it won't stain."

She took his shirt down to the basement, to the laundry room. He felt silly standing there with his shirt off, and went to the bathroom, to wash his back off with a wet washcloth. He used the toilet, which wasn't exactly filthy, but wasn't clean either. He was almost afraid to flush. When he came out, she was in her room looking over the typewritten report. She looked up.

"You know, you look pretty cute with your shirt off," she said. "Come here."

Matt blushed. "Aw, I always thought I was too skinny," he said. In fact, he was slim and lean, but because of shoveling walkways in the winter and cutting grass in the summer, he had what his mom called 'boy-muscles' and was actually pretty shapely. Not a damn hair on his chest or belly or armpits; not one damned pubic hair. He wished he had at least SOME indication of manhood, like many (most) of the boys in his Junior High School. Next year he'd have to go to Gym Class, and shower with other boys, in the 9th grade. He hoped he had some hair somewhere, lest he get further teased or even roughed up by the jock-mentality.

Irene stood right in front of him, staring at his chest. "Pretty cute. Turn around."

"Why?"

"Oh, come on, don't be embarassed, you're a cute boy. Turn around and let me see you. I like boys with their shirts off."

After looking him over again, she got close to him. He was excited; the thought of being this close to a girl, any girl, especially dressed the way Irene was, was a matter of fantasy for him. He wanted to put his hands on her bare waist.

"You know what I REALLY like?" she asked. He shook his head. She got closer, within inchest of him, putting a hand on his bare rib cage and saying in a low voice: "I like to see boys with their shirts off and with their hands tied behind their backs."

He just looked into her bluish eyes through his glasses. "Uh, yeah, uh 3;" he stammered. She looked down at his chest again.

"Really," she said. "You know, like Johnny Quest in the cartoons, or Tarzan's boy 3; or even Tarzan. Captured and with no shirt. I'd really like to see a boy with his shirt off and his hands tied behind him. It would be worth 3; maybe 3; a kiss. Or two."

Matt hesitated. But a moment later, he was standing, shirtless, his back to her, his wrists crossed behind his back, and she using a length of clothesline to tie them together. She started over once, apparently not satisfied with what she was doing.

"You don't have to do it for real, you know," Matt said. "Yeah, but I want it to at least LOOK real, so you don't pull out right away. I never tied up a boy before, so gimme a break."

She finally turned him around. He felt pretty silly and helpless 3; and excited 3; with his hands behind his back and his shirt off. She began to stroke his chest. He, embarassed, backed away. She actually smiled, not a sweet smile or a happy smile, but a mean smile, and he began to get worried. What if one of her punk boyfriends came over? He began to struggle. She seemed delighted when he couldn't get his wrists free, and he knew from childhood games a few years ago that his arms were too short for him to get his hands in front of him by slipping them over his butt and stepping through.

"Oh, you look so cute that way," she said. "I love a boy tied up with his shirt off." And she began to turn him, pressing him backwards until he was against her bed, pressing him down to is and rubbing his chest and belly. She looked at the clock again. "You're like 3; my prisoner! Yeah, that's is. My prisoner. You can't run away like THAT!"

True, he thought. In this neighborhood, he'd have to free his hands quickly and hope no one noticed that his shirt was off. But hopes of escape, if hopes they were, were further decreased when she pulled off his sneakers.

"Hey!" he said. "Oh, hush 3; you can't have your shoes on the bed can you?"

"Uh, yeah, I guess not 3; but why don't you just 3;"

She cut him short by pulling off his socks too. Then she scooted up over him and leaned over and kissed his lips quickly. "I like you like this. You're so 3; so helpless! Yeah. Like, I can do what I want with you."

"Yeah, why don't you untie my hands now?" he said, obviously nervous realizing he was stuck. He looked up hopefully. "I 3; I want to put my arms around you."

"Oh no you don't. You don't get your hands free. Not yet. I like you this way." Another look at the clock. What was she waiting for? She stroked his chest some more which embarassed and excited him at the same time 3; and then there were steps in the hallway. He looked up just as Mindy came in.

Irene sat back. "Here he is, Mindy. All yours, helpless like you wanted."

Matt wanted to crawl under the bed. Here was Mindy Lincoln, cute slim little Mindy, 12 years old, 7th grader, almost no boobs, short dark hair, wearing tight little hip-hugger jeans and a cropped tank top, the girl he'd talked to a couple of times in class, a girl who was usually very quiet, made reasonably good grades. What was she doing here in Irene's house? But then, what was Matt doing here, too?

Mindy looked at him. "You sure he can't get loose?" she asked.

"If he could get loose, he would have done it by now," replied Irene. Here he is, just like you wanted. No shirt, hands tied behind his back. And I even got my homework done.

Apparently these two had some arrangement. He'd do Irene's homework, she'd get him tied up 3; with his shirt off 3; and Mindy would get to see him. Matt kinda liked Mindy, never really thinking he'd get to talk to her or go walking with her or anything. He really thought her boobs weren't big enough, though she had a cute face and pretty hair.

So, apparently, it was MINDY who liked boys 3; at least this boy 3;tied up with his shirt off. He never would have guessed.

Mindy wasted no time, crawling onto the bed with him and immediately running her hands over his chest. "You can try to get loose if you want, Matt," Mindy instructed, "but don't try to kick or fight, because 3; because 3;"

Irene interjected: "Because you're helpless like that and we can get your BALLS!" She put her hand on his pants, over his nuts, not gently, which made Matt worry even more and, to the delight of the girls, squirm with his helpless hands. He was of course quite helpless with his hands behind him, and barefoot, he didn't think he'd get far anyway.

Irene whispered to Mindy something while Mindy was kneeling next to Matt on the bed, stroking his chest, fascinated with the tied-up shirtless boy. At first Mindy shook her head, but Irene whispered something else and then said "Come on, then he'll be all yours."

Mindy laid across Matt's chest. Fingers went for his belt buckle. "NO, no, not that! Come on, not my pants!" Matt said, struggling, but Irene had his pants off. Matt was wearing those stupid white briefs that boys often wear, the ones with the fly in the front that no one used (every boy Matt knew, including himself, just pulled them down and peed over the top), the ones that fit kinda baggy and never looked good like girl's underwear. At least he wished he'd had underwear like Ben Grimm on the Fantastic Four wore, blue stretchy ones that could pass for olympic style swimming trunks.

Matt squirmed and begged and even faked a bit of laughter as his pants went down his legs and off his bare feet. But when Irene's hands went for his briefs, and Mindy laid across his bare chest (which excited him at the same time he was horrified at being stripped by and in front of two girls), he tried to sit up and began to kick with his legs. A set of fingers around his balls caused him to freeze; even at 13, Matt knew how vulnerable a boy's balls are.

"OK, Mindy, he's nekkid," Irene said. She laughed. "He's not even got any hair down there! You sure you want him?"

Mindy leaned up and began kissing Matt's face. "Yes, he's the one I want."

"Want me to tie his feet?"

Matt looked around. "NO, no more!"

Mindy giggled. "Yes, go ahead 3; I can always untie them later." She looked at Matt and kissed his chest. "But not your hands. Your hands stay BEHIND you!"

A moment later, Matt was laying completely naked on a bed, hands tied behind his back, ankles tied together, and four young female hands stroking his naked body. Irene looked at the clock and stood up, pushing her feet into some shoes.

"OK, I gotta go now. Remember, Mom comes back at nine, so you better have him out of here by then."

Matt looked from one girl to the other, hands still trying to come around to his front, redfaced and very frightened, when Irene picked up her little purse with the long strap and left the room. A moment later, the door to the house slammed. He was alone with Mindy, who was already exploring his young helpless body.

Chapter 2

Mindy leaned over Matt, straddling his hips. At least she wasn't looking at his private parts. She was running her hands on his chest. "I've wanted you like this since two years ago, you know?" She said. "I've had a crush on you. I've wanted to hug you and kiss you and have you with your shirt off. But even last year I was afraid that if I tried it you'd either make fun of me or tell on me or maybe even try to do somethhing I don't want to do."

Matt was calming down, his fingers still working, trying to find a knot that Irene had so carefully placed out of reach. "Come on, Mindy, let me go please 3; I'm 3; I'm embarassed being all naked like this 3;"

Mindy put a hand over his mouth, warning him, and she continued: "Now I got you and I can do anything I want 3; even if YOU don't want to!" She smiled and leaned down and kissed his bare chest again. And again. And a third time. And, to Matt's humiliation, he felt himself starting to get a stiffy.

Matt often got a stiffy, a hard on, a boner, wood, without any reason at all. Sometimes in class. Sometimes at home. He woke up with one most mornings and his mother told him (when he was young) that it was because it was full of pee. Bullshit. He knew the difference between a bladder full of pee and a penis full of blood. But the erections often occurred without any reason at all 3; and he had to avoid being embarassed by them. He tried to concentrate on freeing himself, and noticed then that his clothes were missing.

"Where are my clothes?" he asked, Mindy's hand still covering his mouth.

She smiled and said "Where you won't find them until I'm ready to let you go."

