MaxStevens

Adopted to be a
Bondage Star

FINALLY!!! Max had literally been waiting his whole life for this moment, at least as much of his life as he could remember. It hadn't been a bad life, per se. He always had food to eat and a place to sleep. He was happy for the most part. He had friends. He was pretty smart and made good grades. He had fun, toys, video games 3; pretty much anything he wanted. All except for one thing he had always craved 3; a family.

You see? Max was an orphan. His father died in a war overseas only a couple of years after Max was born. And his mother died a short time later in a car accident. He had no other family to take care of him, so he was moved into a state-run children's home. He was well taken care of, and even though he was a cute toddler and grew into an adorable child, he just never seemed to be chosen by would-be parents. Now at the age of 12, he thought it was going to be almost impossible to be chosen. Every potential adopter was looking for younger children, babies and toddlers, or maybe a cute girl, but never a preteen boy like Max. Not until today.

It wasn't a mom and dad looking for a new son this time, just a dad. He had met Max a few times before. They played some games together and talked, and the orphanage even let him take Max out to lunch one day and spend a day at the park, just to make sure they both thought they were a good fit for each other. The man worked at a local elementary school, so Max wouldn't have to be home alone too often. And he had the whole summer (which just started) to spend with his new child. He made enough money to take care of the kid. And even though the orphanage rarely let a single man adopt a child, he had a clean record and excellent references. He seemed to be an upstanding citizen and had hit it off with Max in their interviews and outings. They knew the chances of a 12 year old being adopted were slim, so they approved the adoption.

Today, everything was to become official. Max was already packed and dressed in a nice short sleeved button down light blue shirt and freshly ironed khaki pants. The home had even given him a nice dark blue clip on tie, just to make him look quite formal for the adoption. The blue shirt and tie made his big round blue eyes shine. They had combed his usually messy blonde curls into a neat style, so he looked his best. He was standing in the front lobby waiting to officially go home with his new dad. And he could already see him pulling his silver sedan into the parking lot.

Michael Curtis was every bit the kind, gentle, responsible person that his background check made him out to be, at least on paper. He was in his mid-thirties, with dark brown hair and brown eyes. His hair was cut short and styled conservatively. He had a decent muscular build, but nothing excessive. He was wearing a darker pair of khakis himself, but a burgundy polo shirt. Still he looked nicely dressed though. He opened the door with a big smile on his face and held out his arms, expecting and shortly thereafter receiving a running hug from his new son.

***

A few quick signatures, packing the car, an hour or so of driving, and unpacking the car later 3; Max was moving into his new room. It had everything he had always imagined. A large bed, at least bigger than the children's home beds, was probably his favorite feature of the room. He flopped on it as soon as his last bag was brought up from the car. "This is awesome, Mr. Curt 3; um, dad!" He said, catching himself in the middle of the man's name. He had always been so formal with the man. But officially, he was his son now, so he needed to get used to calling him 'dad'. He just hoped the man was ok with it.

"Heh 3;" Michael laughed nervously, not quite prepared for the 'D-word' that quickly. Then he smiled at the boy and nodded as if he was completely fine with the word. "Well, son 3; I wanted you to be comfortable in your new home. I tried to pick out a few toys and games I thought you would like, but if there is anything else you want, just let me know. Maybe we can go shopping this weekend to get you some more clothes or 3; Well 3; anything you might like or need," he said, sitting on the foot of the boy's bed and patting his legs.

Max sat up in the center of the bed and looked around the room. He had his own TV, a brand new game console, and plenty of other toys. There wasn't anything he could think of that he would need. He was more than pleased with what he had. Maybe a few more clothes, but that was all. "No, sir. It's great. I really don't think I could ask for anything else!" He leaned over and gave the man another hug and squeezed him almost as tight as he could manage. This single moment was probably the happiest moment of the boy's life.

And that moment seemed to last for the next two weeks. Michael was off work for two and a half months, so he got to spend plenty of time with the kid. He did take him shopping and bought a lot of nice clothes, and even more toys and stuff for the kid. The guy seemed to be made of money, at least more than a public school employee made. But Max didn't seem to take notice of that. He was still on cloud nine in his new home, with his new dad, and all the new stuff that the man was buying for him.

***

It was after one of these trips to the mall that Michael decided to have a serious conversation with Max on the way home. He had to convince him to turn off his new tablet device and set it down on the seat first, though. Once he had the kid's full attention, he took a deep breath and laid it out on the line. "Max, buddy. I need to have a talk with you. It's been great these last few weeks getting to know you and letting you settle into the house. But it's time I let you in on a little secret 3;" He paused to look at the boy in the passenger side seat. His face looked a bit confused, but very interested in what the man had to say. Michael bit down on his own lip for a moment and sighed. "Maybe it would be better if I just showed you," he said, pulling into the next available parking lot. He reached over and grabbed the boy's tablet and went to the browser. It took a couple of minutes to log into the secure site he was trying to pull up. But eventually he clicked on a video and handed it back to the boy.

On the screen there was a boy, maybe a year or two older than Max, being held up against a large X shaped device. The kid had tears in his eyes and looked to be in quite a bit of pain. His arms and legs were wrapped in wide leather cuffs, pulled tight by heavy looking chains, and attached to the far ends of the X. The boy's entire weight was hanging from his wrists and his legs were pulled down so tightly that he couldn't move a muscle. Max couldn't help but stare at the screen, wondering what was going on. He looked a bit disgusted, but still curious. He turned up the sound on the tablet and could hear the boy crying loudly, trying futilely to loosen any of the four chains stretching him out. "PLEASE! IT HURTS!" He screamed towards the camera. His tone and the look on his face proved that he wasn't acting.

Then a man appeared on the screen. He was wearing all black and even had a ski mask over his head. The only thing that could be seen was his mouth and his brown eyes. He walked up to the shirtless boy, but did nothing to relieve his pain. All he did was attach two black sticky pads to the boy's hairless chest. Then placed a black cord with what looked like a microphone around his neck. He simply said, "shh 3;" and walked away from the boy and off the camera. The boy yelled out again, "PLEASE!" But before the word completely left his mouth, he let out a blood curdling scream and contorted as much as the tight chains would allow. It was obvious that the pads were delivering a painful shock. And each time he screamed, the shocks were hitting him. Eventually, he went quiet and just weeped silently. Then the screen went black and a message appeared offering the remainder of the video for a price. Max just stared blankly at the screen, and didn't move or look away for several seconds.

Meanwhile, Michael had pulled back on the road. After several seconds of silence, he took another deep breath. "Here's my secret, Max. The man in that video was me. The entire video was made in the basement of our house. The boy was brought to me by a friend of mine and he paid me to do that to his boy and to record it, and since then thousands of others have paid me so they could have the entire video. There are several other videos like that one with dozens of different boys. Some are cute, some are scary 3; but they all make me money. Money that I can spend to make you my happy son," he glanced at Max again. The boy was now staring at his father with a look of utter disbelief and a bit of fear evident in his eyes.

It was too late now. He had already begun down this road. He had to finish it now. The quicker, the better 3; like taking off a bandaid. "A few months ago, one of my friends came to me with an idea. A whole series of videos 3; with the same boy. Showing him growing older over the years. A permanent 'character'. 3; kinda like a TV show," he explained. He kinda hoped the boy would catch on by this point, but he seemed to be making the same dumbfounded expression. If he was catching on, he definitely wasn't showing it. Once again, Michael took a deep breath. It just so happened they were turning into their own driveway by now. Good timing.

"That's why I adopted you, son."

Max's eyes opened quite a bit wider as he said that last sentence. "Me?" Was all he could say at first. Michael could clearly see the wheels turning in the boy's head as he was trying to process everything and come up with some kind of a response. "You 3; you want to tie me up 3; and hurt me?" he finally got out.

Michael thought long and hard about his answer. The car was parked now, so he didn't have to focus on the road and he could really put his mind into this. Part of him really did care for the boy and didn't want to scare him too much. But the other part of him couldn't wait to get started with this new 'project'. Finally, after yet another sigh, he answered the kid. "Not all the time. But some times 3; yes. Sometimes, it will be other things that don't involve being tied up and hurt. But, yes 3; I want to make videos of you that I can sell online. Think of it as a job 3; Like an actor on TV or something," he said.

Another glance at the boy showed that he was obviously moving out of the shocked phase and into the upset and hurt phase. His lip was quivering a bit and he could see Max's eyes turning sad and beginning to look a little teary. "But that wasn't the only reason I adopted you, son. I always have wanted a son of my own. I really do enjoy being your father. The scenes won't all be bad. And they won't be all the time. Just every once in awhile. You'll see 3; it won't be too bad," he said, leaning over to give the boy a gentle hug. Max didn't really return the hug, but he did relax a little bit in his father's arms.

"Now let's get your stuff inside," he added, trying not to dwell on the current subject.

Max took a few minutes to get out of his seat. He was still in a bit of shock. But the fact that Michael seemed so at ease about all of this did help settle him some. "Like an actor 3;" he had said. So it would just be make believe or pretend. He wasn't going to really hurt him. He would just be like a character on some of his favorite TV shows, like the snooping boy detective who gets captured by the bad guys. He could do that. It wouldn't be too bad. By the time he made up his mind, he noticed that his new dad had already cleared all the bags from the car and was standing at the door waiting to see if Max was going to come in at all. The boy finally took a deep breath and got out of the car and followed his dad in through the front door.

The man led him into the living room and they both took a seat on the couch. "So 3; what do you think?" Michael said after another moment of silence.

"I guess it would be ok," Max answered, still sounding pretty unsure about all of this. "As long as it doesn't hurt and I don't have to do it all the time. And 3; I can say 'no' if I want to. And 3;" Max figured he had the power to negotiate since his father was asking him to do something that he really wasn't comfortable with. The least he could do was try to get something out of it. But nothing came to mind at the moment. It didn't matter anyway because before Max could say another word, Michael interrupted.

" 3; and nothing, son. I asked nicely because I didn't want to scare you or make you upset. But the truth is 3; this decision was made before you were even adopted. You are going to do as you're told. I'm your father, and you will either obey me 3; or 3; well, be grounded. Do you understand?" he asked with a somewhat stern voice. "But I am glad that you at least said it would be ok. So I am going to tell you what 3; as long as there is no whining and no more demands from you, then I think we can start off a bit easy with your training tonight." He didn't even look at Max this time. He couldn't help feel a bit guilty about what he was going to do to the kid. He really did love him like a son. He wasn't like the other boys. He wasn't just a slave to use and abuse however he wanted. He was HIS kid, his own son. That didn't change his plans though. He still wanted to make him a bondage star. And he had to get used to being bound as soon as possible.

If he would have looked at the boy, he would have noticed that he was moving through his stages of acceptance. He had already been shocked. He had negotiated, first with himself, then attempting to do so with Michael. Now he was beginning to transition into the angry or even defiant stage. Maybe it was the mention of whining, or maybe it was just the natural response for a young boy faced with the strange situation that his father was forcing him to deal with. But he was shaking his head side to side and looking rather upset.

"I don't want to train tonight. And I don't want to be in your stupid videos. I just want everything to be normal like the last few weeks have been. This isn't really fair," he said, starting out strong and defiant, but ending up in nothing more than a boyish whine. He stood up quickly and turned to let out one more huff, then ran up the stairs to his own room before he began to cry in front of his dad.

Michael didn't really react to the boy's fit. He just sat there and sighed once again, and gave Max a good ten to fifteen minutes to gather himself before he approached the subject again. But it seemed as if the boy had made his decision. He probably didn't realize it yet, but he had chosen punishment over training. Michael had planned to simply introduce him to wrist and ankle cuffs, with a medium length chain attaching them together. He would still have mobility and be pretty comfortable. It was just meant to be a small example of bondage. But he had chosen to be grounded instead. He had been given a warning. Of course, he would have no idea what 'grounding' meant to Michael. It wasn't as simple as having to stay in his room with no toys or TV. No 3; Michael's definition of grounding was much stricter. And Max was about to face his punishment and get a much tougher introduction into bondage than Michael had originally planned.

***

Max's door did not have a lock (on the inside, anyway), so even though he wanted to lock Michael out for a while, he couldn't. He just hoped that slamming the door shut would be enough of a clue to keep his dad out until he was ready to see him again. Unfortunately for the kid, there was a light tap on the door only fifteen minutes later, and without waiting for a reply Michael walked in carrying a small black duffle bag.

"Max? Feeling better, yet?" he asked, walking in and taking a seat on the edge of the boy's bed.

