Unknownwriter

Joe's Job

Preface

Joseph Marshall spent most of his time up in the attic of the nursing home his parents owned and ran, where he'd set up what he always referred to as his 'movie set'. At first his parents had been concerned, that the grief following the death of his unlikely best friend may have been getting to him, but when they'd been shown selected highlights of the footage Joseph had taken with his digital video camera, they'd relaxed thinking that another hobby was just what the fourteen year old needed..

But they didn't know the half of it.

Mr. Marshall had bought the old house, so he could convert it into the home, which was just as well as the building had come with a sitting tenant who became the home's first resident nearly ten years earlier. So it was that young Joe – as he liked to be called – had spent time in the company of old Fred Clark, gradually, and totally without knowing it, breaking down the barriers the old guy had built up throughout his life. The reason for this was easy. Unlike everyone else, a small boy doesn't really care about an old man's past, his money, or any secrets, and as Fred Clark had a lot of all those things, that was just as well.

So it was that the boy and man got on well, so well that Mr and Mrs. Marshall stop feeling guilty about leaving their son with the old man while they set about building up their business. By the time it was thriving, Joseph started to help out around the home, albeit mostly with Fred Clark, and yet it was the old man, who came up with the idea for the boy to move into the attic, so that his former room could be used for another client. He even paid for the space to be cleaned out, and made habitable, with able space for Joseph to set up a studio for his ever growing hobby of photography and film making.

When Joseph became a teenager, old Fred started to get ill, but although he didn't hide it from the boy, he made sure Joe had enough to do, making video diaries, for the other residents, to send to their relatives – especially those who never visited. Fred himself never made one, as he no longer had any living relatives, but, upon juvenile pestering promised to write his life story down so it could read once he was gone.

Joe enjoyed this work and would, on occasion act out, as best he could, some of the more interesting stories, up in his attic, for the guests, for Fred, for his parents, but mostly for himself, as the more he heard about the olden days from those who'd lived through it, the more he liked the idea of the controlled freedom people of his age had had back there.

Then Fred Clark died.

It didn't come as a shock to anyone, least of all, Fred, so no one was surprised, but that didn't stop them from being upset, yet, in keeping with the old man's wishes, Joe himself organised a party to celebrate the old man's life, where the other residents and the Marshall's eat the old man's favourite food and watched his TV shows on the TV. All in all it was a very fitting tribute that contained a surprise at the end.

"Here you go son," Mr Marshall handed his son a thick envelope. "Fred wanted you to have this after he was gone."

"Why don't you take it upstairs and read it in private and we'll clear up down here." The boy's mother added.

Chapter One

Slowly the fourteen year old pulled on the cord that would release the stairs leading up to his attic bedroom. His heart felt heavy at the loss of the old man that had been his friend for nearly as long as he could remember and yet, there was also a sense of excitement, at the contents of the package of papers he was carrying that would, he was certain hold all of Fred's secrets. He knew a lot about the man's life from their ten years of companionship, and yet, unlike all the other residents in the nursing home Fred had never spoken of his childhood. The one part of someone's life that Joe was the most interested in for reasons, he was never sure off.

Climbing the stairs, Joe pauses at the top to pull them back up after him, effectively shutting himself in, whilst preventing anyone from walking into the steps as per the health and safety rules.

The attic was divided into two. The part nearest the door looked pretty much as you would expect a fourteen year old's living space to look like, cluttered with gadgets, and generally in a mess that may, or may not, have been organised. Beyond that though, was a very different story indeed. That was the area Joe used for filming both his public and private films and while it also resembled a boy's bedroom, that one was a good fifty years out of date, and not a teenager's room.

Before the boy had moved in the attic had been used for nothing more than storage for items, the nursing home couldn't use, as they were out of fashion, as well as quite a bit of furniture that had been there when they moved in.

A metal framed bed was in the centre, which was both higher, and smaller than the modern one on the other side of the attic. It also had sides that could be raised and lowered on both sides, that latched to the end, forming a grill around the single, hard mattress. The reason for this was, Joe guessed to prevent the occupant from falling out as they had similar down stairs, but if that was the case, then why did it also have a lip that could be flopped over and locked with a padlock!