Matt would have felt just a little less helpless had he known where his clothes were. Then he felt it: Mindy's hand on his balls again. He never would have guessed this of Mindy: She was in 7th grade where he was in 8th, but had a reputation of being very smart. Almost straight-A student. And always very proper, hanging out with similar girls, never very many friends around at a time, never with boys. But she was downright naughty!

Perhaps the only person in the school who made better grades than Mindy was Matt himself, though it was hard to tell because they were in different grades. He looked at Mindy's body in the tight cropped tank top 3; no bra, her small half-lemon breasts topped by nice pokey little nipples. Her tummy was bare and when she sat upright, quite flat. He'd never seen her like this before as she always wore fairly conservative clothes to school: slacks, nice blouses or tops, occasionally a dress.

Matt came back to reality when the hand closed around his hairless little sac. "No, please Mindy, don't hurt me, please?"

Mindy smiled. "Oh, I could hurt you, after all, you're all tied up naked. I can't believe Irene talked you into taking off your clothes." Mindy was moving off him now, ready to feast on his young body. Matt was also embarassed because, though he was slim and shapely and cute, he had no pubic hair. Next year, in the 9th grade, he'd have to go to gym class and he hoped he'd have hair by then. He heard stories about boys who didn't have any pubes by age 14.

"Well, she didn't exactly 3; I mean, she tricked me." He told her, she patiently listening and stroking his skin, about the drink spilled on his shirt, the hand-tying 3; later the stripping. "Please, Mindy, I'll do whatever you want 3; just let me have my hands."

"Ohhhh no! Not your hands! If you had your hands you could 3; well, let's just say I'd lose my advantage." Mindy then looked down at Matt's circumsized penis. It was stiff and he could do nothing about it. All of five inches [12½ cm] long, swollen, and outside of pictures the first one Mindy had ever seen. Except in her dreams.

"Oh, you are soooo cute like this. Hmmmmm you got stiff for me already."

"Uh, not really for 3;"

"And you don't have all that nasty hair. Like guys in the pictures. Though I wish you had some more muscles. But for 13 you have nice muscles. Hmmmm I just want to kiss you all over and rub on you 3;"

Mindy climbed off him without a word. She grabbed his balls one more time, rather roughly, hurting some; Matt jerked but tried not to make a big deal out of it. "I'll be right back. If you fall off the bed while I'm gone, I'll hurt your nuts, understand?"

She left. Matt, alone for the first time, lifted his legs, trying to get his hands over his butt so he could get them in front. But either the rope was tied too high on his wrists, or his arms were too short, or both. He was stuck. He tried several times, trying not to make much noise. His dick was still erect, too, to make it worse, and, when he heard her coming, he rolled onto his belly to hide it. Mindy came in to see Matt, naked, wrists crossed and tied at the small of his back, his ankles tied, and his cute little butt just waiting to be patted, which of course she did.

Mindy had, of course, gone to change clothes. She was wearing now a little short sheer robe, with 3/4 length sleeves, light blue with green patterns. It looked and felt like satin or silk. Her legs were smooth and shapely, her little nipples poking thru the material, the sash tied high on her waist.

"Hey, come on, let me go 3;"

"I told you, you're all mine now. What a cute bottom!" Mindy turned him over and, of course, he didn't really resist, knowing how helpless he was. He also knew that unless he was untied or found something very sharp, he was not getting loose. She leaned over him and hugged him to her chest, kissing his lips gently with her own lips together, like most 12 year old girls would. He felt her tiny but firm breasts rubbing his chest through the silky material of the robe and his dick just got harder and harder. He didn't know whether he wanted to jack it off or crawl under the bed and hide.

And Mindy just wouldn't shut up, talking all the time, telling him (between kisses) how sweet and naked and helpless he was, how she loved his muscles and his slim body and his pretty chest and his hairless balls. She fondled his balls more than his dick, which he though was unusual, except of course that she probably wanted to use the balls to control him.

She leaned over him again, the robe coming open some in the front. He looked down and could see her tiny firm boobies, and couldn't believe how attractive he found them, usually thinking that boob would have to be big enough for cleavage to be acceptable on a girl.

"Now, Matt, I'm going to untie your legs. Not your hands! And you're going to do what I say. Remember that I can still get your balls."

Matt nodded. In a moment, his ankles were untied and she was sitting beside him stroking his chest. She leaned over for another kiss, holding it longer this time, as if demanding he return it. He did and found it delightful. He wished she would pucker her lips a bit more. "Now you're just gonna lay there. I'm gonna do something for you that every boy in the school would like to have. I'm going to suck on your pretty naked dick."

Matt of course had heard about blowjobs, both as erotica and as insults. He also knew that if he had an orgasm, he'd cum. He'd just started having wet orgasms last year, to his consternation as rubbing his pants would make him leave yellow stains on his underwear near the top. His mother even mentioned it to him and of course he'd just say he had to go so bad and so fast he dripped in them. He hoped she believed him. After that he'd be sure he had something to catch the semen.

"No, wait, please Mindy, not that 3; I mean, what happens when 3; when 3;"

"When you cum? Well, that's exactly what I want you to do. I want to see it and taste it. I've read all about it 3; you're not the only kid who can read you know 3; and I 3; well, let's just say that you better co-operate." She put her fingers around his balls again as he was about to try to sit up. He collapsed back into the bed, his wrists crossed at the small of his back under him, really not uncomfortable.

She hesitated and stroked his pecker a few times, then put her mouth around it. He said "oh" "careful" a few times when her teeth scraped his boy-cock, but she seemed to really be interested. Perhaps she'd read more than just the clinical aspects of fellatio, too 3; her tongue explored the rim under the head of his penis and she moved her head up and down over him. He could not stand it any more and exploded after only two or three minutes.

She swallowed it. It wasn't much. Maybe a table-spoon full or a little more. She made a face at the taste but didn't comment. She started kissing all over his body now, her robe unfastened in front, and when she got up to his face she slipped the robe off 3; she was wearing a pair of light green bikini panties that were almost strings on the sides. Her nipples rubbed his chest and he squirmed, horny, delighted, nervous, and quite embarassed.

"We've got hours," she told him, "and in a little bit I'll get you hard again and you're going to get 3; well, I'm gonna have my way with you. I'm gonna rape you!"

How could a girl rape a boy? Oh no, she's not going to stick something in my butt! He almost said something but decided he'd give her no ideas. Sure enough, she was really ravishing his young smooth body, kissing and rubbing all over, until she slipped out of the panty. She had some dark, thin, soft fluffy hair at the junction of her thighs, not a lot, but enough to make him even more embarassed that he had no pubes.

"You like my pussy?" she asked. Matt didn't answer. He didn't like this 3; it was too soon. And he couldn't believe sweet Mindy Lincoln was talking about pussies and stiffies and balls and such. "I got hair just a few months ago. I don't like it. I might shave it off and keep it shaved, like when girls shave their legs and armpits." She seemed to have no sense of embarassment at all. She then started rubbing her pussy on his hardening boy-cock again. "MMMmmm this is going to feel good. You know, Matt, you're gonna be my first. I'm glad it's you. I've been using one of Irene's dildos for months now 3; now I get the real thing. Get good and stiff for me!"

Matt squirmed, halfheartedly, torn between the possibility of being the first of his friends to actually have sex (of course he'd have the good taste, or the embarassment, not to mention it to them) and being so humiliated by this girl who had him naked in her complete control. With some clumsy struggling, and a few warnings about his helplessly exposed defenseless balls, she managed to straddle him, lock her ankles under his, and insert his cock into her wet pussy. He was surprised at how wet she was. He'd heard about girls getting wet 3;for lubrication 3; but that was all clinical, out of science-like books.

She rode him, naked on top of him, leaning over to rub her breasts to his face, but warning him not to bite or suck on them. She told him that a young girl's breasts are very tender and easily hurt 3; like a boy's balls 3; and he'd better not do anything to them but kiss them. She demanded, and got, kisses though which drove her to ride him faster. He slipped out a few times but she shoved him right back into her. No blood. She must have lost her hymen exercising or riding horses or maybe with that nasty Irene's dildo. Actually, he'd dreaded the bloody part more than anything, having read some pretty scary stuff about it.

He relaxed too, believing (as she was telling the truth) that he really was her first. She was, of course, his. No worries about disease then 3; but what 3; oh-shit-what-if-she-gets-pregnant-oh-no-oh-damn.

"Mindy, please, stop before 3; before 3;"

"Before you cum, Mattie? Oh, but I want you to. And don't worry, I've been on the pill for almost two years now because of menstrual cramps." She squirmed around on top of him a few times and then said "but you better not cum yet. I want to have my first orgasm my first time with my first boy 3; and if I don't I swear I'll tie your balls up and beat them with 3; with your own shoe!"

Matt gulped and lay there, not moving much himself, hoping not to cum. If he did, he'd just keep moving some to stay hard, like he sometimes did when he humped his bed late at night 3; and have another orgasm without stopping or getting soft. He had no idea how lucky he was to be able to do that 3; he had no hint that this ability, if it lasted into adulthood, would make him an extreemly satisfying lover some day.