Max was laying face down on the bed, and had buried his head in his pillow. He heard the door open and Michael coming in, but didn't bother to look up or acknowledge him at all. In reality, he was still trying to hide the fact that he had been crying. He felt a little betrayed 3; actually, a lot betrayed. He had wanted to be part of a happy loving family for so long, and come to find out he was only adopted to be tormented and recorded and sold online. This was definitely not what he had been dreaming up for the last ten years. So needless to say, he was not feeling any better yet. He didn't even bother to answer the man. He just laid motionless on the bed. Which was a bit ironic 3; because that was what he was going to be doing for the remainder of the night, even if he didn't know that yet.

Michael sighed again. He didn't know if it would change his mind or not, but if Max at least stopped the whining and asked for forgiveness, he could maybe taken that into account and relaxed a bit on what he was about to do, but it seemed like Max had no plans of doing that.

"I'll take that as a no, then. I'm sorry to hear that," he said, reaching into the bag, to go ahead and pull out the first piece of bondage that the boy had likely ever experienced. It was a three inch [7 cm] wide black leather strap, with a bit of soft padding on the inside, and a locking buckle and large D-ring on the outside. He didn't give the boy a single word of warning as he grasped Max's right arm and tugged it hard enough to force the kid to turn onto his side. He quickly wrapped the strap tightly around the right wrist and locked the buckle closed. With practiced ease, he grabbed a short length of chain out of the bag and two small padlocks. He clipped one end of the chain to the D-ring of the cuff and moved rolled off the side of the bed and connected the other end of the chain to an eye-bolt screwed into the underside of the boy's bed. By the time he had the other end locked in place, he had forced the boy to completely turn onto his back, so he could now clearly see his tear stained face and the clear look of shock and fear in his eyes.

"I warned you, son. Any whining and complaining would result in you being grounded. And when I say you are grounded that means you will be bound so that you have very limited movement. Sometimes it will be very uncomfortable. Other times, it won't be so bad 3 Just boring. Since this is your first time, you get off kinda easy. You will get to stay here in your bed, nice and comfy, but unable to get up and move or watch any TV or anything. How long you remain this way will depend on how well you cooperate. If you continue with your bad attitude, it will only make matters worse 3; more time 3; more bondage 3; more discomfort. The choice is yours," Michael said, as he reached into the bag to collect the next cuff and chain.

Max let out a surprised yelp and immediately threw his other arm over his body and tugged at the chain and cuff on his right wrist. "WHAT!? What 3; you can't!" he whined, tugging with all of his might, trying to free himself from the single piece of bondage he was trapped in. "LET ME GO! I DON'T WANT 3;" Again he was interrupted before any more came out.

"That's an extra hour," Michael announced, even though he hadn't even announced the beginning time yet. He wanted to make the boy's first punishment one that he would remember, so he was kinda planning on leaving him locked in place the remainder of the evening, and not unlocking him until morning. But he also wanted to make Max feel like that was his own fault. It was only 6PM at the moment, so he was possibly looking forward to at least twelve hours in this predicament. Max would definitely remember that.

Max stopped struggling for a moment and turned to stare at his dad when he heard the announcement. "An extra HOUR!?" he whined, obviously surprised by the amount of time a simple whine had added. "You 3; can't 3; Please 3; da 3; Dad?!" He wasn't whining as much as he was begging this time. He had a pleading look in his already teary eyes, begging the man not to be serious. His arms and legs were trembling slightly, as real fear was beginning to settle in.

"One more hour 3;" Michael said, not really wanting any begging at the moment either. He knew that he hadn't gone over the rules yet, so it wasn't really fair to pile on the punishment, but he made the rules, so he could enforce them any way he wanted to. "First off, whenever you are being punished, trained, or are in the basement being recorded, you need to address me as 'sir' or 'master'. I am not your 'dad' during those times. Understand? And I want you to nod or shake your head. Right now, you are not allowed to speak, got it?" he added, just because he wanted Max to get used to following orders, even though he knew that he was probably not in the correct mindset to do so right now.

"Please 3; sir 3;" Max began, smart enough to at least change the way he addressed the man, but not coherent enough to listen to the last part of his statement.

"Another hour," Michael said, adding nothing more to the conversation. He just grabbed the boy's left arm and began to repeat the process that had been applied to the right arm. Max put up a small amount of struggle, but it was more of a reflex than actual rebellion. Still it gave Michael the excuse to once more announce an additional sixty minutes to the boy's ever increasing account.

After hearing that he had already added four hours to his current time, whatever that might be, Max was beginning to do the math. Even if the initial time was only one hour, it now meant that he was spending the remainder of the time he would normally be awake being stuck in bondage. If he didn't shut his mouth quickly and cooperate, he would be in this situation until morning. He was still shaking from fear, but did manage to keep his mouth shut for the time being. He knew he was already more or less helpless now that his two arms were stretched from one side of the headboard of his bed to the other. It was bad enough as it was, but Michael didn't look like he was done. He walked around to the foot of the bed and reached for the boy's socks. Max was still in his socks, jeans, and t-shirt from earlier that day. And since Michael knew the boy wasn't getting out of bed again that night, he figured the least he could do was put him in some comfy pajama bottoms. So he ripped both socks off and began to unbuckle the boy's belt.

This made Max cry out loud, not knowing why the man felt the need to remove his pants. He didn't struggle or speak, but did cry loudly, shaking his head frantically, obviously not wanting this to happen. Close enough, Michael thought and shook his own head. "Another hour. Even silent whining is still whining. I said you were expected to cooperate fully. Besides, all I am doing is trying to make you more comfortable, son," he said, breaking his own rule about their relationship while in punishment. The boy was still his son, even if he wasn't allowed to refer to Michael as his father.

Max gave up completely at this point and went back to silent crying and trying not to react at all as the man put on the pokemon pajama bottoms, and then moved on to attach two cuffs to the boy's ankles, locking and chaining them to the bottom sides of the bed's footboard. He was almost completely immobilized now, stretched from head to foot and left to right on the bed. It wasn't uncomfortably tight, but left almost no movement. And after 12+ hours in this position it would be quite uncomfortable, and probably not make for a great night's sleep.

Michael took this moment to move to the side of the boy's bed and take a seat. He reached over and wiped Max's tears from his eyes with his fingers. "You are doing a really good job, buddy. You're taking this like a real trooper. Remember, I said that I wanted to do was give you a little training tonight? But you whined, complained, and stormed off, right?" he asked, pausing and waiting for the boy to actually respond. "Right?" he repeated, making sure that the boy took responsibility for this punishment.

Max didn't respond at first, but after the second 'right', he did finally nod silently.

"Good. I'm glad you remember that this was your choice. Now, I am going to explain what is going to happen tonight. You are going to spend the entire night, just like this. I am going to leave a baby monitor on your nightstand. If you feel like you are in danger or can't handle this, then you can call for me. But if I come in here and you are ok, then I will add something to your punishment," he said, reaching into the bag to pull out a few of the optional components that could be added to the predicament. Max might not have recognized the items, but one was a ball gag complete with a leather face harness. The other was some kind of hood made to fit over his entire head, covering his eyes and ears, with obvious breathing holes near the nose. He also took out a pair of metal clips attached by a short chain. He laid each item on a shelf beside the TV on the other side of the room. The last thing he took from the bag was something that might look a little familiar to the boy. It was the same black sticky pads and a small black box just like the one that the man in black had attached to the boy in the video he watched earlier today.

"Now, before I turn off the lights and leave to go back downstairs, I will allow you to ask one question. After that, I should not hear your voice again until morning, unless there is an emergency. So take your time and make it count. OK?" Michael said, setting the little white monitor on the nightstand, then kneeling down so he was close to the boy's face.

Max thought long and hard about the question he wanted to ask. He had cried a few more silent tears hearing the full description of his punishment, but he was still smart enough to not say a word until he was given permission to do so. He had several questions in his head, but after filtering through all of them, he asked what he thought was the most important. "Sir 3; what 3; what if I need to 3;." After another long pause, he finished the question. "Pee?" He almost always went right before bed, which normally wasn't for another two or three hours. The thought of making it all the way til morning without a bathroom break was pretty daunting to the young boy.

Michael had already thought of that, and had already came up with an answer. He knew it was not the answer that Max would want to hear, but that didn't matter at the moment. "You have two choices when it comes to that. Either hold it until morning 3; or. 3; spend the night on wet sheets," he said calmly. He knew the sheets would probably be ruined, but the mattress was treated so that the moisture from urination would not be absorbed. It could tolerate several wettings without being ruined. "Good night, son," he said, not wanting to talk any further about the situation. His answer was final and everything was set. So with that, he simply turned on the monitor, turned off the lights, locked the door from the outside and made his way back downstairs to enjoy some TV.

Max waited until the door closed and he was pretty sure Michael had walked away before he once again began to cry. He tugged one at a time on each of the short chains holding his cuffs towards the four corners of his bed. It was no use. They were held tight. Not a single one gave any movement or even a half an inch of slack. Michael hadn't intended the first round of bondage to hurt or strain Max too much, so he wasn't pulled completely tight. He could bend his elbows and knees at least a little, but not enough to be completely comfortable in this position.

The boy thought over his options. He could keep struggling, stay awake all night trying to get free, and probably get so frustrated that he would begin yelling and screaming for help. But he knew that if that happened Michael was likely to add one of the other implements of bondage that were currently laying across the room from him. Or he could just lay there and try to get comfortable. Maybe he could fall asleep a little bit early and sleep all the way til morning. Then this wouldn't be too bad. He would be unconscious for most of it. He decided on the second option, but almost as soon as his crying stopped and his adrenaline began to slow down, he began to discover the next problem. He already knew it was going to happen sooner or later, but of course he had hoped for later. He had to pee.

Max almost wished he hadn't asked Michael about this earlier. Then he could at least claim ignorance. But he already knew that the man wasn't going to let him up to go to the bathroom. He had no idea how much time had passed, but since the sun wasn't quite setting yet, he knew it hadn't been long. Probably not even an hour yet. He couldn't yell for help. He couldn't get free. And he knew that he wouldn't be able to get to sleep until this current situation was resolved. Max rolled to one side as much as his chains would allow, which wasn't much. He tried to squeeze his legs together near his crotch to relieve the pressure and it worked for a little while. But the constant strain on his legs and arms from lying in that position began to outweigh the relief on his bladder after only a few minutes. He went back to the relaxed positon on his back and just closed his eyes and took deep breaths. He had to get to sleep. He hadn't peed to bed since he was four. If he could just fall asleep, his bladder would 'turn off' until morning. He just knew it.

Another half an hour or so passed, and Max continued to stay wide awake with the growing pressure building in his bladder. He turned back into the squeezing position for a few minutes once again, then back to his back. This cycle repeated itself more and more frequently as his little bladder filled more and more. The sun was just beginning to set now which signaled that it was some time between 8PM and 9PM. This was about the time that Max normally went to bed, and the time he normally took care of any bathroom needs. By now, he was getting desperate. He could clearly remember Michael's words from a couple of hours ago, but surely the man didn't expect him to actually wet the bed. Maybe if he apologized for his earlier behavior. Maybe if he promised to be good and do the videos. Maybe 3; Just maybe 3; He just couldn't take this any more. He had to go so bad.

Max took several relaxing breaths and turned his head towards the monitor. His bladder was really beginning to hurt by now. He knew that he had minutes before he no longer had the choice but to wet his bed and spend the night in the puddle. It was now or never. He took one last big breath and began to speak, "Sir 3; or 3; um 3; Master?" He started in a voice just louder than a whisper. He paused for a moment and then continued, not even sure if the man could hear him. "Please, master, sir. I really 3; really have to pee. Please let me go to the toilet. I promise 3; I'll be good. You can lock me back up afterwards and I won't whine or complain about the videos any more. I'll be good. I'm sorry that I was bad before. Please 3; just 3; just let me go to the bathroom," he pleaded, trying with all his might to keep from crying again, but he could feel his lip quivering and his eyes getting watery. He stopped speaking and tried to calm himself in the silence.

Maybe Michael had went to bed early or turned off the monitor. Maybe he didn't hear him. Max couldn't decide which he would prefer. If he didn't hear him then at least he wouldn't be punished further. But of course, that also meant there was zero chance of him going to the toilet. He thought he heard feet moving on the stairs and held his breath until he was sure that there were footsteps and then moments later heard the lock on his door being opened. Here it came 3; moment of truth.