The rest of the furniture was fairly standard, at least to begin with. An old overstuffed arm chair in one corner, while in the other, was an old style wooden school desk, and chair that sat facing a portable blackboard, in front of a notice board fixed to the side wall. A wardrobe was on the other side, which had clearly seen better days, as the varnish was cracked, although thankfully the full length mirror on the outside of the door wasn't. The door though was locked tight, and nothing Joe had been able to do, had changed that.

These were the items that had been left in the attic as they'd been too heavy to be moved out of the young boy's way when he'd moved in, and for a while they made for a great set, as he re-enacted some of the childhood tales he was being told by the senior citizen's living out their days one the floors beneath him, but eventually, as is a boy's way, Joe started to peer deeper into the things the attic held.

Behind the door that separated both the attic's habitual rooms more items were stored, and these Joe started to sort through. Most were of no interest to him, but some items caught his attention more than others as they just didn't seem right, namely the pushchair and the highchair.

Naturally Joe had seen things like this before, just not in the size they were. Both were more than a little sturdy, no doubt due to the time when they'd been made, but they were also much larger than any baby would have needed.

The pushchair, was formed from solid metal, and a blue canvas seat, and, as Joe had discovered, was easily big enough for a teenager like himself to sit in. The high chair was also his size. That was made from wood, painted white, and was so high that once he was sat in it, his feet were clear of the floor by some inches, especially if he put down the hinged table across his lap, and latched it into place.

Joe became intrigued about both the pushchair and the highchair and even took to sitting in the latter to eat when he was up in the attic, and in the former if he was reading. However before he could do that he had to change, not out of, but into his school uniform.

It had started, three years earlier as a joke, around how smarter boys had been in the olden days when Joe had announced to the bemusement of the residents that the secondary school he was starting that year, didn't have a uniform policy and he could wear what he wanted. So it was, that on the first day of term at his new school Joe had dressed in his trendiest jeans and sweat shirt, and although the residents did say he looked nice, he just wasn't smart like a schoolboy should be.

Two years passed with the subject of his school wear rearing its un-smart head every now and again, until with Joe's thirteenth birthday approaching it took on an added edge with Fred joking that, seeing as Joe was becoming a teenager, he should be getting his first pair of long trousers. The boy had laughed at this for, if anything, the opposite turned out to be true as modern boys like himself just wouldn't do it unless for sport, and even then, those 'shorts' were often bigger than their normal trousers. This was something Fred was more than aware of, but then that was the entire point of the 'joke' present he bought the boy that year.

The look on the newly thirteen year old Joe's face, when he opened his present was still something the residents talked about, and not just because it was captured on the video Joe himself had made of the event. The bemusement clear on his face as he held up the grey v-neck jumper, white shirt, stripped tie, long socks, and finally the grey school shorts. Still he'd got his own back, later that day, filming the residents' own surprised faces when he'd worn the uniform for the rest of the weekend.

From, more or less, that day on, Joe discovered just how comfortable a good fitting pair of shorts were, and started to wear them more and more, around the home, to the obvious delight of the residents, even if it did get him the occasional odd look, and comment, from some of the people coming to see the old people.

It was the same routine whenever he returned to the home from a trip into the outside world – where the wearing of shorts by teenagers just didn't happen – Joe would remove the 'normal' baggy clothes and step back into time, when boys looked smart and showed their knees.

The transformation was slow, deliberate and carefully thought out and didn't start until Joe was completely naked. His boxer shorts were the last thing to leave his body, even though Joe had nothing to replace them with, as the shorts Fred had bought him, just were too short to hide his underwear, and there was no way he could buy anything like that, as the only way he could get into town was in the home's minibus, driven by his dad.

The shirt was the first thing the boy put on. Long sleeved and not quite as white as it had once been, thanks a slight hiccup in the washing machine, he buttoned it all the way up to the neck, whilst ensuring the cuffs were also fastened correctly. The collar would then be lifted up so the tie could be threaded around it, before being knotted in the small neat way Fred had taught him.