Mindy apparently had planned this out well, and moved very carefully, almost exactly, holding on with her ankles and not allowing him to slip out 3; and finally she tilted her head back and he body stiffened and she actually cried out 3; "ohhhhhh oh oh oh oh oh!"

He thought she'd been hurt. Shouting during orgasm was something he'd not heard about. But in a moment he realized she'd cum and he let himself go again, feeling as if his balls were being sucked through his penis and out into her. She collapsed on top of his helpless naked body and then kissed him and smiled.

"All right my naked prisoner. Now it's time for the hard part."

Chapter 3

Matt lay on his back, naked, his wrists still crossed and securely tied behind his back. Mindy's last comment didn't seem to register. She climbed off him, grabbed a small cloth she had handy and wiped herself off, then wiped off his genitals. He looked up finally, spent, his stiffy subsiding. Mindy once again looked over his 13 year old body: slim, some lean shapely boy-muscle from exercise. No body hair at all. Slim hips. Pretty chest. She liked his chest and bent over and started kissing it, her little breasts rubbing on his flat tummy.

Mindy's slim body lay across his. He opened his eyes, expecting, and getting, a brief kiss. Mindy repeated: "Now comes the hard part."

"What do you mean?" Matt wanted to put his arms around the girl but, of course, as her prisoner, he was unable to. He felt her fingers go around his balls, in preparation for some demand or other, or perhaps just a reminder of how helpless he was.

"It's getting close to time for Irene's mom to come home," Mindy said. Matt had almost forgotten that they were at Irene's house, where he had been tricked first into taking off his shirt, then into having his hands tied behind him, and then stripped and given, as some kind of gift, to 12 year old Mindy by the relatively sleezy Irene. Matt did not want Irene to come home with him still like this; he was afraid of her, especially in his current condition.

"You gotta untie my hands and let me get dressed 3;"

Mindy tightened her grip. "Not so fast, captive-boy. First I gotta tell you the rules. Remember, I can still hurt your balls."

Matt nodded as she twisted just a bit, painfully, to drive home her point. Perhaps too painfully; Matt nearly doubled up. Mindy just smiled, enjoying the situation. She explained that she was going to take Matt somewhere, that he was still her prisoner, and that if he didn't cooperate, he'd get hurt. Moreover, Irene or her mother would soon be there and Matt certainly didn't want that, did he? Matt agreed, once again asking for his hands to be untied. Of course, Mindy was not about to give up her greatest control over him.

Mindy got up, warning him to stay there. He turned onto his side, not really able to hide anything. Mindy put on her clothes, her hip-hugger pants and her little top and her shoes and socks, leaving poor Matt naked.

Amid his protests, and one brief episode of almost-resistance, Mindy got from her bag a long cord, like a bootlace. She carefully but snugly tied around the base of Matt's hairless scrotum, tying it underneath, moving his pecker out of the way and almost causing him to get another stiffy. When she was sure that it would not slip off, and telling Matt to shut up (he was begging her to remove the cord), she finally allowed him to stand. She looked over his body again and told him that he'd better cooperate unless he wanted to be led by his balls into the street naked. Matt quickly reassured her in his 13 year old way that he would certainly comply.

Then came the Polaroid Square Shooter from her bag. Matt begged and turned this way and that, Mindy telling him to stand still. "No, please, I'll do what you want, just don't take my picture like this!"

Mindy kicked his balls, lightly, but enough to make him crumple to the floor. His tied balls made the kick all the more painful; a small flick of the finger would have done. But Mindy had wanted, just once, to kick a boy there, and this, she decided, was the time.

When Matt could stand again, she wiped his tears, kissed him, and forced him to pose, naked, for eight pictures. From the front, from the side, from the back, stopping to change the flashcube. When the film packet was empty, she laid the pictures on the bed so he could see them. It was seven o'clock now, and Matt was begging her to hurry up and get him out of there. Mindy had assured the boy that if he tried to get away, one or more of those pictures would be posted around their Junior High School, where certain girls, and boys, would find them.

Mindy helped him get dressed. Or rather, dressed him mostly, since he was unable to use his hands. He tried once to free his hands again; the knot was tied on the back of a wrist where his fingers would not reach. He remained helpless as she put on his briefs, then his pants, then his socks and shoes, tying the shoes loosely. The cord from his balls had been placed between his thighs and up and over the waistband of his briefs, and of his pants. She fooled around with the belt in his pants and finally got it buckled. Standing behind him, she could, she told him, demonstrating lightly, yank the cord and cause him severe pain.

"But what about my shirt?"

"Who cares about your stupid shirt? I love boys with their shirts off. I'll just leave it here. Maybe Irene will find it and bring it to school."

Matt was led outside, hands still tied. No one was on the street. They walked through the ally, Matt being wisely quiet so as not to attract any attention, hoping no one saw him like this: shirtless, hands tied behind him, and a string or cord sticking out of the back of his pants, now tied to the clothesline around his wrists. If he tried to move his arms much, he'd pull his own tender little balls. Mindy of course held, casually, the end of the cord, speaking quietly for the same reason.

"I'm going to take you somewhere for a surprise. You're my first, you know. That makes it special, for both of us. Don't worry, you'll find out where soon enough. Are you cold without your shirt? Too bad." She stroked his pretty chest. "I love having you like this." She tugged very gently on the cord, pulling his hands and, of course, his balls. He was uncomfortable with the string in his buttcrack, and of course his balls hurt and he was walking rather slowly. Running was out of the question. At least he had his pants on!

"Mindy, please, untie my hands 3; I 3; I want to put my arms around you."

"Nice try, Mattie." She giggled.

"But I gotta go home soon"

"No you don't. I know your dad is working night shift and that your mom is visiting your Aunt Boobie or whoever."

"But your parents are still home," Matt argued. "You can't take me home like this."

"I can do whatever I want. But you're not coming to my house. You're coming somewhere else 3; somewhere where we can play."

They walked, still speaking in almost-whispers, several blocks. It was just getting dark. A lawn mower in the distance had shut off. A car zoomed past on the next street. Mindy turned at a garage and led him into the side door of it, across the garage, and into a house.

"Where are we?"

"We're going to let you help me with MY homework," she giggled.

They walked into the kitchen of the house, Matt wanting to run away so bad he was about to cry again, frightened. And then someone came into the kitchen: a man, probably about 40, almost six feet [1.80 m] tall, with very dark hair and fairly pale skin. He was wearing a pair of green pants, army pants, fatigue pants they were called, with a cloth black belt with a brass buckle. He was barefoot. He wore no shirt. His hairless chest was lean and muscular, like Matt's might someday be, obviously he exercised a lot or lifted weights. He had pretty big muscles in his arms. His shoulders were muscular. He could have been Batman or Superman with that body. He looked at the kids and smiled.

"Matt, meet Gregory. He's the nice man who's going to let us use his house."

Matt gulped audibly.

Chapter 4

Matt began to fidget with his fingers again, glad he at least had his pants and shoes on, wishing for a shirt, wishing more his hands were free or the cord wasn't tied to his balls. The man approached Matt and looked him over, smiling, obviously liking what he saw. Then he kissed Mindy on the cheek.

"Well, you're right 3; he certainly is cute," the man, Gregory, said.

Matt turned to Mindy 3; "Please, Mindy, please, let me out of here."

"Not yet, Matt 3; there's a lot more fun for you. But first we have to explain a few things to you."

They led Matt, who didn't resist, given that his hands were tied behind him and that a cord, tied around his hairless balls and leading up and out the back of his waistband, tied to his hands was being held by Mindy who seemed a little too eager to yank it. They led him into another room, and through it, and into another. It was probably a bedroom, but had no bed in it. Just carpet on the floor and two poles at one end, next to the heavily curtained window, about 3 feet [90 cm] from the wall, about 3 feet [90 cm] apart. The carpet on the floor was unusually thick and soft, as if it had much padding under it. Even the bases of the poles were sunk deeply into the carpet somehow. Mindy told Matt to kneel and, giving him a little slack on the cord, and a look that said 'you'd better do it', allowed him to do so. It wasn't easy, because every time he bent at the waist, the cord tightened. There was a box behind one of the poles, a cardboard box.

Matt was fighting back tears and, as a result, was not very verbal. Mindy began:

"If you ever want to go home again, if you ever want to be able to go to school again without people teasing you about the pictures I took, if you want your house and family to be safe, you'll co-operate. Understand?"

Matt grew nearly furious 3; but realized, after thinking, that they were right. He was essentially kidnapped, and his safety would be dependant upon these people. He didn't know who they were and wondered how he'd ever report it 3; if he ever reported it. He would worry about that later 3; right now he would get through this thing and only prayed he wouldn't be injured too badly. He nodded.

Matt didn't even protest when the man, from behind him, helped him to lay down, his hands going all over Matt's upper body, stroking and fondling and caressing the boy's skin. Mindy deprived him of his pants, shoes, socks, and underwear and, thankfully, with a little painful fumbling, untied the cord from his balls. Matt signed audibly.