"Oh, buddy. You were doing so well for a while there," was the first thing that Michael said as he entered the boy's small room. "I thought maybe you had fallen asleep and were going to be released in the morning without a problem." Michael took a seat on the foot of the bed once again, looking away from Max as he spoke. "But then you just had to start whining again 3;"

As soon as the boy heard that, he knew that he was about to lose another battle. He knew the man was about to make his punishment worse, so he felt like there was nothing more to lose. He began to cry again and tried to sit up just a little bit so that Michael would turn to look at his desperate face. "PLEASE! Daddy! I don't want to pee to bed. I'll be good. I promise!" The boy cried, tugging at his restraints with renewed vigor. "Just 3; just let me go pee!" He opened his mouth to say something else, but was met with a slap to the side of his face. It wasn't too powerful, but strong enough to silence the boy.

Michael stood up and moved to the shelf across from the boy's bed. He leaned down to grab something, but in the dim light of the hallway and the almost completely faded sunlight, Max couldn't tell which item it was. At least not until he felt the rubber of the ballgag being forced into his still open mouth. "I told you that you would not be getting up to use the bathroom before I left. I also told you not to call me 'daddy' during a punishment, training, or video. And finally 3; I am in charge. Not you. You do not get to give me any orders," he said, forcing the ball farther into the boy's mouth.

Max actually let gagged as the ball nearly touched the back of his throat. It was at that point that Michael tightened the straps behind the boy's head and let go. The ball moved forward just an inch or so, relieving the pressure in Max's throat, but not moving far enough to allow Max any speech. In this position, Max couldn't move his tongue at all or close his mouth. Already he could feel saliva beginning to pool at the bottom of his mouth, and couldn't get it to swallow with the gag in place. The boy looked completely stunned. Since he had first met the man, he had never thought this kind of cruelty would ever come from him. He had been so nice. But now, he didn't know what he could be capable of. He stared up at the man's barely lit face. He didn't seem sorry or remorseful at all. He almost seemed to be enjoying this.

Whether it was the new rubber ball trapped in his mouth or the look on the man's face, Max was scared. More scared than he had probably ever been in his life. And even if his bladder wasn't as full as it was, what happened next likely would have happened from the fear itself. Max didn't even realize what was happening at first. He continued staring at Michael as he began to urinate on himself. By the time he finally caught on to what was happening, he had already soaked through his underwear and his pajama bottoms. The bottom sheet was pretty much saturated and even the sheet over top of him had a large circle growing above his crotch. Max couldn't say a word even if he wanted to. All he could do was cry. He coughed a bit as he choked on the saliva in his mouth and tried to force a few wails passed the gag. He has humiliated, a bit sore from only two and a half hours of bondage, and completely saddened by how his 'perfect' world had taken such a drastic swerve in just one afternoon.

Michael turned back to the shelf, and finally let his hard face soften just a bit. He didn't want Max to see it, but he was feeling a little guilty for forcing the boy to wet himself. But he had to stay strong. Max might be his son now, but he also had to break him into a good 3; well 3; slave. He had already advertised the new arrival to his fans. He had promised them some good shows. He couldn't back out on that now. He had also decided that in the long run, this would bring them closer together. He just couldn't look at those sad eyes anymore tonight. He took a deep breath, collected himself and picked the leather hood up from the shelves and turned back to Max. "One more thing, because you broke so many rules," he said calmly as Max continued his muted sobbing. "Maybe this will help you get to sleep," he leaned over the boy's head and lifted it up from the mattress just enough to slip the hood over.

This thing was made for some light sensory deprivation. It was actually somewhat comfortable inside. Padded leather over the eyes and ears, two small holes under the nostrils and a large hole in front of the mouth. Of course that last one was of little help because of the gag. Max would be able to breathe fine through his nose though. There were three straps on the exterior of the hood and the entire back was made of laces that would close it tightly around the head. Max put up no fight. It was all out of him at the moment. He just let the man move his head around until the hood was in place. Then he felt it getting tighter and tighter as the laces were tied. Then he felt the straps tightened. One around his eyes and temples forcing the padding tighter against his eyelids. Next one that seemed to go all the way around his head, forcing the pads tightly against his ears, blocking almost all sound. And finally, the one around his neck, making sure the hood couldn't be slid off during the night.

Now there was no light getting to Max's eyes, and barely any sound getting to his ears. It was even more terrifying for the boy now. He was trapped in his own little world. A world where he could barely move his arms and legs, he was forced to lay in his own urine which had already began to cool, and he had no stimulus from the outside world 3; no sight, no sound, no movement 3; only the smell of pee and the cooling wet touch of his underwear and sheets. Michael's goal was reached. He could no longer see the sad, scared look in Max's eyes, but he could tell that the boy was still crying by his heavy breathing, the noises coming out of his gag, and the vibrations of his hooded head. It made Michael tear up a little himself, but it didn't stop him from turning to leave the room, once again locking the door behind him.

Max didn't even know that Michael had left. He didn't hear the door close or the lock turn. He heard nothing except his own heavy breathing and the leather squeaking against the straps of the gag or against his own skin. It didn't take long for his head to get warm from being encased in leather so the squeaking became worse as sweat began to cover his head. It made everything just that much more uncomfortable. His crotch began to itch from the drying urine on his skin and he was beginning to shiver thanks to the wet fabric all around his midsection. This was by far the worst night he had ever experienced in his life. His tears had stopped for the most part, because he had ran out of tears to cry, but luckily all the stress, fear, and discomfort had made his body and mind tired. So it did not take him too long to finally make it to sleep.

Of course, it was not a good solid slumber. He woke up several times throughout the night. Each time, he would awaken to the darkness and silence of the hood around his head, still unable to move, and still cold from his own wetting. He would struggle to remember where he was or what was happening, get scared all over again and eventually cry himself back to sleep. By the fourth time this happened, he was really beginning to panic. It had to be morning by now. Maybe Michael had forgotten about him. Or something happened to his new dad. Maybe no one was ever coming to release him. He fought hard against the bonds and tried to shake the hood off, but once again, nothing loosened or released him. Eventually he wore himself out and fell back to sleep.

Once morning did arrive, Michael woke himself up, took a nice morning shower, went downstairs to put on a pot of coffee, got dressed and combed his hair, all before checking on the boy. When he did finally unlock and open the boy's door, he saw the motionless kid breathing slowly and deeply, still completely unconscious after his last panicked awakening. Michael went to work releasing the chains that held his cuffs to the bed. He even moved his arms and legs closer together to try and get the cramps out. He left the cuffs on the boy's wrists and ankles for now. He even helped the boy sit up on the bed, to try and take some of the stiffness out of his back. From the looks of it, Max was still not stirring yet. Michael knew his sleep couldn't have been that great, so he simply held the boy in the seated position and began to loosen the straps then the laces on his hood. As he pulled that off, the boy made a muted moan into his gag, but still did not move or even open his eyes. The gag was the last thing to be taken out. A small pool of drool fell from Max's mouth as the ball was pulled loose. His eyelids fluttered a bit, but did not open. Michael gently laid him back onto his pillow and began to gather the chains, gag, and hood, tossing all of them back into the black bag. He then quietly left the boy's room, leaving the door open this time.

It took another fifteen minutes or so for Max to actually wake up. When he opened his eyes for the first time and noticed sunlight and the sounds of birds chirping, he shot up quickly and looked around. His arms and legs were free. He could see and hear, and could even feel that his mouth was empty. By now, the sheets had mostly dried, even though his undies and PJ pants were still a bit damp. He began to itch at his crotch almost immediately from the dried urine that had been on him all night. He had no idea what time it was, or if it was even the next day or several days later, but whatever the case, he was free. He did see that the cuffs were still on him, but he didn't care. He slid off the bed and almost fell to the floor as his legs were still a bit weak from being stretched out all night. He forced himself back up to his legs and took several wobbly steps towards the door. He didn't see or hear Michael in the near vicinity. He listened for several seconds, then went back to his own room and grabbed some clean undies, a t-shirt and a pair of jeans. He didn't want to ask permission or even talk to Michael until after a shower. If he got in trouble, so be it, but he needed to be clean.

Of course, Michael heard the shower running a short time later, but he wasn't worried about it. The cuffs were waterproof so a shower wouldn't damage them. And he didn't really want the boy stinking up his house with the smell of pee, so he would have ordered the boy to take a shower anyway. He was just glad that the kid seemed to be up and moving. He was already working in the kitchen to get Max's and his own breakfast ready. He was planning to get the boy when it was finished whether he was awake or not. At least it sounded like he wouldn't have to take another trip up the stairs for a little while.

Max was so grateful to get the smell and feel of sweat, urine, and slobber off his body. The warm water also relaxed his sore muscles and back. He would have loved to stay in the shower the rest of the day, but it didn't take long for the warm water to begin to feel cold. He knew he had to get out, get dressed and face the rest of the day. And the most nerve-wracking part was that he knew he had to face his father once again. Maybe he should just get dressed and runaway. Or call the cops. Or something. He couldn't live with this man any more. Not after last night. As all of these thoughts were going through his head, the boy turned the water off and stepped out onto the towel on the floor. As he did, he could smell the scent of bacon, eggs, and sausage wafting up from the kitchen. The smell alone made him begin to salivate. He was starving. He didn't have dinner last night, and from experience, he knew that Michael was a good cook. Maybe the running away and calling the cops could at least wait until after breakfast, he thought.

A short time later, he was dried, dressed, and standing at the top of the stairs still debating whether or not he should go down. Eventually, his belly won out and he began to descend towards the dining room. Michael could heat the pitter patter of small feet on the stairs and began to set the table. Everything seemed completely normal, like any breakfast they had had in the past few weeks. Michael had a pleasant smile on his face as the boy entered and even pulled out a chair for the kid, tapping the seat. Max seemed a bit hesitant, but did sit down, staring at Michael the whole time as if the man could suddenly attack or something. But once he took his seat, Michael slid the chair forward to the table and walked around to the other side to sit in his own seat.

"Good morning, sleepy head. I didn't think you were ever going to get up." the man said as if nothing had happened the night before. "I made your favorite."

Max still looked confused, but not quite as scared as before. He didn't say a word. He simply stuck his fork into the scrambled eggs and took a small bite, still without ever taking his eyes off of Michael. The man didn't seem to mind. He just began eating his own meal, looking up at Max every few seconds or so. He seemed to be waiting for Max to say something before he said anything else.

It took Max almost half of the meal to finally speak up. He had finished most of his eggs and had been taking small nibbles of the bacon and sausage, and small sips of the orange juice. He definitely seemed uncomfortable and was eating a lot slower than normal. But now that his hunger was partially sated, he decided he wanted to say something about last night.

"Umm 3; dad?" he said, pausing to make sure that he was allowed to call him that now that the punishment was over.

"Yes, son?" Michael responded with a smile. Obviously 'dad' was ok now.

Max didn't even really know what he wanted to say. He knew that yelling and complaining wouldn't do any good. If anything, it would probably just mean a repeat of what happened. He had promised to be good, of course, that had just made things worse. He thought over his words carefully, and the more he thought the more upset he seemed to get, so much so that he was beginning to tremble again from fear. He did manage to keep himself from letting out any more tears, though. He took a deep breath and finally continued the conversation. "I'm 3; I'm done being punished now 3; right?"

Michael gave an almost sympathetic look at the kid and nodded. "Yes, son. You served your punishment and it is over for now. But 3;" as he said 'but' Max froze and stared, not wanting to hear that word, and definitely not wanting to hear whatever came after it. "But 3; if I get any more of that attitude from last night, then you will simply receive a new punishment. In fact, I would kinda like to hear you apologize before you leave the table," he said, using a calm and collected 'dad' voice, not trying to sound threatening or scary. But the words alone definitely made Max feel threatened.

The boy knew that his best chance was to simply play along and do as he was told. He could still runaway or call the cops later, he thought. "Yes, sir. I 3; I'm really sorry for being so whiney and for storming off last night. I promise that I will be good for now on," he said, breaking eye contact with Michael for the first time. He just stared down at his plate as he said the words, and then took another small bite of bacon.

"That's good to hear, son. If you really mean that and you are really good today, then there won't be any more punishments, but you do need to begin the training that we were supposed to start last night. And tonight, you will make your first video. Do you understand?" Michael asked, still with the same caring fatherly tone.

Max gulped as he heard the outline for the day. But it did sound like it would at least be easier than last night. "Yes, sir," he said almost in a whining tone. He had pretty much lost his appetite now, but still didn't want to give Michael a reason to be mad. He was simply sitting there with his head bowed, pushing food around on his plate with his fork, not wanting to look up any more.

Michael could see the dejected look on the boy's face. He didn't seem upset about it though. It just meant that he was beginning to break down the boy's defenses. His first night in bondage had broken him some, obviously not all the way yet, but it was a good start.