Mindy kissed him and stood up. Matt, naked, hands still tied behind his back, looked at her, afraid she was leaving 3; and she did. Gregory was pressing on his chest with one hand, preventing him from standing 3;

Gregory sat next to the boy, grabbing his balls.

"You are mine now, boy. What did she call you, Matt?"

The boy nodded.

"Well, Matt, you are MINE now, and there's nothing you can do about it."

"Please don't hurt me"

"Shut up."

The man ran his hands all over Matt, rolling him over, laughing when Matt tried to get his hands into play, and fondled his little buttcheeks. He rolled the boy over again and began to kiss and nibble all over Matt's body 3; holding the boy securely and threatening, with his fingers, the boy's little bald balls. He feasted on the boy's chest, tummy, waist, thighs, buttcheeks, and occasionally the boy's hairless circumsized pecker, as the boy wept quietly, more afraid than he'd ever been in his life.

Finally the man stood the boy up and took him over to the poles. From a box he took some ropes and, warning the boy not to move, he tied the boy's bound wrists to the pole, then the boy's legs just above the knees, then pulled the boy's arms back and, just above the elbows, tied his arms to the pole. Poor Matt, naked, could not bend over, sit or squat, cover the front of his body in any way, or turn around. He was forced to stand there like that. The man then stepped back. Mindy approached, with, horror of horrors, that girl Irene, the one who got him into this in the first place. Irene was smoking a cigarette, and had changed into a tank top and a short red skirt.

"Oh, Matt, you're sooooo cute like that," Mindy said, hugging him and giving him a quick kiss on the cheek. She stepped back and without warning Irene raised her left foot, kicking the boy's poor defenseless balls.

"Ohhhhhhhhhhh" Matt said, trying to bend over but unable to, nausea covering him in waves, tears coming from his eyes as much from fear as from pain.

Worst, Mindy, whom he thought maybe liked him a little, had betrayed him. He was her first, and she his 3; he thought that might mean something special. She was a smart girl, made good grades, was a model student, unlike that nasty Irene. Mindy and the man left, leaving him alone now with Irene.

"Well, Mattie, did Mindy take your cherry? I bet she raped the shit out of you. Well, now it's MY turn. Only you're not quite my type 3;"

"Please, please untie me and give me my clothes, please!" Matt then notice that Mindy had taken his clothes with her, which made him even more nervous.

"No clothes for you 3; you're gonna be a slave boy!" Irene said, and grabbed his balls roughly. "Now, I'm gonna have fun with you, then I'm gonna find me a REAL man to fuck." And she squeezed his balls, laughing at him trying to squirm, unable to really speak, crying, naked and helpless and in pain.

Irene took a cloth she got from somewhere and blindfolded him tightly with it. She ignored his pleas and cries as she tied something around his balls again, tighter than Mindy had. The skin of his scrotum was stretched tightly over his testicles, and when she flicked them with her fingers, it hurt like hell.

"You fuckin' nerd! I'm gonna hurt you bad!" She smacked his balls, and his face, and punched him in the stomach, knocking the wind out of him. He was struggling to inhale, almost ready to pass out. But then he felt fingers on him, hands, holding him, more than two hands. He was being untied from the pole but, even when his legs were free, his hands were still tied behind his back just as Irene had tied them hours before.

He was rolled onto his stomach. The hands that held him, and the chest against which he was pressed, were those of Gregory, who had apparently gotten into the act. The girls giggled and laughed as Gregory pulled Matt up and shoved a big hard cock into his face.

"Suck," commanded the man. Matt had no idea how to suck a cock but with a little coaching from the giggling girls 3; and some encouragement from the cord tied around his aching balls 3; put his mouth around the member, huge by comparison to his own, and the man essentially raped his face, causing him to choke and gag frequently. The boy could barely breathe.

"Get it wet, boy! You'll be sorry if you don't."

Matt had an idea what the man meant. He was inexperienced but read everything he got his hands on, including stuff about sex. He tried to generate enough spit to lubricate the cock, even though horrified at what he thought might happen. He had no choice, after all. His balls were aching terribly now and he was nauseated. He hoped he wouldn't puke and make everyone mad.

The man didn't cum into his mouth. After a short time, he pulled away and hugged Matt to his chest muscles, rubbing their bodies together. The man was naked. The girls were delighted. Matt was crying and cried more when the man told him in a low voice 3;

"Now I'm gonna fuck the shit out of you!"

Matt, fighting, squirming, but ineffective, was thrown to his belly on the floor. His butt was pulled up, his hands still tied, wrists crossed at the small of his back. The man wasted no time and began to rape his hole, pushing his cock into the opening, making the boy feel like he was being torn apart. Matt was crying, still out of breath, his balls still aching. The man was being cheered on by Mindy and Irene, especially Irene, who used much more profanity than even the man did.

Matt passed out finally, just before the man spurted a load of semen into the boy's bowels. Mindy was first to notice it and, after Gregory pulled out, laughing, she rolled him onto his back to make sure he was still breathing.

When they were reassured that the boy was all right, they all had a good laugh. Irene whispered something to Mindy, who nodded and whispered to the man.

When Matt woke up, he was still blindfolded. He could not move his arms at all; they had been untied for the first time in hours but re-tied, wrists crossed between his shoulderblades, folded arms bound so that he could not put his arms down at all. It was as if he had no arms at all. Not really painful, but completely immobile. The ropes did not go around his chest, as Mindy had insisted, because she wanted that bare.

Matt tried to speak but could not 3; something large was stuffed into his mouth and tied there; he could feel the binding pulling at the corners of his mouth and around his head. Speech was impossible. He could only make noises through his nose. He squirmed, trying desperately to find his arms as the man and the girls laughed at him, calling him the boy with no arms, and slapping his butt when he stumbled around the room.

Finally Irene pulled off his blindfold. He blinked. They were all dressed, even the man, in his green army pants. Matt was naked. He couldn't figure out what they had done to his arms, but he knew he could not move them at all. His hands, useless between his shoulder blades, arms folded and bound behind his back, could not protect any part of him. Irene was holding a bamboo fishing rod, and Mindy was holding some kind of stick, blue-green, made of some kind of plastic. The man grabbed Matt, fondled his chest and balls again, and pulled him between the poles. Matt was crying, unable to speak, squirming freely to the amusement of his captors as his balls had been untied, though they still ached.

Moments later, Matt stood between the poles, his arms still folded behind him. A rope, from his wrists, led to a bolt in the ceiling where Gregory had tied him. Matt was standing, naked, his arms completely immobilized, and unable to take more than one step in any direction. Gregory lay on the carpet and began stroking his cock through his pants as the girls walked up to Matt. Mindy removed his ball-gag and tossed it aside.

Matt spoke, his jaw aching 3;"Please, please noooooo please let me go please!"

But the girls began striking him, carefully avoiding certain parts of him. Mindy didn't want his chest marked. Gregory wanted his ass left smooth. As agreed, they whipped his thighs, causing him to dance and turn and almost fall several times, trying to keep his feet under him, crying loudly, screaming at times when a stick struck his penis or his balls. Soon his thighs, front and back, were marked with dozens of red whelts and stripes. He was exhausted, crying, unable to see through his tears, aching. They stopped after some 10 or 15 minutes 3; which seemed like hours 3; and the man hugged the boy to his chest muscles and rubbed his body on the boy's.

"I'm gonna fuck you again, boy." He said in a low menacing voice. "But not yet."

He untied the rope from Matt's wrists but left the boy's arms bound up behind his back, palms facing outward, hands between his shoulder blades. He had an erection, which Matt could feel through the man's pants, the man being sure to rub it on the boy as he held him in his arms.

Matt collapsed on the carpet, crying still, unable to speak, frightened and in pain and humiliated. He wished he would just die then and there. The girls were whispering, Irene smoking another cigarette. Irene slipped off her tank top and skirt, doing a strip-tease which Matt barely noticed, doing it for Gregory. In her tiny hiphugging panty and matching little bra, she wiggled around for a short time and then left the room, Gregory following close behind, carrying her clothes. Apparently he was the 'real man' to which she had earlier alluded.

Mindy came over and pushed Matt to his back. His arms under him caused his chest to stick up, his body bowed slightly. He tried one time to kick at her but she quite deftly punched his balls, causing him to ball up, and after a few minutes she had tied up his balls again. Holding the cord, she kissed his chest several times and kissed his tummy.

"Well, I've got to go to the bathroom. I'm all wet from watching you get tortured. You can guess what I'm going to do there. But I do have a surprise for you."

She got up and left. Matt lay crying for half an hour, finally sitting up. He could have put one foot under him and stood up, but didn't want to. His arms were still immobile, and he tried and tried to free them. He was about to regain his composure when Mindy returned. She was not alone.

With her was another girl, about her age. Naked. Asian. Slim. Teacup titties with little bitty nipples. Short black hair. Big brown eyes. Bald little pussy. Hands tied behind her back but otherwise unrestrained.

"Here you are, Matt. This is Lim. She's twelve. You can play together." And she shut the door, locking it loudly, twice. There was nothing else in the room except the box full of ropes and cloths and gags and other tie-up stuff. Matt looked away.

Lim walked to him. "Please, Matt. See if you can untie my hands. Then I'll untie yours."

But she seemed too calm, too assured. Matt knew if he untied her he would be completely at her mercy. But he also knew it was the only way his hands would be freed. He didn't know what to do.

She looked over him. "Oh, they've whipped you. How awful. I've never been whipped." She spoke with an accent, but not a thick one. Maybe she was Chinese or something. Matt finally looked up at her. She turned around, showing her pretty little bum, bending slightly at the knees, to put her bound wrists in range of his fingers.

"Come on, untie me," she said. "so I can untie you."

Matt had a bad feeling about this. "Why don't you untie me? Your hands aren't as 3;uh, as much tied up as mine are. You could probably do me faster."

"But my fingers are numb. I've been tied up for a long time. Please, hurry," she said.

Matt was unconvinced. It was like in school, when someone wanted him to do something, only to play a trick on him later. But he started to pick at her knots. There were two, and he untied the first one after only a couple of minutes. The second took longer. Finally she was free, bringing her hands in front of her, turning to face him, rubbing her wrists for a moment. She covered her little breasts with one arm and her pussy with the other hand.

Matt looked up 3; "Come on, get me untied. I can't move my arms at all!"

The girl shook her head.

"You'll try something."

"No I won't. Please, untie my arms."

"Please, untie my arms," the girl Lim mocked him and suddenly laughed. "Not a chance, boy 3; everyone likes you like that!" And with that she pushed him to the floor, laying atop him, kissing his mouth like a horny teenager.

"Look I'll do anything if you untie my arms 3; I can't stand it anymore!" Matt pleaded, trying not to cry anymore.

But then Lim did what he hoped she would not do. She reached with one hand and wrapped her fingers around his balls. Why was it always the balls? Every stinking time! He groaned as she put her breast to his mouth.

"Suck my titties, slave boy! And don't do it too hard!"

Matt did not hesitate. This was the least painful task he'd been given. He'd rather be doing this with Mindy, of course, having had a bit of a crush on her and not giving it up entirely. He kissed her right nipple and began to suck it into his mouth. Lim pulled back and slapped him hard across the face.

"Owwww that hurts! I said not to hard!"

"I'm sorry. Please, I don't 3;"

"A young girl's boobs are tender. Like your balls. Want to know what it feels like?"

"No 3;"

But she started pulling and yanking and twisting and squeezing his balls mercilessly, grinning, torturing the boy. "Men always get to have me and hurt me. Now it's MY turn!" she said gleefully.

Matt was thinking that it's what he got for untying her. He just KNEW it was a trick. Probably this girl was one of the slaves these child-molesting perverts had around, and they were rewarding her somehow 3; he could imagine one of them saying "Well, if you can get him to untie you, you can have him to torture."

Matt was crying again, softly, hopeless, helpless, wishing they'd just kill him and get it over with. After several painful minutes, the little Chinese girl became very affectionate, hugging him, cuddling him, kissing him, kissing his body, making soft cooing noises, and then she started playing with his pecker. He was in too much pain to get a hard-on, even at thirteen. Lim was patient but after twenty minutes or so she realized she was getting nowhere.

So she rolled him onto his belly and began spanking him hard, with her hand, like a baby. She must have hit him fifty times, and then she switched hands and kept hitting him, saying nothing, just listening to him cry. When both her arms were tired, and his butt a bright pink, she stood up, rolled him onto his bound arms again, and kicked his balls hard. He balled up again, ready to puke, trying to breathe, as she simply walked to the door and put her hand on the knob. It was unlocked. She left, leaving him there alone, naked, his arms immobilized, his thighs striped, his butt reddened, his balls aching, his lungs hurting.

She shut and locked the door.

Chapter 5

Matt lay on the floor in pain and discomfort. While trying to breathe without puking, his aching little balls throbbing into him, he took stock of his situation.

Naked, his hairless 13-year-old body completely uncovered. He had no idea where his clothes were. His arms were bent and tied so his hands were between his shoulderblades. His arms were immobilized, completely useless to cover or protect himself. His thighs hurt from the switching, still showing red stripes. His buttcheeks burned from a long spanking. His asshole burned from being fucked by the man Gregory. And his balls were aching, throbbing, making him want to puke. They had been squeezed, hit, kicked, bound, flicked, fondled, and stomped. He vaguely wondered if he'd ever have children. He was hungry, and very very thirsty. And his bladder was full, he really needed to pee.

Alone in the room, he sat up with a little effort, having to try several times as his arms were bound up his upper back, making his centre of gravity higher. When the girl Lim left, the door's lock clanked only once. When the other girls had left, earlier, it clanked twice. He guessed the door was really locked now and, without arms, would have a hard time trying it.

He managed to get one foot under him and then the other, standing, shakily, on his weak legs. If he could only get his arms free! This was worse than just having hands tied behind the back, as his wrists, crossed and tied between his shoulderblades, rendered his hands completely helpless. Not really under any strain, as the ropes around his arms and forearms, folded as they were, prevented his wrists from lowering and held them. But they were getting cramped from the immobility. And out of the way of his butt, which he was sure was gonna get more attention. He walked to a corner and carefully, without being able to hold onto his pecker, peed in one corner, hoping it wouldn't be noticed. He could hold it no longer. He was horrified at the thought of what he'd do if he had to poop.

He managed to avoid pissing on his own legs and feet, and staggered back to the middle of the room, intending to sit slowly but falling down on his sore butt, and turned over onto his side, crying softly. He fell asleep after a short cry.

Matt woke up rather suddenly, wondering how he could have fallen asleep under the circumstances. He was cold, chilly, his teeth almost chattering. And he couldn't see! Nearing panick, he realized he was blindfolded. His hand were also not tied behind him, for the first time in who-knows-how-long. They were pulled up and tied over his head. He squirmed just a bit and guessed that he was laying on his back on some kind of table, arms tied over his head, ankles tied down to something at the bottom of the table. He was still naked. He was wet, which explained why he was cold. And he felt something going over his body.

"Who's there?" he asked quietly, almost afraid to speak.

"Shut up" came the answer, feminine. "You gotta get cleaned up and I'm the one who has to do it, so just shut up."

Matt started to answer but decided not to 3; it would probably get his balls hit again. He was washed and dried, and turned over onto his belly, still stretched, and his backside was washed. He grunted when the cloth-covered hand washed his butthole rather roughly, but thoroughly (considering his ankles were tied together). His hair was wet. He smelled the soap. He was being cleaned up.

"You nasty boy, you shit yourself last night."

"It's morning already? Oh no! Listen, please, you gotta 3;"

He stopped when his hair was pulled backward, forcing his head back, and the girl's voice told him "I said don't talk. I don't want to listen to you. I want to get you cleaned up for 3; well, you'll find out." Matt was horrified at the thought someone saw him with shit on his butt. And was cleaning it up.

Some 20 minutes later, after being washed and rinsed several times in cold water, and having his hair shampooed and rinsed again, the shivering boy was dried. A moment later something touched his balls.

The girl's voice, which he did not recognise, spoke again. "All right, listen. I'm going to untie your hands. When I do you'll sit straight up and put your hands behind you."

"No, please, not behind 3; AAAAhhhhhhhh! Ohhhh Aaaahhhhh!" Matt screamed as pain went through his poor naked tortured little nuts again. Why did it always have to be the balls? When he calmed down again, the voice spoke again:

"Now, we'll try one more time. When I untie your hands, you'll sit up and put your hands behind your back. And hold them there. You'll let me tie them or I'll shock your little balls again. Do you understand?" Matt nodded. "And no tricks. If you do anything else, I swear I'll crank up the electricity and fry your balls clean off."

Moments later, the boy sat on the table, still shivering but not quite as cold, his wrists crossed and fastened behind his back by some kind of tape. No knots to pick, he reasoned. His ankles were untied and hands were helping him from the table. More toweling, since the tabletop was wet, and he wished more than anything that someone would wrap the towel around him. At least he wasn't crying like a baby. But he was still blindfolded.

"You really are kinda cute," the girl's voice said, as hands gently caressed his shoulders and chest. "Cute butt, too." Matt wondered if it was Lim. He knew it wasn't Mindy, and he knew it wasn't Irene.

Matt said nothing, horribly embarassed now, trying not to think about his bath. Mostly he didn't want to start crying again. He was about to ask if she would please please please untie his hands or at least take off the blindfold.

The girl led him, by one arm, still blindfolded, across a hard floor. Then through a door. He heard it open in front and behind. He tilted his head back a bit but could not see anything under the blindfold. He was standing in the middle of a floor when the blindfold was removed.

The girl who led him was in fact Lim, the Chinese girl. She simply turned and left. The room was windowless and lit only by one lamp next to a bed. There was a big bed, and instead of a dresser was a filing cabinet with combination locks on all four drawers. The walls, two of which were concrete block painted dark green, the other two of some kind of wood panelling, had no pictures or decorations. The ceiling wasn't a ceiling; there were floor joists. He was in a basement room, apparently fixed up like this as a spare bedroom or something.