"Are you finished with your breakfast?" he asked, trying to get the boy to look up. Instead all he got was a small nod from the kid. "Alright. Then I want you to take your cup and plate into the kitchen sink, then come over here and stand for a minute, ok?" Max nodded again, and stood to do as he was told. This was nothing new, even before their little talk yesterday, Max had to do a few chores around the house, and dishes were usually one of them.

When Max came out of the kitchen, he made his way around the table to Michael's seat and stood, still staring down at the floor.

"Look at me for a moment, buddy," Michael said, wanting to see the kid's eyes as he explained the first part of his training. Max sighed and looked up at the man. He looked pretty sad, but didn't want to say anything, fearing it might sound like he was whining again. "You see that I left the cuffs on you this morning? That's because I want to train you to get used to them. You will be wearing them a lot, in almost every video you make, sometimes while you sleep, sometimes just while you are around the house playing or whatever. So today, you are going to wear them all day. For now, I want you to turn around and put your hands together behind your back. I am going to attach a short chain to your cuffs so you can't put your arms in front of you, OK?" he said.

He wasn't being menacing at all. He was calm and explaining the situation almost like a teacher would talk to a young student.

Max shook his head slightly from side to side as he heard how his training was going to begin. He didn't like it, but it wasn't nearly as bad as being locked and stretched out on a bed. He sighed and nodded when Michael finished his speech, then slowly turned his body away and put his hands where his father had asked him to.

"Good boy!" Michael said, messing up the kid's hair a bit in a playful manner. Then Max could hear metal rattling as Michael pulled a small 5 inch [13 cm] chain from his pocket and two small padlocks, like you would find on luggage at the airport. Max could feel the added weight on the cuffs as each side of the chain was locked to each of the cuffs.

"Good, now sit on floor and lift your legs up towards me. I also want you to get used to having your legs chained together. This is just to keep you from running too fast. You will get used to it," he said, pulling out a longer chain and two more locks. This chain was closer to a foot in length, about 30 cm.

Max took a seat, slowly, since he was unable to really use his hands to help him get into position. When he saw the second chain, he was at least relieved that it wasn't too short. He would be able to walk ok, but yeah, running would be difficult. Again he let out a sigh, but said nothing as he lifted his legs together into the air. "This is all, buddy. Nothing else for a while as long as you are good. OK? And the rest of the day will be mostly normal. We can watch TV, go outside and play. Whatever you want. You can even still call me daddy," Michael explained as he attached the chain to the two cuffs. "Alright, you can stand back up now. Need help?" he asked, leaning down to help the boy up if he needed it.

Max shook his head and backed away from the man's approaching hands. He wanted to do this himself, or more so, he didn't really trust Michael or want his help. He might legally still be his father, but he had lost the whole father/son feeling some time in the middle of the night last night. It took a minute, but Max was eventually able to pull himself upright. He tested the bonds on his hands in the process, tugging just to see how much motion he had. He could pull either hand just to the front side of his body, but in doing so, he made his other hand almost completely useless, pinned against his back. As far as his feet were concerned, he could stand normally and walk in small steps. But if he went up the stairs, he would probably have to take one step at a time with both feet, and running was going to be out of the question. At least there was some slack between his wrists, though. His arms weren't being pulled together uncomfortably. He could relax his shoulders still. All in all, this wasn't so bad at all.

"Alright. Now I want you back upstairs to get your sheets, pajamas, and underwear from last night. Bring them down to the laundry room and put them in the washer. After you start the washer, you can come into the living room and watch cartoons for a bit, sound good?" Michael asked, giving the boy a big smile. Again, these were all normal chores for the kid, but obviously they were going to be a little harder in cuffs and chains.

It didn't take long for Max to figure out that his chores were going to be harder like this. The look on his face as Michael explained what he was going to do made that fact clear. He opened his mouth for a moment to try and argue, but he caught himself before anything negative came out. He simply nodded and said, "Yes, sir," he knew it was possible to do like this, even if it was going to be a little more difficult. "Can we watch Pokemon when I'm done?" he asked, trying to help his own nerves and try to make this seem almost normal.

"Sure, kiddo." Michael said, giving the kid another little hair ruffle. "Now go get those stinky clothes and sheets and get them washed."

And with that, Max shuffled out of the dining room, his chain jingling against the hardwood floor as he took his small steps towards the stairs. The carpet on the stairs made the sound a little softer, but the trip up took twice as long. He tried to walk up the way he normally would, but the chain caught his foot as he tried to skip every other step and he nearly fell forward flat on his face. He couldn't even reach for the rail thanks to his wrist restraints, so he just fell to one knee and carefully stood back up and put both feet on the same step.

He took the rest of the stairs one at a time and eventually made it to his room. The top sheet and his clothes were pretty easy to gather up, but getting the bottom sheet off took some time. He had to turn around backwards and tug at each corner, one by one, then move to the foot of the bed and pull the whole thing off. He tossed it on the pile and once again, knelt down backwards to pick the whole collection up. He held the clothes behind his back as he took the slow steps one at a time back down towards the laundry area.

Once there, he had to load the clothes in with his back to the machine, standing up on his tiptoes to get them into the top-loading washer. He got all of the clothes in, and realized there was almost no way to grab the detergent from the shelf above the machine. He couldn't lift his bound hands nearly that far. He couldn't even reach the knobs behind the open lid to start the load. He knew that if he failed the chores he would get punished. Even before the bondage, that happened. It might be a quick spanking or a time-out back then, but who knew what it would be now. He began to panic a little bit, then remembered the tall step ladder in the hall closet. That could work.

He made his way towards the closet, jingling all the way, once again on hard flooring. Picking the step ladder up behind his back was pretty easy. In the short time he had been cuffed like this, he was getting used to it. Setting it up in the laundry room was a bit harder though. His hands couldn't separate far enough to unfold it, so he could only move it a little at a time until it was unfolded far enough to climb on. But Max was a smart kid and he kept at it. Eventually, he had it open and was climbing the three steps backwards. He had to lean pretty far over the back of the ladder to get his hands around the large bottle of detergent, though. He was able to grasp it, but as soon as he pulled it off the shelf, its weight was enough to topple the boy's balance over the back of the ladder.

Max dropped the bottle and it landed with a loud thud, leaving a large dent on top of the dryer. The back of Max's head also hit the top edge of the dryer as he fell backwards over the top of the ladder, bounced off the dryer, then landed hard on the tiled floor on his shoulder. Luckily, he did not land with all of his weight on his chained arms, and didn't seem to have broken anything. However the chain between his ankles did get caught on the top bar of the ladder, causing it to fall on top of the boy lying on the floor.

The knock to the back of his head was probably the worst part of his fall. It left him dizzy and disoriented for several minutes. It might have been hard enough to cause a slight concussion, but no serious damage. The metal ladder landing on top of him had managed to rip his shirt and cut the side of his lower abdomen, but again, nothing serious enough for stitches or anything like that. The cap of the detergent did manage to stay on, so there was no major mess, but the noise it made upon landing was more than enough to get Michael's attention. He came running from his office into the laundry area and took the scene in.

It wasn't hard to figure out what had happened. He could pretty much replay the scene in his head. The backwards climb and stretch, the heavy bottle tipping the boy backwards, and the resulting tumble that led to the current sight in front of him. Max wasn't crying or moving. He just looked completely dazed and now that he could make out Michael standing over him, he seemed to be embarrassed by what had happened. He stared up blankly for a few seconds, and then the pain began to hit him, and he finally began to cry.

Michael didn't seem mad at all. If anything, he felt guilty for what had happened. He bent down and picked the ladder up, then carefully helped Max up to a seated position. He checked the cut under his shirt and the bump that was already forming on the boy's head. He seemed to be 'ok' given how bad the fall could have been.

"You alright, buddy?" he asked, turning to look at the boy's eyes to make sure they weren't dilated or anything. "Can you move everything ok? Is anything hurting real bad or feel broken?" He was acting almost like an EMT, checking to make sure the boy was intact before he said anything else about what happened.

Max was still crying from the pain and embarrassment, but he did move his arms and legs around to make sure they were ok. "I 3; I think 3; I'm ok," he managed, leaning into Michael for comfort and support. He would have hugged him if he was able. He didn't care at the moment that this man had been the one to restrain him like this and indirectly caused this to happen. He was just glad someone came to check on him. "I 3; I was just 3; trying 3; I didn't want to ask 3; I wanted to do it myself," he continued, trying to explain his actions. It just at that moment began to dawn on him that he might be punished for this, and that scared him more than the pain was hurting him at the moment.

"I know. I know. And I am actually kinda proud of you for trying to do it without help. But listen, if it is just a training thing, like this, you can always ask for help. Unless I tell you otherwise. I don't want you to hurt yourself just because you are bound in some way. That would make me feel really bad. OK? When you are wearing restraints like this, there are certain things that you just CAN'T do. Let's make climbing a step ladder one of those things, Alright?" Michael said, helping the boy up to his feet. "It was my fault. I should have put the detergent down for you," he added, hugging the boy himself, since he knew that Max couldn't. "I'm sorry, buddy."

Max seemed to almost melt into Michael's arms as he hugged him. Any thoughts of running away melted right along with his pain and embarrassment. He may have hated the man last night and early this morning, but now he was really beginning to see him as a father again. Sometimes a bit of tender kindness can actually help to break down a sub just as much as cruel bondage can, and Michael knew that. He really did care for the boy as a son, but he also knew how to slowly chip away at any defenses that the boy could build up.

He poured the soap for the boy and started the machine himself, then helped put the ladder back and led Max into the living room. A few moments later, the two of them were sitting on the couch with the newest Pokemon movie playing on Netflix. It only took about ten minutes for Max to wiggle down to a lying position with his head on Michael's lap. If it wasn't for the fact his hands were still secured behind his back and his ankles were attached by a chain, it would almost look like a normal afternoon between a father and son.

Chapter 5
The First Video

The rest of that day had gone by somewhat normally. Max and Michael had spent some time playing out in the yard after watching the movie. They made lunch together. Max had to help in the kitchen, doing dishes from breakfast and assisting with preparations for lunch. By now, he had almost gotten used to the cuffs and had found it a little easier to do most things behind his back. There were a few times he had to ask for help, but was at least smart enough to ask instead of doing it himself.

Once their sandwiches and soup were ready, Michael called Max over and unlocked the chain between his hands, only long enough to move the cuffs around to the front side and be relocked. "You can go run and wash your hands and take care of any 'other' needs if you want. Then right back here to eat. Alright? After lunch, they go back behind. Understand?" Max nodded to both the questions and ran off to use the bathroom.

Lunch was pretty uneventful. They ate their food and made some small talk. They decided what they were going to do afterwards. Max had some chores to do and Michael had some work to do in his office. A few hours later they were right back at the table eating dinner. It was then that the small talk turned a bit more serious.

"Son, you have done a really good job today. I haven't heard you complain or whine about the cuffs, even once. Except for that little accident after breakfast, you have been great. Tonight, though, we are going to be shooting your first video. It won't be too bad, since you have had a good day. It will basically just be your introduction to the world. There will be some more bondage and probably a bit of discomfort, but nothing too painful. Every time we have one of these video shoots, there will always be two options for you to choose from 3; A lighter scene or a darker one. In other words, a bit of bondage and discomfort OR painful bondage and some form of punishment. The way you decide is by your behavior. If you have a good day and you play nice in the lighter scene, then we don't have to do the darker one. If you throw a tantrum at the lighter option, then you get the darker one as punishment. Understand?" Michael said, beginning to lay down the basic rules for the video shoots.

It took almost a full minute for Max to process what his father was saying, but eventually nodded and almost whispered a weak, "Yes, sir."

The man smiled and continued to explain what was expected out of the boy. "Either way, I will warn you, the videos will likely be a lot worse than simply walking around in loose chains and cuffs. What I mean by throwing a tantrum, means you whining, complaining, struggling, etc BEFORE the cameras are on. After the recording starts, you can beg and whine all you want and I WANT you to struggle to try and get free. It makes for a good show. But remember 3; No 'daddy' or 'Mr. Curtis' or anything like that. I want you to kinda pretend that I am a stranger when the camera is on. You can call me 'sir' or 'master' but nothing else. Understand?"

This time Max didn't answer out loud. He simply nodded. There was a feeling in the pit of his stomach that was once again telling him to run away, but he knew that would be difficult with the short chain between his ankles. And part of him was actually curious to see what the videos would be like, and to see exactly what the basement held.