He was alone. He immediately started to work on freeing his hands, really really wanting to have them somewhere except behind him. He sat on the carpet, unable to slip them over his butt. He bent. He squirmed. He twisted. He picked at the tape with his fingers, unable to find any edge to get ahold of. The tape was very strong and fairly sticky. And, as he looked over his shoulder and brought his hands partway around his body, dark blue in color. Some kind of decorating tape, no doubt. It was shiny, not like duct tape or masking tape, more like electrical tape except the color.

He also looked over his body in the lamp's light. His butt, what he could see of it, was white again. His thighs had pinkish stripes, but they were fading, and there were no scabs. The raised skin of the several whelts was also healing. He wondered how long he'd been asleep. He thought of getting back home before his parents came home, but didn't even have any idea 3;

The door opened. He froze, standing now, as someone entered the room. Please let it be Mindy. Please.

It wasn't Mindy. It was Gregory. Accompanied by Irene. Irene was wearing her panties, no bra, and was apparently drunk, staggering and giggling and speaking in a slurred voice.

"Oh, looky Greg! It's Mattie. And he's still all nakey. Looky, he don't have any hair!" She giggled. She had one arm around Greg, who was still wearing the army pants but no shirt or shoes. He had one arm around her. She turned to him and put her hands on his shoulders, her little boobs brushing his stomach.

"Greg, come on, get hard again, I want to fuck some more." She giggled and burped and giggled again. Matt stood, afraid to move or speak.

"Here, fuck the boy if you want, I'm tired. Damn you're a nympho!"

Matt's face must have appeared horrified, because both Gregory and Irene laughed at him. Irene stepped closer to him and said "Oh, Mattie, you're so nice and sweet and handsome. Will you help me with my homework?"

She touched his skin, on his arm, his chest and walking around behind him, ran her fingertips over his butt. He blushed even more but remained silent.

Irene looked at the man Gregory and huffed. "Well, I guess an old man can't keep it up all night, can he? And all day too?" She lifted Matt's little hairless pecker, causing him to step back and bend over a bit. Irene didn't like this so she grabbed his dick and yanked on it.

"Shit, what am I supposed to do with THIS?" she said, disapointed. She looked up and huffed again as Gregory left the room. Matt moved his wrists just a bit more. Her breath smelled of beer, which of course Matt didn't recognise exactly but guessed that it was beer. Beer and cigarettes. She ran after Gregory, stopped, looked over her shoulders, and warned Matt not to try to get away. She went after him. She returned some moments later, with cigarettes, a lighter, one cigarette in her lips puffing on it, and holding her tank top across her breasts. Still in her little panty.

She walked in as if Matt wasn't there, put her things on a small nightstand, and found a beer can to use as an ashtray, too drunk to get her ashes into it with any accuracy. Matt just watched her, unable to do anything else, not wanting her foot in his balls again. She smoked her cigarette and dropped it into the can through the opening where the pull tab had been removed. She lit another. Then looked at Matt.

"Well, get on the bed, boy, I don't have all day."

"What?"

"Get on the bed. I'm gonna fuck you til Gregory rests up. You're the only other 3; male 3; in the whole fuckin' place.

Matt slowly climbed on the bed and lay on his back, his bound wrists under him, trying not to cry. Irene snuffed out the cigarette and pulled off her panty, not giving him a good look at anything, and climbed on top of him. She played with is pecker, which only caused his poor boy-balls to hurt.

"Come on, Mattie. Get stiff for me. You did it for Mindy, why won't you do it for me?"

But Matt's nuts hurt too much, and he couldn't get an erection, either from fear, or pain, or humiliation, or a combination thereof. Irene was becomming impatient. Matt, realistically, had considered that having sex with this nasty Irene was better than getting tortured, but just couldn't get hard for her. He suggested she cuddle with him first, calling on his knowledge – derived from books rather than experience – but she began cursing and fussing that much more.

"Fuckin' nerd. Can't even get a stiffy. Shit. Useless prick. I hope Gregory cuts it off."

Matt desperately tried to get hard, but of course, at that age, if it doesn't come naturally, it doesn't come at all. Irene rubbed her little boobs on his chest and belly and his dick, rather roughly, not tenderly at all. Finally she got up and put on her panties and her tank top. Matt of course was left naked.

"Where are my fuckin' clothes?" she said, reaching for her cigarettes again. She looked at him as if demanding an answer.

"Uh, you didn't have them when you came in." Matt said, neglecting to mention that she was topless at first.

"Fuck."

She fumbled with the cigarette and put it down. She went to one of the drawers of the cabinet and opened it. "Stay there on the bed. We're gonna have some fun."

Some fun, Matt thought. More pain. But what else can a boy do, naked, hands tied behind his back, in the room with a really mean girl.

Irene fumbled with the locks, unlocking one of them. Apparently they all took the same combination, to which she was privvy. She opened the drawers. Matt strained to see but his view was blocked by her panty-clad butt. In a few moments, she began laying things on the bed next to him, warning him not to move.

Chains. Little leather things with buckles. Handcuffs. Ropes. Strips of black cloth. Matt tried not to look. He was afraid to move 3; at his disadvantage it would only bring him more pain.

He just lay there, as she smoked her cigarette and tied him up more. First, a rope around each ankle. Each ankle tied to a bedpost, making him hold his legs open. A brief rough fondling of his balls. Another draw on the cigarette. Then she buckled a black leather thing around each arm, just above the elbow. A chain from the arm-cuff to the bedframe on the left side. The same thing on the right. He could not sit up. His wrists, crossed, were still behind his back, though higher up now. It wasn't really very uncomfortable. He could not put his legs together. He sobbed just a bit in anticipation of something unpleasant on his balls. He tried not to look at the cigarette, with which she came close once to burning him. He didn't want to give her any ideas.

She was about to tie some kind of string around his balls when the door opened. It was Gregory, holding a can of beer. Irene hopped off the bed and staggered toward him.

"Well, you got him all tied up 3; aren't you gonna have any fun with him?" He said.

"Oh, come on, can't you get hard again even once? I wanna fuck your big hard cock." She replied, tugging seductively at her tanktop. Matt just watched, trying not to cry. Gregory approached the boy.

"Tell you what 3; maybe I can 3; if you do something for me."

"Anything. Just let me get that big cock inside 3;"

"Get the boy hard. Suck him off. I want him to cum."

"I tried that. He won't"

"Shut up, 'Reen. Just do what I say or I'll make you trade places with him."

Matt became rather interested at that. Irene went over to him and Gregory began giving her instructions: "Get your top off. And your panty. Yeah, now climb on top of him 3; be careful. Rub your boobs on his chest. Slower. No, slower. They like him, rub them on him slower.

"They don't like him and neither 3;"

"Yes, they do. Your boobs are in love with that cute little boy. Kiss him. No, on second thought, don't. The cigarettes and smoke and beer might turn him off. He is after all just a little boy, right, little boy?"

Matt said nothing. A tear leaked from one eye, thankfully unnoticed.

"Now," Gregory continued, "rub your boobs down his body and VERY gently over his cock and balls. Yeah, that's right, slower, very gentle, just barely touching. Now put his cock in your mouth and pretend it's mine."

"It's too small."

"Well, pretend he's my son and I want you to get him off."

Irene wrinkled up her face, almost looking like a 13 year old girl again, and very carefully, at the man's instruction, began to gently support his sore balls with one hand and lick and suck his pecker while stroking it with the other. The limp meat responded just a bit, and a bit more. After a few minutes, to Matt's horror, Gregory's delight, and Irene's surprise, Matt had a complete stiffy, sticking up at a 45 degree angle to his flat smooth hairless tummy.

"Go ahead," Gregory said. "Make him cum."

"Do I have to?"

"Yes. Do it or I'll just take Lim instead."

Irene became furiously jealous at that remark and started to suck the boy with considerable skill. She wanted him to hurry up and cum so she could go back to Gregory and his big man-cock. Matt lay there wishing for his hands to be free, for his clothes, just to be let loose. He'd never be able to tell anyone and, oh no! he'd never be able to face Mindy or Irene or anyone at school if they told. And there were those polariod photographs, too. In color! He wanted to die.

"Tell me, boy, when you masturbate, when you jack off, does anything come out? Hmmmm?" Gregory took a step closer. Matt, sensing an answer was demanded, nodded. "Well, 'Reen, when he cums, you better show me."

Irene was furious and it was apparent, her movements becomming rougher over Matt's genitals, until Gregory warned her to take it easy. Gregory was rubbing the front of his fatigue pants, looking at Matt's naked helplessly bound body. And a few moments later, Matt stiffened and experienced an orgasm that made his balls hurt. Irene spit out the cum, not much of it, and showed Gregory the little bit of semen that dripped out of Matt's pee-hole and down the little slit of his circumsized pecker.