Michael smiled. He could tell the boy was nervous, but so far had agreed to everything and been very cooperative. "Good boy. Are you scared?" he asked, curious to actually know what Max was feeling. "It's ok. You can tell me if you are. It won't change anything, but at least I can give you a hug and try to make you feel a little better now," he offered, giving the boy a warm fatherly smile.

Max was silent for a moment, thinking over all the possibilities that could be in stored for him later this evening. Of course he was scared, but he wasn't sure he wanted to actually tell Michael that. But the more he thought about the more he had to admit to himself that he really wanted a hug right now. "Yeah 3; I'm a little scared. I mean 3; I was really scared last night while I was locked up. And 3; if this is going to be like that 3; and maybe hurt 3;" Max just stopped for a minute, trying to keep himself calm. "Do I really 3;" he stopped again, somehow knowing that arguing about it was not a good idea. "I'm trying to be brave," he finally said in a weak voice, shivering a bit in his chair. "What 3; what are you going to make me do?" he added after yet another long pause.

While Max was still talking, Michael stood from his chair and rounded the table to Max's side. Just after the boy finished, his father pulled his chair out and turned it, so he could kneel right in front of him. He pulled the boy forward and gave him a rather sincere feeling hug. He even rubbed the boy's back to try and comfort him as much as he could before answering the last question. "It's ok to be scared. Especially the first time. As far as what the plan is for tonight, I can't tell you. I want it to be a surprise so the video looks better. But it won't hurt too bad. OK? Only if you get in trouble. Then it will," he added, still wanting to keep the boy in line, even if that last part seemed to scare him even more.

As soon as Michael broke the embrace, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a set of keys, unlocking both chains from both sides of the boy's ankles and wrists. "I want you to go upstairs to your room and close your door. You will have about twenty minutes to calm down, play a video game if you want or read a comic. Whatever. When you hear me call you, then I want you to take off your shirt and your pants. Use the bathroom if you need to and come to the bottom of the stairs to meet me, OK? You can do it, buddy. I believe in you," Michael said, ruffling the boy's hair once more in a playful manner, then lifting him up off the chair, spinning him around and giving him a little push towards the stairs.

Not only was this supposed to be a time for Michael to prepare what he needed in the basement and for Max to try and calm his nerves, but this was also meant to be a test for the boy. He had definitely seen that little spark of rebellion in his eyes throughout the day. It was too be expected after last night's punishment. He wasn't worried about him calling the cops. There was no home phone in the house. Only Michael's smartphone, which was always in his pocket. Any computer with internet access was kept locked, too. Even the doors and windows had secure locks on them that could only be opened by Michael. The boy wasn't going anywhere, but he might know that. He might still make an escape attempt or do something foolish. Michael wanted to give him at least one chance to do that before the video shoot. It was his last chance to earn the darker option instead of the lighter one.

Lucky for Max, he made a wise decision today. He just went upstairs and played pokemon (In case you can't tell by now, Max really likes pokemon) for the first twenty minutes or so. When he heard Michael call his name, he did exactly what he was told. He trusted the man enough to not worry too much about what was going to happen. He had already decided in his mind that he was going to be good since Michael promised it wouldn't hurt if he was. And his own curiosity made him want to go through with everything tonight. He could always try the running away thing tomorrow. So there he stood, at the bottom of the steps wearing nothing but a plain pair of tightie whities and the four black cuffs that had been a part of his body all day. His head was bowed slightly, and he still looked nervous, but not nearly as fearful as before.

Michael was waiting for him at the bottom of the stairs. During the last twenty minutes, he had changed into a tight pair of black jeans and a long sleeved black t-shirt. He was wearing black leather gloves and the black ski mask that Max had seen in the other video was hanging out of one of his pockets at the moment. Even without it, he looked like a pretty imposing character, but Max felt like he knew him enough by now to not be too afraid of him. He didn't speak at first. He simply looked Max up and down and walked all the way around him. Then he took his place back in front of him and took a deep breath.

"Good boy. You are continuing to follow your orders. I'm glad to see that. Now, before we go downstairs, I want you to put on one more thing," he announced, reaching into his other pocket to pull out a padded black blindfold with a buckling leather strap attached. "This is not to scare you or as punishment or anything. I just don't want you to see everything down there until you are ready for it. I am going to lead you to the room we will be shooting in today and then I will take it off, ok?" he asked, not even waiting for a reply before reaching forward with the device and beginning to tighten it around the boy's head.

"Yes, sir," Max replied, standing up a little straighter as the man complimented his behavior. He wanted so badly to try and act brave and take this like a man, but he was still a boy and he knew it. And no matter how much of a brave face he put on, he was scared. Being blinded didn't help that at all. It gave him flashbacks of being trapped in his bed last night and helpless. He had to constantly keep moving his arms and shifting from leg to leg just to make sure he was still free. He still trusted Michael, even though he probably shouldn't, especially after last night. But when he felt the man take his hands and lead him to the locked doorway underneath the staircase, he put up no resistance. He just followed him into the unknown.

***

After a slow descent down the dark staircase and what seemed like a long walk on the cold hard cement floor, Max heard another door unlock and open. Even without his sight, he could tell this door was heavier than most interior doors. He was led a few more steps forward and he heard the heavy door close and the lock engage once again. Then he felt the buckle being released from the back of his head and the blindfold came off.

Max didn't really know what to expect. The video he had seen before didn't show much except for the X shaped cross, so maybe he thought it would look like a medieval dungeon or something. But this was the last thing to cross his mind. In front of the boy was a stage. Small in size, but similar to the stage at a magic show or something. Not that he had ever seen one in person, but he could imagine. It was about 6 feet [2 m] wide and 3 feet [1 m] deep, and then another 3 feet [2 m] of curved section stuck out into the room. In the center of the front rounded section was a single wooden barstool. There were large red curtains hanging to the side and the back of the stage, and the wooden stage itself was completely painted red, with large white bulbs screwed into the front portion and two steps on either side leading up to the stage itself.

In front of the stage was three cameras spaced evenly apart on tripods. If he looked closely, he could see several large lighting fixtures hung on the dark ceiling and another set of three cameras hanging towards the back of the room. There were also lights and cameras above the stage itself, but he could see those, thanks to the short red curtain hanging from the ceiling in front of him. IN fact, there were a total of ten cameras in the room. Some were hidden pretty well and others, like the ones on the tripods were quite obvious. Behind the curtains on either side were two large devices covered in shiny red cloth, but from the shape, Max couldn't even begin to guess what they were.

Michael gave the boy a while to take it all in, then patted on the stool, motioning for him to climb up and take a seat. "What do you think?" he asked, still letting Max settle in. "I told you that you were going to be the star, so what better way to introduce you, than to put you on a stage of your own?" he said, almost as if the boy should feel lucky to be in such a setting for his first scene.

Max didn't really know what to think of his surroundings, but he had to admit, this seemed a lot less scary than a dungeon. And it did make him feel a little excited about starring in the show. "It's pretty cool, I guess. Is it going to be like a magic show?" he asked, still looking around the room as he set on top the stool.

"Kinda. You've heard of escape artists, right? They are magicians that get out of ropes, and chains, and straitjackets. They are pretty amazing. It takes years of practice and can sometimes be dangerous. Well, that is what you are going to be playing as tonight. If you actually do manage to escape one of these predicaments, then you will get a big reward. If not 3; oh well 3; at least it will make for a great scene," he said, shrugging as if he could care less whether the boy escaped or not. He already knew that he wouldn't, so he didn't even have to worry about what the reward would be. "Are you about ready to begin?"

Max looked more and more confused as Michael explained the scene. But he couldn't help but smile when he heard about a big reward. He didn't know what it meant to actually begin, but he shrugged and nodded his head a bit to the side, "I guess so."

"Good. First things first, I need you to read the lines that are on this poster. Just smile at the camera and say these words like they are your own. OK?" he said, turning around the black board to show the white side with a small paragraph written on it. He gave Max several seconds to read it over while he put on his own black mask. Then he motioned towards the boy to get his attention and began to count down with his hand 3; 5 3; 4 3; 3 3; 2 3; 1 3; POINT! He pointed right at Max, then at the board, wiggling his hand as if telling the boy to begin reading.

Max swallowed hard to try to get the lump out of his throat as he watched the man begin to count down. It was almost like he had forgotten how to speak. But as soon as Michael began the circular motion with his hand, his voice finally came back to him and he began to read the cue card.

Hello, my name is Max. Or for the sake of the next several videos you are going to see, you can simply call me 3; 'Bondage Boy'. You will get to join me and the Man in Black in dozens of new videos all starring 'me'. From bondage, to pain, to discipline, and humiliation, you will get to see it all. I am doing this of my own free will, just for you, our viewers. So welcome to the first episode 3; 'Bondage Boy as the failing Escape Artist'. Enjoy!

Michael stopped the camera and gave Max a bit of directing. Show more emotion here. Be more excited there. So on and so forth. It took another five shoots before the introduction was to Michael's liking. Then the real fun began. Michael walked around to the side of the stage and came up behind Max just as he finished his last line. He grabbed the boy from behind and lifted him off the stool, kicking it to the ground and off the stage. He slapped a lock on both wrist cuffs, pulling them tighter behind the boy's back than they had been the rest of the day. Only a single lock holding the cuffs together. No convenient chain this time.

Max was obviously surprised by the sudden movement and let out a yelp as he was lifted and roughly handled by the man. It didn't feel like acting or just a show any more. He was already beginning to wonder what he was in for.

Michael didn't say a word. He just forced the boy down to his knees, still holding his tightly cuffed hands behind his back. Once Max was down, Michael reached for both ankles and repeated the process of locking the cuffs together with a single lock. He then shoved the boy all the way down and let his struggling begin.

Max squirmed on the floor and tugged at his cuffs, trying to separate them or get into a comfortable position. He could also remember the promise of a reward if he escaped, so he was desperately trying anything to pull his hands or ankles free. But it wasn't happening. The cuffs were two tight and the locks was too strong. Still he had to admit, if this was it, at least this wasn't too bad.

While that thought was going through his head, Michael was walking over to one of the covered pieces of furniture. He pulled the cloth off of the one to his right and revealed a 4ft x 2ft x 2ft [120x60x60 cm] glass box with golden edges all around it and a flat lid that lifted open almost like a treasure chest. Max probably didn't notice, but the edges of the lid had an air tight seal on it, sorta like a refrigerator, meaning that once it was closed, no air would be going in or coming out of the box. Inside the box was what looked like some of the heaviest chains Max had ever seen. And even larger locks than anything that Michael had put on him so far. There was also a heavy looking metal shackle at one end. It was too wide to be made for an ankle, It looked more like a metal collar for his neck, but from his current angle, he couldn't tell what it was made for.

"For Bondage Boy's first trick 3;" Michael announced to the camera, "He will attempt to escape from the 'BOX OF DEATH'! Once he is properly secured and the box is closed, the boy will have maybe 15-20 minutes of air before he suffocates inside the box. Let's see if he can do it!"

Max gasped as he heard the announcement and turned to face Michael, still squirming to get out of the four simple cuffs and two locks. That, itself, already seemed impossible and he was about to be put in even more secure bondage. "NO! PLEASE! I 3; I don't want 3; You can't! PLEASE!" Max didn't know exactly how much whining was allowed in the videos before it was enough to cause a punishment. If a glass box meant to suffocate him was the lighter option, he couldn't imagine what kind of evil contraption was still covered on the other side.

"Oh, but your fans want to see it!" Michael responded to the boy's pleas. And with that, he reached down into the box and pulled a three foot [90 cm] long chain out and one of the large locks. He knelt down next to the struggling and now teary eyed boy and forced him onto his stomach. He then grabbed the cuffs around his ankles and forced the boy to fold his legs at the knees until he could get the ankle cuffs close to the wrist cuffs. From there, he took one end of the heavy chain and began to wrap it around both sets of cuffs bringing them closer and closer together. Once the chain was tightly wound enough, the boy's hands were hanging down past the bottoms of his feet and he could not separate them at all. Michael locked the heavy chain with the large padlock and let go.

Not only was Max left in a strict hogtie, but the weight of the chain pulled his arms and legs down so that they rested on his back. It was almost too heavy to even lift an inch or two into the air. And he was still trying desperately to pull his arms and legs free of the cuffs. "Please 3; let me go! I don't want to do this anymore. I don't want to go in the box. Please, d 3; Master, sir. Don't do this. I'm scared." Max was trying to reach the soft side of Michael, trying to make him look at him as his son and not as Bondage Boy.