When Gregory motioned to her, she grabbed her cigarettes and lighter and ran to him, jumping into his arms. He left, leaving the door ajar behind him, probably to go off and have more sex with that nasty Irene. And poor Matt, naked and helpless, still strapped to the bed. Once again, he thought of Mindy, how she couldn't possibly know what was going to happen to him. He still had his crush for her. He wished she would come in and untie him and hold him and cuddle him.

But it was Lim who came in. Matt was in his fantasy dream, fighting off his pain and discomfort, and glanced up to see the Chinese girl standing there. Slim. Pretty dark skin. Short black hair. And naked.

"I'm sorry I hit you last time," she said. "You are really very cute."

Matt blushed at this, and at the memory of her bathing him, cleaning his butthole, cleaning poop off him.

Lim walked closer. "Would you like me to untie you?" she asked.

"Yeah, but you won't do it," Matt replied.

"No, but I'll untie some of it."

She untied his ankles and unbuckled his elbows. She wouldn't free his hands, which were still taped behind him. She lay on the bed next to him, her tiny boobs close to him. "You know Mindy isn't the sweet girl you think she is," Lim told him. She told him how Mindy was all prim and proper in school, because she'd been raised that way, and that the promise of money caused her to be able to do the things she was doing. Apparently, Gregory nabbed children, boys and girls, from all over the region, especially in the cities. Sometimes he got the right kid to help him. Mindy was such a kid. Irene was his personal slave girl. As Irene's mother had been when Irene was a baby. Mindy, who never so much as smoked one cigarette or uttered a curse word, would lure boys to Gregory, usually in another city. She lured Matt with Irene's help. Matt, she said, was the first to be taken from here, as Lim explained, because this town was the only one without any missing 11 or 12 or 13 year olds.

All the time she was touching Matt, who had turned on his side to listen to her. She kissed him and stroked him and asked him if he enjoyed Irene's blowjob. Of course he hadn't, even though he came. He knew that in this case it was nothing more than a reflex, and Lim was surprised to hear it. They began talking about sex, about bodies and parts and which parts did what and why you don't feel pain as much when you're really horny and almost ready to cum. She was hugging him, rubbing her tiny little boobies on him. There was some kissing, eager on her part, a bit timid on his at first. Soon she was holding the naked helpless boy in her arms, kissing all over him. Then she was atop him, her pussy wet, telling him she'd never fucked a nice boy before, only Gregory and some of his friends.

She had an orgasm almost right away. She was rather vocal about it, going from a whimper to saying "oh oh oh oh oh." She kept riding him, he slipping out once or twice, and then they both climaxed, muchly at the same time. He sighed, feeling drained, weak, like after a long swim. Just wanting to lay there. He wanted to put his arms around Lim but not being able to. She got off him and with a cloth from somewhere wiped their combined juices off his groin and her vulva. She climbed onto the bed with him and wrapped her arms around him.

"You're cute, Matt" she said. "I like you. I hope Gregory doesn't 3; sell you. Like the others." Matt would have panicked at this but was just too tired. Instead he kissed her nipple, gently, when she hugged him. She giggled and told him to do it again. He did, remembering what happened when he got too rough with it the last time.

After awhile, she spoke again. "Matt?"

"Mmm Hmmm?"

"Would you take me home with you? I mean, if I could get us out of here?"

"Sure, I mean, yeah, I'd try to get my parents to let you stay with us. Pretend you're just a girl who needs a place to stay or something. Maybe tell them you're my Chinese pen-pal."

"Do you have a Chinese pen-pal?"

"No. But they don't know that. I had one from Spain last year. I could tell them it was from school. Some of the kids at school, usually girls, have pen-pals in other countries. I could tell them you are from Taiwan."

"I AM from Taiwan."

"But you don't have an accent 3; I mean, your English is 3;"

They lay and talked, he not asking her to untie his hands again, she continually kissing and hugging on his naked 'cute' body. She had been the daughter of a Taiwanese waitress, and an American businessman had bought her when she was very young. The businessman fondled her and molested her nightly, insisting she get her lessons duirng the day. She learned to read and write and even do some arithmetic. He kept her til she turned 9 or 10, and, she explained, he got rid of her before she started growing boobs. Gregory had acquired her and her lessons had stopped. She was just decoration for him, doing housework in varying stages of undress as he went about his business of stealing, training, and selling children.

"You'd help me do my homework, wouldn't you, Matt?" she asked, kissing him. He frowned, almost angry for a brief flash, then began laughing. "That's how I got myself into this to begin with. Helping Irene with her stupid homework."

The door opened. It was Gregory again.

"Lim, get your ass in the kitchen and start making coffee."

Lim said nothing, but gave Matt's arm a squeeze before jumping up and, naked, running out the door. Matt gulped when he saw Gregory, who approached him, sitting on the bed next to him.

"Relax, I'm not going to bugger you again 3; you know, rape your asshole." Gregory stroked the boy's chest and cheek affectionately. "I think I can get a good price out of you, but just so you know, I can hurt you 3; I can hurt you really bad, without leaving any marks. So just cooperate."

"Can I have my hands?"

"No. In fact, I'll have Lim come in here and tie you up good again. She's not bad at it. She's better than Irene." He thought for a minute. "But if you suck my cock, I'll let you fuck little Lim again. Maybe you can actually teach her to suck a cock."

Matt bushed in horror at the thought of sucking the man again. The man apparently was rather satisfied with his performance, at least til he pulled out and raped the boy. Gregory reached around Matt, patted his little butt, and left the room. Matt again tried to get his hands free, thinking that maybe, just maybe, the tape would have stretched a little or something. But it was no good. And his arms were just too short to get in front of him by slipping them over his butt.

A few minutes later, Lim came in again, still naked. She looked at him longingly, and went to the drawers to get rope. "Gregory says I have to tie you up better."

Matt looked sad. He was rather hoping to get his hands free for just a bit, and then he told her why 3;

"I need to go to the bathroom again. And I'm starving and haven't had anything to drink."

"I'll ask Gregory"

She left him naked on the bed and then returned. "Greg says you can go to the bathroom but then I have to clean you up."

"Don't worry, it's only Number One," Matt said. She led him, naked with his hands behind him, she naked too, to the door, out the door, and into another door. It was a small downstairs bathroom. He blushed as he pissed in the toilet, she holding his cock. She had apparently done this before. She brought him back and lay him on his stomach on the bed. She used a rope to tie his arms, just above the elbows, and pull them back til his elbows were almost touching. Now this was painful, and she said she was sorry, but it was Gregory's orders. When his arms were again helpless she tied his ankles and then left him on the bed. She kisses him once and said she'd try to come back to him if Gregory would let her. She also mentioned somewhere in the binding of the naked boy that Mindy had gone home last night and wouln't be coming by today.

Matt dosed off wondering what time it was, wondering how much Mindy made for betraying him, and whether Irene would ever turn in her homework 3;

It was dark in the room when the door opened. The lamp had either burned out or been turned off. Matt woke up, in misery, his fingers and hands were so numb he couldn't feel them, due to the way his arms were pulled back and bound. His heart sank when he saw Gregory's tall form come thru the door. Gregory was now wearing some kind of pajama pants, gray with red stripes or something on them, and nothing else.

Matt was unable to sit up and lay on his side, watching the man Gregory, who came in and turned the boy on his belly.

"Hmmm, well, she did tie your arms after all, didn't she. I'll have to reward her for that." Gregory said, and then turned Matt onto his back, his belly and chest arched out some from laying on his bound arms. The man grabbed the boy's poor naked balls again.

"No, please, no not again please 3;" Matt began to beg, but Gregory smacked him across the face, causing him to sob quietly.

Matt knew it would be his balls again 3; and he was right. Moments later, a thin cord, like the bootlace from earlier, perhaps even the same one, was tied around the base of Matt's balls, causing the skin of his scrotum to be stretched over the now supersensitive testes. Matt involuntarily struggled a bit, but didn't resist, knowing it was futile.

Matt was brought to his feet and to the foot of the bed. He began to speak, very softly, "Please, I can't feel my hands 3; please untie them just for a fe minutes 3;"

"Oh, yes, your arms are tied and circulation and the nerves are cut off," the man said, which caused Matt to panick more. "Yes, and if I don't untie them soon, you're hands will be numb and completely useless, crippled, just lumps of skin on the ends of your arms, forever!"

Matt began to cry.

Gregory bent him over, til his neck was on the rail at the footboard of the bed, and wrapped a leather belt around his neck twice, and around the rail, buckling it, forcing the naked boy to stand bent over, his arms pulled back and bound behind him. His hands were just over his butt-crack in this position, his fingers at the level of his crack.

Matt was crying harder now, knowing what was coming. Without a word, Gregory put something nasty and slimy on his butthole, and kicked the boy's feet apart. Matt could not move his arms. He could not stand up. And he could not prevent Gregory from raping him yet again in the ass.