But Michael seemed to be too deep into his uncaring character to be caught up even for a moment in guilt or sympathy. Already, he had grabbed another pair of chains from the box and two more locks. This time he wrapped the chains around the boy's lower legs and forearms. Bringing them tightly together and adding even more weight to his limbs. Two more locks went on and Max began crying out loud, unable to hold back the tears. Michael hadn't technically lied. This bondage didn't really hurt, per se, but it was very uncomfortable. And to make matters worse, Michael had already grabbed more chains, this time wrapping the boy's legs just above the knees, and his arms, just above the elbows. It wasn't quite as tight as the lower chain, so it didn't hurt his arms too badly, but it was more than effective enough to keep his arms from pulling apart.

The longest chain was then taken out of the box and wrapped long ways around the rest, from the opening between his upper arms and his body, all the way down under his upper leg chain, then all the way back up his back, not once, but twice. Then another lock was added. All that was left now was the large metal shackle, one more chain, and two more locks. It turns out the shackle wasn't for Max's neck. It was measured carefully and designed to fit around the upper portion of the boy's head. Right above the ears and all the way around his forehead and the back of his upper head. When the lock went through the two openings and one side of the short chain and was clicked shut, it felt like the kid's head was in a vice. It squeezed his head so hard that Max felt like his brain was going burst through the top of his skull. Then Michael finished off the ensemble by tugging back on the short chain, forcing Max's head to stare forward and lifted slightly. Once he had the tightness and angle he wanted, Michael locked the other end of the chain to the chain wrapped around the boy's lower legs.

Max had long since stopped his struggling. The amount of steel pressing down on his back from all the added bondage made movement almost impossible, let alone struggling or the possibility of any escape. The boy seemed completely weakened from what little struggle he had tried to put in. Even his cries had quieted a bit, and he had pretty much given up on the pleading. It wasn't until Michael bent down to lift the tightly bound package up and turn towards the box itself, that the boy was able to regain his voice. "NO! NO! NO! I don't want to die. Please! I can't escape. I can't do it. I can't get it off. Please! Don't let me suffocate. Don't put me in there! PLEASE! SIR! PLEASE!" The boy shook wildly in the man's hands, not even caring that a fall from this height with this much heavy bondage on him could probably do as much if not more damage than the Box could ever do.

It didn't matter though, Michael was too strong and had too tight a grip on him to let that happen. He did not want to hurt him. Only give him a nice scare so the video would be more effective. He carefully lowered the boy into the glass box, and gave him a little wink through the side of the box, before closing the lid. And securing it with the locks and clasps attached on the sides and front. "Alright, Bondage Boy. Try your hardest. The clock is running. If you control your breathing, you might have as long as thirty minutes. If you keep huffing and puffing like you are now, that time will be much much shorter."

There must have been a speaker hidden behind some of the gold framing, because Max could hear the words clearly, even though his own voice was bouncing all over the inside of the box. "PLEASE! Let me out! I 3; I can't breathe! LET ME GO! I DON'T WANT TO DIE!" he screamed. There was also a mic hidden inside the box, because the kid's please were being recorded clearly by the sound system and even playing through a speaker in the room, so Michael could hear him.

"Will our hero make it out in time? Will this be his first and last video ever? Click the button below to find out in the full length video," Michael said, in a silly announcer voice. He pushed a button on the remote in his pocket and stopped the recording for a moment, then knelt down next to the side of the Box to get Max's attention. "Listen, buddy. I'm not going to let you die, but I am going to wait for a little while so it looks like you might. I want it to look good for the video, but I won't let anything bad happen to you, ok?" he said, once again winking at the boy. "Breaks over, turning the camera back on in 3 3;2 3;1"

He didn't even give Max the time to reply before the cameras were rolling again. The boy had only been in the Box for maybe four minutes and could already begin to feel the air getting humid and dense, the first sign that his exhales were staying in there with him. He wiggled frantically, not sure whether he should believe Michael or not. It certainly felt like he was about to die. Max had begun to realize that the chains were mostly for show. The weakest point of this entire setup was still the leather cuffs. If he could just get one hand free, he could pull it through all the coiled up chains and use it to free his other hand out. From there, maybe he could push the lid off before he really began to suffocate. But as weak as the cuffs might have been in comparison to the chains, they were still more than enough to keep his hands held firmly in place. The boy did put up a good show, but still couldn't break free of a single restraint.

By now it had been closer to ten minutes. The glass on the box was beginning to get foggy and wet to the touch, at least on the inside. From the outside, you could still clearly make out the struggling boy. HIs struggles were getting weaker and his breathing was beginning to sound strained from the external speaker, but he still hadn't given up. He had stopped the begging and crying and was just focused on freeing himself. Of course, that was not going to happen.

Michael hadn't said anything since welcoming the 'paying' customers back after the break. He simply stood there and watched Max continue his struggle. He couldn't help but smile as he saw that the boy still hadn't given up. The videos were so boring when the sub just laid there and took it. Max was a fighter. That was something Michael had noticed in one of his first meetings with the boy. He didn't care that he was 12 and unlikely to ever be adopted. He fought hard to make Michael like him and choose him, and now he was fighting hard to find some way to escape this metal and glass prison. Unfortunately, the harder he fought, the quicker he was using his oxygen, and therefore, the faster he was weakening.

Max was beginning to really feel the effects of rebreathing his own carbon dioxide by now. If it wasn't for the shackle and chain, he wouldn't have been able to hold his head up any more. Even with the shackle, it was beginning to wobble side to side. His arms felt heavy and almost limp and lifeless. He couldn't feel his legs at all, and his chest was heaving for air so hard that it was actually lifting his body, chains and all up off the base of the box each time he struggled to get even an ounce of oxygen in. "Please 3; 3; Sir 3;" he begged weakly, trying to focus on Michael outside of the cage. "I 3; Can't 3; 3; 3; 3; 3;" And with that, all movement stopped, except for the erratic rising and falling of his chest. Max was out. He had passed out from lack of oxygen and was now literally seconds away from actually being suffocated.

Michael quickly pressed the stop button again on the remote and flew over to the box to press the quick release button. All the latches came off in an instant and the lid rose on its own. A blanket of cool fresh air fell over the boy, and even in his unconscious state he took in a deep breath of fresh air. Michael went to work removing all the locks and chains, even the locks holding his arms and legs close together with the cuffs. Max was completely free in less than a minute, but was still pretty much out of it. Michael laid him flat on his back on the floor of the stage to let him recuperate. Meanwhile, he grabbed the stool and put it back into interview position near the front of the stage.

It took another five or so minutes for Max to finally regain consciousness, and yet another ten minutes before he felt good enough to stand up and climb back on the stool. He looked a bit dazed though, but was able to keep himself up as Michael turned the cameras back on. "So 3; how was that?" Michael asked from behind the cameras.

"It 3; I don't know. I don't think I have ever felt that scared before in my life. I thought I was going to die. But all I can remember was a really exciting feeling. And then 3; I woke up and was free." Max was trying not to admit it out loud, but it was rather exhilarating to feel that near death experience while being chained up and trapped in the box.

"Is this something you think you want to do again?" Michael asked, continuing the after show interview.

Max took a while to answer. He had swore to himself moments after he went in the box that this was crazy and scary and he was running away the first chance he got and reporting this man. But now that it was over, he 'was' actually looking forward to the next one. It was kinda fun, now that he knew it was all make believe. "Umm 3; well 3; kinda," he finally admitted to the camera, blushing a bit as he did.

"Great job, Bondage Boy. We look forward to seeing you again soon," Michael said in his announcer voice, before stopping the cameras for the last time. He then took off the mask and smiled at the boy. "See? That wasn't too bad."

"Umm 3; dad?" Max began, assuming it was ok since the man's mask was off.

"Yes, son?" Michael answered.

"Can I ask what's under the other sheet?" he said, staring at the much taller contraption that had never been revealed on camera.

"You can ask 3;" Michael started, "But you won't get an answer until some time later."

The night following Max's first video recording was actually quite comfortable. He still wore the ankle and wrist cuffs, but they were no longer chained together. He was allowed to do pretty much anything he wanted, but he actually decided on his own that he wanted to go to bed kinda early. After the adrenaline had worn off from his near death experience, he realized how tired his body and his mind were.

Before bed, he gave Michael a big hug. It was true that he was the one that forced him into the deadly situation, but at least he saved him in the end, and he had been a pretty decent father, even if Max didn't really have a point of reference to compare him to. He had never experienced anything remotely 'fatherly' before. So he was beginning to enjoy any attention, even if was perverted bondage videos.

The boy once again put on some of his favorite pokemon pajamas and snuggled himself into his covers. The light was already off. The moon was shining in through the window, and a small amount of light was creeping under the door from the hallway. Max didn't even really need a nightlight. He was a big kid now. And after what happened earlier today, he proved he was brave and not some little scaredy cat. In fact, as far back as Max could remember, he had never been afraid of the dark, or had trouble sleeping. He couldn't even think of any time he ever had a nightmare. So once he was comfortable in bed, it didn't take more than a few minutes for him to fall into a deep sleep.

***

"AAAAaa!" Max sat up straight in bed and looked around. It must have been several hours later. The moon was no longer in the window and the hallway light was off now. Michael must already be in bed himself. Max could feel his skin crawling, goosebumps all over his exposed skin. He hugged himself tight and rubbed his lower arms to try to warm them up. He felt cold, but could also feel a thin layer of sweat on his body. What was that? He couldn't even remember the dream he was having, but obviously it had been enough to scare him awake. All he could remember was darkness. He felt like he couldn't move. Next thing he knew, he was awake and trembling. He took several deep breaths, and finally managed to lay back down and relax. Again, he was asleep in a matter of minutes.

Another hour or so went by, and for the second time in the same night, Max shot up straight awake out of the middle of his slumber. This time he didn't make a noise. He just gasped for air frantically, pushing on his own chest as if he was trying to force his lungs to work. It took a few seconds for him to catch his breath and breathe normally. This time the images from his dream were a little more vivid. He was basically reliving being trapped in the glass box from before. Only in the dream, Michael never let him out. He was suffocating, dying. In fact, maybe he did die. Even though he was wide awake now and obviously sitting on his own bed, he still felt scared that he was dead.

Max had to actually stand up and pace around his room for a moment to calm down. Once he was sure that everything was ok, he began thinking about the dreams. Obviously the second one was about the video recording earlier tonight. And now that he thought about it, the darkness and immobility of the first dream had to be about his sleeping conditions from the night before. He had managed to get through the two experiences because of how nice Michael had been afterwards. He had to admit that the second one had been kinda exhilarating, but the more he thought about it, he knew that it had been dangerous, and well 3; wrong.

Max stopped pacing and sat on the foot of his bed. He had thought so many times about running away in the past two days. He promised himself that he was going to do it as soon as he found a chance. Well, here he was, wide awake, no bondage, no locks. Michael was more than likely deep asleep. This was his chance. Bud did he really want to do this? What if he was caught. He knew he would obviously be punished by Michael, and what would that mean? ANd what if he succeeded? It would be a long walk into town. He could find a phone and call the cops, but then what? Back to an orphanage or foster home, never to find a real family of his own. Sure, Michael was using him as some sort of prisoner, but he was still his dad. But if only one day of this treatment was enough to give him nightmares, could he really live like this? NO. He had to try. He couldn't live with himself if he didn't at least try

That was it. Max was running away. Michael had to have a neighbor near by. All he had to do was get to another house, get to a phone, and call the cops. How hard could that be? He went to his closet and found the small duffle bag that he had brought with him from the orphanage. He tossed his Nintendo DS and several outfits into the bag, and zipped it up quickly. He put the strap around his shoulder and reached for the door knob. Please be unlocked. Please be unlocked. He gave it a turn and it easily opened into the hallway. One small step towards freedom.

He checked to make sure the hall was empty and that there no sounds of Michael being awake. The coast was clear. He crept down the stairs and made his way straight to the front door. Of course, that door was locked. Max jiggled the handle a couple of times, then reached to turn the lock on the knob itself. But there was nothing there. There seemed to be no physical lock to turn on the inside of the door. How was Michael ever able to open it? Max looked around on the wall and noticed a small panel that looked like an electronic keypad. The boy thought about it for a moment, trying to decide if he should try to figure out the code or something, or just go straight for another door. He was afraid what would happen if he entered the wrong code. There had to be other ways out of the house.

He checked the garage door, the back patio, even several windows. He could not find a way to open any of them. They were all sealed shut or secured by another electronic lock. Max was beginning to get the feeling that this escape attempt was going to fail, but he had to get out. He had already made the decision. He had to escape. The boy began to pace back and forth again, this time in front of the front door. The side windows to the left and right of the door were easily large enough for him to fit through, if only there was a way to break through.

With that, the boy sighed and grabbed a small metallic statue sitting on a shelf. He tossed it back and forth between his hands, once again considering his options. He gave himself a small nod of determination, raised the statue high above his head and began to swing it towards the glass. It was only a few inches away from making contact with the glass with all the might a 12 year old boy could muster, when suddenly the boy's arm came to a stop. Max looked up and saw a man's hand wrapped around his forearm, and immediately his skin began to crawl again and he felt the blood drain from his face. He was caught and he knew it.

Max quickly spun around and dropped the metal figurine. "Please 3; sir 3; I 3; I 3;" He stopped, not able to think of any reasonable explanation why he was about to smash a window and why he had a small bag packed.

"I know exactly what you are doing. I have been watching you for the last ten minutes, sneaking around the house and checking every possible exit. I have cameras all throughout this place and any movement in certain areas triggers an a silent alarm. You had to have known that this was a bad idea, buddy," Michael spoke in a calm tone, but the look on his face, especially in the dark moonlight looked completely uncaring and a little scary. Max knew he was in trouble, serious trouble.

"Please! I'm sorry. I just 3; I had a nightmare and I'm really scared. I 3; I 3; don't want to be tied up anymore. I just want to be a normal boy. It's not right. I want a real dad. I want to be a real son. Please! Don't 3; don't be mad," Max was already in tears by the end of his plea, because he knew that there was nothing he could say to stop what was about to happen.

"Upstairs. To your room. Get to bed. We will talk about this in the morning," was all Michael said, taking the bag from the boy and picking the statue up from the ground. He pushed the boy towards the stairs and followed behind him to make sure he made the climb and made his way back to his room ok. Once the kid was in his room, Michael closed the door and turned the lock on the outside. He then made his way back to his own room and back to his own bed.

Max had seen the clock at the top of the stairs. It was about 5am, which meant 'morning' and the talk that accompanied it was about 4 hours away. After two nightmares, and the threat of his own impending doom, Max knew he wasn't going to be sleeping anymore tonight. He simply laid on his bad and began to cry. The fear of the unknown punishment ahead of him was scarier than anything he might see in his dreams.

***

Max laid silently in his bed for the next four hours, just staring at the door in the dark, waiting for the knob to turn. By now, the sun was shining through his window and the birds were chirping. He knew the door would open any minute now. He had already heard Michael up and walking around. He must have been getting something ready for Max's punishment. What was it going to be? More chains? Ropes? Electricity? Suffocation? There were the footsteps again. Getting closer, right in front of his door, stopping. Max held his breath as the lock was turned and the door opened. Michael didn't look upset or angry, but he did have the dreaded black bag in one hand. Strangely, he was carrying the boy's Nintendo DS in the other hand.

As usual, Michael took a seat at the foot of the boy's bed, and patted the spot behind him. "Sit up, bud. Come sit by me. We need to have that talk I promised," He said, taking the normal father tone once again. Max was a bit surprised by the tone and the man's kind smile, but he was still terrified of whatever was about to happen and didn't want to give any excuse to make it worse on himself. He sat up and moved to the spot without ever looking the man in the eye. He just stared down at his feet hanging over the side of the bed.

"What you said last night made me think. I know you wanted a real dad, and wanted to be a real son. Unfortunately, I wanted something a little more. I tried to think of a way to explain this situation to you in a way you would understand and as I was looking through your bag this morning, it hit me," Michael said, almost sounding sad or sympathetic towards the boy's complaints.

He held up the gaming device and showed the pokemon starting menu. "You know 3; I know a little bit about this game. I played it myself when I was younger. The graphics weren't nearly as clear, but it was still fun. I even watched the cartoon as a teenager. I know it's a kid's show, but still, I liked it. Think about it for a minute. A young man captures these little creatures. He holds them prisoner in tiny little balls, and forces them to fight other creatures, whether they want to or not. And even though they lose these fights from time to time, and 'faint', he still takes care of them. And they grow stronger with each fight and become great friends with the boy. Right?"

Max knew the game and the show very well, but he had never really thought about it in that way. "I.. guess that's right," the boy agreed.

"Well, that's how I want our relationship to be. You are my son. I am your father. Yes, you might also be my prisoner, and I might make you do things you don't want to do. But it is going to make you stronger. And I promise, even if you fail these 3; well 3; battles, I will still take care of you and help you to heal and feel better. And I really hope that after some time, we will become more than just a father and son. I hope we will become best friends," Michael said, leaning over to give the boy a tight hug.

The explanation and the hug made Max actually feel a lot better, but there was a part of him that knew that there was going to be more to it than just a nice little talk. The man hadn't even unzipped the bag yet. There had to be something in there. "I'm really sorry 3; um 3; dad. I never thought of it like that. I promise I won't try to run away again (at least not from the house, he thought to himself.) I know what I did was bad. Please, though, don't 3; I learned my lesson. I don't need to be punished, ok?" He said, hoping that the talk would be enough.

"I believe you, buddy, I do. But there has to be a punishment when you do something bad, especially when it's that bad. But remember, I will still take care of you and this will make you stronger in the end," MIchael said, bending down to pick up the bag. He set it between the two of them on the bed and unzipped it. "Because you betrayed my trust and tried to runaway, you have lost your status as my son for the day. But not unlike your pokemon friends, you still have a place in this house." He took out the main item in the bag and unfurled it so Max could see what it was.

It was a suit made of mostly leather with some foam rubber parts. It was a head to toe suit made to resemble a brown and black puppy dog. The arms ended with large padded 'paws'. The legs had matching paws at the bottom and what looked like thick padding around the knees. There was even a hood attached that had fake puppy ears sticking out of the top and a long snout where the mouth and nose would be. "Today, you are going to be my pet puppy. Consider this training and a punishment. For the rest of the day, until it's time for tonight's video, you will not be allowed to talk as a boy, eat as a boy, act as a boy. You will be a puppy and you will act like one. Understand?"

Max looked at the suit, confused, but did nod to the man's questions. How bad could it be to be a puppy? Maybe it would even be kinda fun. "That's it?" He asked after a few seconds of consideration. He actually thought it was going to be a lot worse than that.

"That's it," Michael answered laying the suit out on the bed. "Go ahead. Get dressed."

Chapter 7

Max still felt that there was something that the man wasn't telling him, but he wasn't about to get himself into any more trouble. How bad could it be to just wear a costume all day. At least he wasn't being suffocated or tied down so tight that he couldn't move a muscle. He slid off the bed and landed on both feet on the floor, then began to undress out of his pajamas. He stopped when he got to his underwear, though. Then slowly picked the suit up and began to look it over. It's just a costume. It's not going to hurt me, he thought to himself.

Just as it looked like he was about to put the suit on, Michael cleared his throat. "Max, buddy 3; do puppies wear underwear?"

"No 3; but 3;" Max began to answer, then simply shook his head and sighed, as he reached down and began to tug the red and white briefs from his body. As soon as they were off, he quickly reached for the suit again.

"Ah. Ah. A few more things." Michael said, walking over with a small key in his hand. One by one, he removed the cuffs that were currently around the boy's wrists and ankles. He even removed the collar that he had given the boy the night before, leaving him completely naked from head to toe. "Now 3; go ahead."

Max quickly grabbed the costume, not wanting to stand there naked any longer than he needed to. He noticed that the back of the suit was completely open. There was a long zipper running from the 'butt' of the suit all the way up to the neck. It was pretty simple to figure out how to put it on. He put his feet in first, pushing them almost all the way down to the padded paws at the bottom, but just before the paws, the material seemed to get a bit tighter, so he had to sit on the bed to push his feet in all the way. While seated, he pushed his arms into the two sleeves. Unlike a normal shirt, his hands did not come out at the end. They two met a bit of tightness, and since the material was too thick to do much with his hands in that position, he simply turned to look at Michael. "I can't get them in all the way," he said, looking a bit worried that if he didn't do it by himself, then he would earn additional punishment.

Michael didn't seem to mind, though. He simply reached down to the boy's ankles first and gave each leg of the suit a bit of a tug to make sure that his feet were in their proper compartments, then while he was down there, he reattached the two ankle cuffs that the boy had been wearing before. Max could feel how they were tightened, and knew that he wouldn't be able to pull his feet back out of the padded paws as long as the cuffs were there. But he kept his mouth shut and didn't say a word. Meanwhile, Michael moved up to his wrists and repeated the process. He gave each sleeve a tug and the boy's hands popped into the large cartoonish looking paws of the suit. Then, the cuffs went back on, trapping his hands in the heavy rubber padding.

Max tried to move his hands around and noticed that the 'fingers' of the paws didn't move at all. It was like both of his hands were completely useless rubbery paw shaped pillows. He sighed, but again, remained silent. Michael patted on the center of the bed and snapped his fingers, as if he was trying to get an actual puppy to move into a new position. "Up 3; up, boy. On all fours." He said, already playing his role as the puppy's master. Max sighed again and pulled his legs up onto the bed and took his position in the center of the mattress on his new hand paws, and his padded knees.

In this position, it was easy for Michael to pull the zipper up to the back of the boy's neck, sealing him in the outfit. He also pulled the hood into position, covering the sides of the boy's head with soft padded leather. The 'muzzle' landed over Max's nose, but he found large holes that allowed for easy breathing. It covered part of his upper lip, but left his bottom lip mostly open, which would help when it was feeding time. The front of the hood attached to the front of the suit with two velcro pieces and another, much shorter zipper. Inside, Max couldn't feel the metal teeth of the zipper. He just felt the soft padding on the underside of the velcro. Same thing for the zipper along his back. Once the hood was positioned and zipped up, Michael put the collar back on the boy. Max could feel the lock on the back of his neck being put through the buckle, and he also felt a slight tug on the zipper.

Even without seeing it, he knew what was about t happen. Just as he heard the click, he realized that the suit was now locked to the collar, and without a key, he was definitely not getting out. Hell, even if he got ahold of the key, he knew his hands were useless. He would never be able to grip it. He just had to endure this for as long as Michael made him do so. The man was double checking all the cuffs and the collar, and made sure everything was as it was supposed to be. Then he smiled and took a step back. He reached down to pull something else out of the bag. Max turned his head and cringed, guessing that nothing good could come out of the bag. But luckily, it appeared to just be a plain black hand mirror. "What do you think, puppy? Don't you look cute?" Michael said in a proud voice as he turned the mirror to show Max what he looked like.

"I guess it's alright," Max said, obviously embarrassed, but again, he told himself it was just a costume.

Michael couldn't help but smile to himself as the boy fell into his first trap. He sighed and shook his head, then reached back into the bag and pulled out a black wooden device that Max easily recognized from his years growing up in a Catholic orphanage. It was a paddle. And unlike the one used at the orphanage, this one was a lot larger and thicker. The boy began to shake his head, but didn't get a single word out before the wooden object was swung at his leather covered ass.

"OW!" Max yelled, trying to reach back to rub his butt, but he couldn't even feel it through the thick rubber of his new paws. The leather on his ass had softened the blow a little, but the force and size of the paddle had been more than enough to bring him quite a bit of pain. He could already feel tears welling up after the single blow, but his eyes opened wide as he saw Michael rear back for another one. Max moved his hands just in time before the paddle came down a second time with as much, if not more force than the first one. "Please! STOP! I'm SORRY!" Max screamed, tears now falling from his eyes. He knew there was more to this punishment than just the costume. But he hadn't expected a spanking. He was just supposed to wear the costume and act like a 3; that was it! He saw Michael preparing for a third strike and turned his puppy hooded head at the man and quickly let out a pained 'yelp', just like a scared puppy might do if it was about to be struck by an item.

Michael paused mid swing and looked at the puppy boy on the bed, with an eye brow raised. This stare down lasted for several seconds before Max sighed and let out another little 'yip', then a louder 'BARK'. He was pleading with the man with his eyes, and out loud in his best puppy imitation 3; 'Please 3; no more.'

"That's a good boy," Michael finally said as he set the paddle on the bed and reached over to pet the boy behind his fake ears. "Puppies don't talk or say 'Ow' or 'beg' like humans, do they?"

Max simply whimpered, not unlike a dog. His butt still stung and he still had tears in his eyes, but he did shake his head slightly from side to side to answer the man's question.