This time it was worse. Gregory rammed him hard, over and over, stretching his poor anus, and all the while a radio playing silly songs from somwhere 3; "Yummy Yummy Yummy," and before that a song that repeated "Dizzy Dizzy I'm so Dizzy." Gregory reached around the boy, rubbing his chest (which actually kinda felt good) but then sliding his hands down to twist the poor boy's balls, already tied tightly in the cord or bootlace or whatever it was. Matt was crying and trying not to puke, and trying to breathe at the same time. His hands were completely numb. Without his hands he'd never be able to dress himself, drive a car, use his typewriter, or do anything! He'd rather die!

He sobbed and cried and screamed and was completely out of energy when the man finished and unbuckled the boy's neck. Matt collapsed onto the floor, the man laughing at him, mocking the song on the radio 3; "Yummy Yummy Yummy I got fucked in my tummy" the man said, pulling up his own pants. He rolled Matt to the middle of the floor and opened one of the drawers.

He put a black telephone onto the floor. Instead of a phone cord, it had three wires coming out of it. Matt was sobbing and by the time the man sat next to the naked boy, he had regained much of his composure.

"Know what this is, boy? Well, it's called a Tucker Telephone." Matt thought it looked much like any other phone, except that he could see, on the dial, a label under the plastic of the dial. It read: "Ext. 2072." He wished it had had a phone number he could maybe memorize.

Gregory took the wires and attached them, via the cord, to 3; you guessed it 3; Matt's poor balls. Matt, not understanding but knowing this was going to be unpleasant, focused on the dial of the telephone. It was a plain black phone, like any you'd see in any house or office. The man lifted the receiver and placed it on the floor.

From the next room, someone on a radio was talking about how President Nixon should get them out of Viet Nam, and that it was his fault that the American boys were over there fighting and dying. He was also talking about some protesters marching somewhere, and a senator named Humphrey accusing the president of doing stuff that Matt didn't understand, given his nonpolitical interests and the fact that he couldn't hear most of it.

Gregory slowly put his finger in the dial, in the hole over the number "5." He turned the dial, dialing the five, and let it go. The dial, under spring power, returned, sending pulses of painful shocks through poor Matt's balls, causing him to scream and scream and beg.

"Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhh nooooooo please no more no more no more no more not that no not my balls please 3;"

And when Gregory dialed another five, the pulses going into poor Matt's body wouldn't even let him scream 3; his mouth was open, his lungs empty and buring, begging for air, his legs kicking helplessly, his arms jerking impotently. When Gregory dialed another number, Matt screamed silently and passed out.

When Matt awakened, he reached up and rubbed his eyes. They were sore and burning from crying. Then he looked at his hand. His beautiful wonderful highly skilled right hand. His left one was there too. He sat up, laying naked on a bed. He looked at the little table and there was a large glass of water, with some nearly-melted ice cubes. He grabbed it, took a big gulp, and forced himself to drink slowly, having read about adventures in the desert where people get dehydrated and can't drink very much at first.

He turned. On the bed next to him, sleeping, one hand on his tummy, was Lim. She was wearing a pair of yellow bikini panties, and a short yellow shirt of some kind.

His balls were untied. In fact, he was free for the first time in 3; how long had he been here? He leaned over and, not ashamed of being naked anymore (after what he'd been through, nudity was the least of his worries), touched Lim on the shoulder. She woke up and threw her arms around him.

They spoke in whispers.

"Did you untie me?"

"Yes. Gregory said I could come in and have you. Because I cooked up such a nice supper for him." Lim told Matt that he had been here all day the day he was 'captured', and all night, and all the next day.. She told him it was getting dark. He'd been here well over 24 hours, probably closer to 30 as he figured.

"Thanks. Thanks for untying me."

She kissed him and held him tightly. At least this time he wasn't shivering cold.

"Did you mean what you said 3; if I could get you out of here, you'd take me home with you?"

"Yes, sure. I'd 3; think of something. I'd do everything I could to get my parents to let you stay, at least for a little while. But 3; but 3;"

"But what?"

Matt gulped. "But we can never tell them about Gregory or Irene or Mindy 3; or this place. I mean, I'd never live it down. Dad works for a company and he can't move away, and Gregory will find us again 3;"

"Gregory is leaving tomorrow." She sat up, leaning over him, one hand on his beautiful boy-chest. "He's leaving and taking Irene with him. Mindy won't say anything. She's gonna get too much money for helping him locate two girls that he snatched."

"Where are they?"

"Never mind, we can't help them. Only us. It's either that or we ALL go 3; and if he sells you it might be to some mean nasty men who will 3; well, they'll 3;"

"I can imagine." He stopped and looked up. "You mean, you have a way?"

"Yes but there's not time to explain now. You just have to trust me. Listen, don't talk," she said, putting her fingers on his lips and kissing his chest. "Listen, you got to do exactly what I say. You have to trust me. And I know that won't be easy after what I did to you earlier 3; I'm so sorry but Gregory forced me. You just got to do exactly what I tell you to do. No matter what."

Matt thought it over for exactly two seconds. "OK, I'm in. Or out, or whatever. Just tell me what I have to do."

Lim stood him up, naked, and taped his hands behind his back again, using the same kind of tape as before. Securely. For real. No playacting here. Matt began to get worried. He thought it might have been a game but, so what, if it's a trick, it couldn't be worse than what he went through already. If Lim betrayed him, well, even Mindy betrayed him. And if not, well, he'd be her boyfriend forever if she wanted. And she is kinda pretty, he thought.

Then the cord around his balls, snug, for real, but not painfully tight. Another rope around that, and she was leading him around like an animal on a leash 3; with painful consequences should he resist or fail to follow.

She told him Gregory did this to another boy once about a year ago, to train him. The boy had been 'owned' by a man who wanted to get rid of him because he was getting hair on his nipples. The boy was 15 at the time, she said. Anyway, she showed him to keep his head down, as if he were subdued. Watch her hands; she'd point down if she was about to stop, left if she was going to turn left, right if she was going to turn right, and wiggle her fingers if she was gonna go faster, so he could follow.

"And try to whimper a little bit 3; you know, say 'ouch' and stuff like I'm hurting you."

She slipped on a pair of sandals. She picked up a small bag, with a couple of ropes hanging out of it, apparently full of bondage stuff. She pulled on a pair of pants, just plain cotton elasticwaist pants which fit her little butt a bit too tight. She took the cord and began to lead poor Matt, whispering a last instruction:

"Don't let on like I ever untied your hands. Wiggle your fingers like you're trying to keep blood in them."

She led him out of the room and up some steps and into the kitchen. Irene was passed out on the living room sofa, naked, and Gregory was sitting in the floor smoking a cigarette. No, it was a joint 3; it had to be. It smelled too weird to be a cigarette. Gregory looked up.

"Where do you think you're going?"

Matt, frightened and confused, wondering if he was going to be tricked again or what, kept his head lowered. He flickered his fingers just a bit. He moaned when Lim pulled his ball-cord, not acting because it really startled him, hurting just a little bit.

"To the garage," she said.

"Stay inside the house."

"But you said I could do what I want with him. I want to tie him up in the garage."

"Well be sure to gag him." The man was too high or stoned or drunk to reason, and Lim just smiled and waved at him. Her fingers went left and she suddenly turned left to go toward the garage, Matt seeing and anticipating but still saying "ouch" on the way out. She winked at him and said "Shut up," as if he'd asked to have his hands untied or something. Then they were in the garage.

"We got to hurry," she said.

She untied his balls, with a little fumbling, but had not brought a knife for the tape around his wrists. Being in a hurry, she brought out a pair of red girls' pantied with little white dots. Telling him not to argue, she helped him into them, his hands still tied. She helped him into a pair of exercise pants, gray sweat pants that were about his size, which had belonged, she would later tell him, to another girl who was 'snatched'. Then came a pair of sneakers, without laces. They were a size too big but Matt didn't care. For the first time in two days and a night, he was not naked.

And yet, at any moment, she could turn on him. Gregory could come out and she'd turn on him. Or maybe she was really going to help him escape. But why wouldn't she untie his hands? He knew his hands were the key to escape, the difference between being able to run away and jump and climb and move obstacles, and being a helpless boy walking half naked.

"Oh, Lim, thank you 3; thank you 3; oh clothes again! Where'd you 3;"

"Hush, we've only got minutes."

She tugged at the tape around his wrists once but of course couldn't get it loose without a knife. She smiled, he looked confused seeing her smile, and once again thought she might be about to trick him 3; but in a few moments they were running down the alley, and between two houses, and toward a street, she in her little yellow top and her pants and sandals, he in the sweat pants and sneakers 3; and the red and white panty which didn't really fit well.

They went to his house, after he got his bearings, and entered through the back door, he showing Lim where the key was kept behind the downspout. His parents weren't home. They wouldn't be back til tomorrow morning. The house was neat and clean as he left it, and he looked at Lim.

"Now will you PLEASE untie my hands?" he asked.

"Not til you help me with my homework," she said, smiling, hugging him, pressing her body to his. "Anything," he said. "It might take all night," she replied. And she took him up to his own room, stripped him, stripped herself, and had her way one more time with the cute naked helpless 13 year old with his hands taped behind his back.

The End