Michael gave him another pet and a few pats on the head, then reached down for the bag one more time. "Now, I don't want to have to paddle you all day when you do something you're not supposed to, so we need to add one more little thing to your outfit." He said, pulling a small back box out of the bag and reaching for the back of the boy's collar. Max would feel a small opening just above the zipper of the suit, and then something that felt like two coins on a flat surface being slid in through the opening. It was a clip on the underside of the black box. The two metal circles made contact with the boy's skin, and the larger portion of the box clipped to the collar around his neck.

"This is a shock collar. Just like real puppies wear when they are being trained. Now, for dogs, it doesn't hurt too bad. It's like a little tingle that just reminds them not to do a certain behavior. But because human bodies are bigger, the shock is a bit more painful. Because you just got a spanking, I am not going to show you, but if I were you, I would try and remember what a puppy can and cannot do, because if you act like a 'boy' you earn a shock. But if you are a good puppy, then we don't need to worry about that, do we?" He said, once again patting the boy's head like a good doggy.

Max shook his head again, a bit quicker this time, obviously scared to death about being shocked by the device he could feel pressing against the back of his neck. Then he became worried that shaking his head was too 'human', so he stopped and just let out a single bark, "Woof!"

Michael laughed a bit and petted behind the boy's ears once again. "That's right, puppies don't nod. But I still want you to answer me when I ask a question. That's good training. How about this? If the answer is yes, you bark one time like you just did. And if it's no, then you bark two times. If you don't understand or you need my attention or something, then just bark more than two times, ok?"

Max really did not want to answer, but it was a question and he would rather humiliate himself than feel what the shock collar felt like, so he hung his head and let out a single 'Woof'.

"Good boy. Now 3; you must be hungry. You want some breakfast?" Michael said, hopping to his feet and patting his leg as if to get his puppy to follow.

That was the first good thing Max had heard this morning 3; breakfast. He let out another loud 'woof' and went to slide his feet back to the ground again. Only this time as the padded surface of his puppy paws touched the ground, the memory foam material on the inside of the paws began to sink down as they took on more and more of the boy's weight. Then suddenly, Max jumped back onto the bed and used his padded hands to grab at one of his feet as if he had just stepped on a sharp LEGO or something on the ground.

"Aww 3; did puppy hurt himself trying to walk on two feet like a human?" Michael said, with a knowing smile on his face. "Do puppies walk on two feet?"

Max was still confused by the sudden pain in his feet. He didn't realize that the soft foam lining hid several small tacks lined up to stab his toes and the soles of his feet should he put any pressure on them at all. He hadn't even considered the fact that he wouldn't physically be able to walk on two legs. But it was obvious that crawling was going to be expected as long as he was in this suit and playing the part of the puppy. He sighed again and let out two quick barks, then carefully tried to get off the bed and onto his knees without putting any pressure on his feet at all.

"Good boy!" Michael said once again when the boy finally passed his first test and managed to get into the proper puppy position. "Now let's go eat!" The man led the way, into the hallway and towards the stairs. Max followed as quickly as he could. Crawling through the hallway wasn't too bad, but when he got to the stairs, he had to slow down and take them one step at a time. This was even worse than climbing the stairs in his short chain from the night before. He had to get his two knees on one step and balance his hands on the other, without being able to really grip the step at all, thanks to the thick rubber padding surrounding his hands. But eventually he did make it to the main level of the house.

By now, Michael was already in the kitchen. Max didn't really want to crawl anymore than he had to, so he decided to just head for the dining room and wait there for Michael to bring out his food. He crawled his way to the dining room table and began to pull a chair out to sit in, but he paused as soon as he wrapped his arms around one of the seats and began to pull. Max was a smart boy, and a quick learner. Talking got him a hard spanking; standing made him prick his feet on sharp tacks; what might sitting in a chair do to him? He shuddered at the thought as he remembered those two metal circles pressing against the back of his neck. He used his shoulders to press the chair back into its normal position and just moved over to the wall and sat on the floor, resting his knees. Hopefully Michael wouldn't punish him for sitting in a non-puppy fashion. He wasn't going to be able to stay on his knees all day. He would be super sore by the afternoon, let alone evening.

He sat like that, with his legs stretched out straight in front of him and his back against the wall until he saw the swinging doors between the kitchen and dining room begin to move, then quickly hopped back up to his knees and put his hands in his lap. He didn't want to take any chances.

Michael came into the room carrying a tray with what appeared to have scrambled eggs, bacon, ham, fresh fruits, toast, milk, and juice on it. But it looked like there was only the one plate, and a single cup of each liquid, obviously only for one person. He set the tray on the table in his normal spot and turned to look at the puppy against the wall. "Good boy. Remembering that puppies don't belong at the dining table." He said, ripping off a small amount of his own bacon and tossing it on the floor in front of the boy. "Have a treat." He said, turning to head back towards the kitchen without another word.

Max simply stared at the bacon on the floor. Was he actually expected to eat that off the carpet? Sure, the carpet looked pretty clean, but still 3; eating food off the ground was just 3; well 3; gross. He was still staring when Michael returned carrying something new in his hands. It was a large metal device with a handle on each side. The metal frame moved from the handles and down to four posts, maybe a foot or so long with little rubber feet on the bottom. Then in the middle of this frame, there were two large chrome bowls being supported by the metal. Michael set the frame down in the corner of the dining room, and patted his leg once again, trying to get the pup's attention. "Here, boy. Here's your breakfast."

Max watched with eyes wide as the man lowered the two dog bowls to the floor. The stand at least brought the bowls up a little off the ground, so it was closer to his face, but was he really expected to eat from the bowls 3; like a dog? And what was worse, was the sight that he saw when he got close enough to look into the bowls. In one, seemed to be plain water. Nothing out of the ordinary there. But the other 3; Max had no idea what was in it. It looked like a reddish brown sludge. Mostly solid, but there was at least a bit of liquid in it. In reality, it was the same thing that Michael was eating, minus the fruit and the orange juice. Bacon, ham, eggs, toast, and milk 3; blended together in a blender. It was completely safe and healthy for the boy to eat, but did not look appetizing in the least, and probably did not taste all that good either.

Max's stomach seemed to turn just from looking at the slop, but as his nose got a whiff of it, he actually retched a bit and took a step back, shaking his head. Eating bacon off the ground was nothing compared to this. He backed up until he saw the bacon he had neglected moments ago, and quickly bent down to pick it up with his mouth and ingest it. It was something, at least. Because he would rather go without than eat whatever was in that bowl.

Michael simply stood there and watched the scene unfold before letting out a small laugh and taking his own seat. "Now, it wouldn't be very good for my little pup if it went hungry and didn't eat, would it? In fact, I think a pup that disrespects its master and refuses to eat what it is served deserves to be punished, don't you?" He asked, turning to give the boy a stern look as if he expected a response. Max was still shaking his head a bit from side to side, and even added a couple of barks to answer the question with a resounding 'no'. "Yes, Yes!" Michael said, purposely misinterpreting the boy's response. "I think you're right. It deserves double punishment. So 3; let's do this 3; if the pup decides not to eat its food, it gets too shocks to the back of its neck. AND 3; from now on, however many punishments the pup earns makes tonight's video that much more 3;" He paused, as if trying to decide the best word to use, 'unpleasant'.

If the man could see the entirety of the boy's face, he would see how pale it became at the mention of not only a double punishment, but also a worsening of whatever was planned for him at the end of the day. Again, his head shook in small quick motions. Even his arms and legs seemed to be shaking in complete fear. He had to choose the lesser of two evils. Painful shocks and something terrible later, or eat the disgusting looking and smelling sludge in his dog bowl. 'His?' did he actually just think of the bowl as 'his'? He hadn't even been a puppy for an hour and already he was beginning to think like one. He shook his head again and took a deep breath, trying to calm himself as he slowly approached the bowls once again. He swallowed hard and brought his face close to the disgusting mixture in his bowl, but stopped and backed away once again, feeling a bit of bile come up in his throat.

Surely the man wouldn't poison him. He did say that he loved him and didn't want to harm him. So the stuff might be gross but it wouldn't kill him, right? He moved to the bowls again, but this time lapped up some of the water from the second bowl to try and calm his stomach and get the taste out of his throat from whatever it was that was trying to come up a moment ago. 'Here it goes, just a small bite,' he told himself, taking another deep breath and finally reaching into the food bowl and taking a small nibble of the mess that was within it.

He was kinda surprised. It wasn't 'good' by any means, but it wasn't as bad as he thought it would be. He could make out some of the individual tastes and realized what was in the puree in front of him. It was just a normal breakfast, just mixed together. That thought alone probably kept him from barfing right there into the bowl. It was 'normal' food. He could eat it and he wouldn't die. He took another calming breath and took a slightly larger bite, pushing the leather muzzle in front of his nose into the bowl so he could get his mouth around the food. It was humiliating, but it was better than being shocked. Every few bites, he would stop and lap up some water, which made the food that had stuck to his nose get rinsed off and begin to float in his drink.

Over the next several minutes, his water became messier and messier, but his food was slowly beginning to disappear. Meanwhile, Michael took most of his breakfast to enjoy just watching the boy eat his food and suffer from the humiliation, the taste of his breakfast mix, and disgusting mess he was making of his face and his bowls. It was quite the sight to see. But Michael did eventually begin eating his own food, and by the time he was finished, it seemed that Max was pretty much done as well.

"Good boy. Good boy!" Michael said, standing up and patting the messy kid on the head. "See. It wasn't that bad, was it?" He asked, not really caring if the kid gave a response this time or not. "I should make you clean up and do the dishes, but I guess that's not really a puppy's job, is it? Why don't you just wait here until I get everything cleaned up, then maybe we can go outside and play. Would you like that?"

Max didn't know if he should answer or not, but playing outside did sound better than pretty much anything else he could think of, so he did finally let out a single bark after that offer was made. Then he simply sat there and watched as Michael began to clear the table and take his bowls back into the kitchen. Max could hear the water running in the other room as he sat there waiting for the man to return. And suddenly, he remembered something. Michael had been his room as soon as he woke up in the morning, to give him his little lecture. Normally, the first thing the boy did when he woke up was take care of a few of his personal 'needs'. But he had been so distracted with the thought of his impending punishment and Michael's little talk, that he had forgotten all about that. And then getting used to being a puppy distracted him 3; then breakfast. Now though, now that he had time to just sit and think with the sound of water in the background, those 'needs' were beginning to make themselves known in a powerful way.

He sat there and took another deep breath and began to push his little legs closer together, hoping that Michael would finish soon and allow him to use the bathroom before going outside. But then he thought of another problem. How 'could' he use the bathroom? He couldn't use his hands at all. He couldn't stand up. He couldn't remove the suit without Michael unlocking it and removing his collar and cuffs. He was trapped, just like he was in bed the night before last. And that night, Michael had just let him pee on himself. Was that what was going to happen today? Was he going to have to pee inside the suit and then wear it all day?

It was that exact moment that Michael appeared back in the dining room with a big smile on his face. Once again, he could see the boy's body language and seemed to know exactly what he was thinking, but he didn't let Max in on that just yet. He simply patted his leg again and began to head towards the dining room doors. "Who's ready to go outside?" He said in a cheerful voice, leading the way out to the main foyer. Max got into his crawling position and began to follow the man. He figured that he couldn't really use his barks to relay the message he wanted to in this room, but once they were standing outside the bathroom near the back door, maybe he could.

He crawled while still trying to keep his legs pressed together to keep pressure on his bladder, which made his little ass swing back and forth in a very funny looking way as they walked down the main hall and into the foyer. He was actually whimpering a little bit when they turned to had towards the back door. He had to go so bad that it was actually beginning to hurt a little. Finally, they passed by the bathroom door and the boy came to a complete stop and began to bark multiple times, trying to get Michael's attention. "Woof! Woof! Wooof! Yip Yip! Bow wow!" He made as much noise as he could, desperately trying to get the man to understand what he needed, as he brought his front paws down to his crotch and turned to look at the closed wooden door outside of the bathroom.

"Aww 3; what is it, boy?" Michael said, turning and bending down so he was right in front of the boy pup. "Do you need to go potty?"

"WOOF!" One quick, loud bark came from the boy as he nodded his head emphatically and then turned to the bathroom door once again.

"Silly, pup. Dogs don't use the bathroom like humans do 3; do they?" Michael said, pausing long enough that Max knew he was supposed to answer.

"Woof 3; Woof." Two short barks, much quieter and much sadder than the last one had been. Again, Max was a quick learner. He knew perfectly what Michael was implying as soon as he said those words. He was smart enough to realize that there was only one way that the man was going to allow him to pee, and he turned to look at the back door as that thought dawned on him. This was going to be a long day, he thought to himself.