The shorts were next, taken from where they were folded up in his chest of drawers, shaken open and the slid up his legs, until they reached his waist. Then the slight pause while the tails of his shirt were tucked in before the button was fastened in the middle, the clasp taken around the side, and the fly zipped up.

Joe sat on his bed to pull the socks onto his feet and then up over his shins, where his normal socks never went. When they reached his knees, he carefully folded them down again, until the darker stripes around the top – which matched the tie – showed equally, and level, on each leg.

Finally Joe reached under his bed, where the brown polished shoes sat during the day, waiting for his trainers to come of so they could be slipped on, and laced up with a small neat bow, to complete his transformation from scruffy teenager into a nice, tiny schoolboy.

As he always did when he'd finished dressing Joe turned to the mirror for a moment, to ensure the gel was brushed out of his hair, which no long stood up, by lay flat all over his head.

Naturally the mirror also allowed him to examine, once more, the way he looked in the school shorts, especially the way they clung to his body, in a way his normal trousers just didn't. Pulling his bottom both in and up, until it curved out into what the old times would call a 'bubble bum'. His thighs, exposed beneath the mere three inches of leg, were rather pale, although his knees did have a little colour in them. Still all and all, the uniform, and the shorts in particular, did what the old people always said they did. They made him look younger. Only a few years, but it was a look that Joe liked a lot, and which would be just right for reading whatever Joe had left for him.

As usual it took a minute or two for Joe to settle into the stroller, as without underwear, things tended to shift into places that would need adjusting before he was able to finally open the envelope he'd been given and remove the contents.

A sheaf of papers, covered in the familiar handwriting of his old friend soon laid on the small desk, Joe had parked the buggy beside, so he could look at the one thing he hadn't expected to find. A photograph that, according to the date on the back, showed his friend, at the same age he now was. Only he didn't look it.

The black and white photo showed a sturdy looking boy, with combed hair, standing at attention in what Joe recognised as the gardens of the house he was now living in, dressed in a grey V-neck sweater, with lines – probably school colours – around the V, which matched the neatly knotted tie, and a similar band around the top of the socks, pulled up tight to the underside of his knees. Shoes that were so highly polished that they shone even in the colourless photography, were on his feet, but and which Joe recognised at once. The boy was wearing, more or less exactly what he was wearing. But, unlike Joe, the boy in the photo wasn't alone.

Stood beside the teenager was another boy, who judging by his relative height, was probably just that age, and yet he was dressed normally for the time, wearing long trousers and he was holding something that appeared to be connected to the teenager's back.

Eventually the questions forming inside Joe's head turned him from the photo towards the written words that would, he hopped, explain just what was going on.

I guess you are wondering about the photo aren't you Joe. Well, that is me, and my little brother Tom. I would have been around your age then, fourteen or so, and Tom had just turned ten, and we had something of an unusual relationship, as he was in total control of me.

I don't recall exactly how it started, but it probably had something to do with the harness that I'm wearing in that photo, so I should start by explaining about that.

Back when I was younger children were very much seen and not heard, and were expected to do everything an adult told them, or else there would be consequences, as I'm sure you've heard from the other old folks, but there were things that ensured this happened. One of them was the child harness.

It was designed to keep toddler from wondering off from their parents, and usually consisted of a chest-plate that went on their chest, which was held in place by straps that went around and fastened at the rear. Two shoulder straps went over the top to keep it from dropping down, and some had a crotch strap that went down between the child's legs and to stop the harness from going upwards. All in all, once it was on, the toddler just couldn't get it off which, after all, was the point.

The harness usually came with several D shaped rings in various places so it could be attached to the child's high chair or their push chair, or onto which a walking rein could be fastened that would act like a sort of lead to keep the child under control.

It would be impossible for the child wearing the harness to take it off, as the clips required a large thumb to operate, so the child couldn't take them off, but if the child kept fiddling with it, then a pair of bracelets could be put on them, and clipped to the harness under the other armpit, so that they would end up looking like they had their arms folded, while of course, not being able to move them at all.

Like most children I'd worn a set of harness up until I was around seven or eight but had then out grown them as by then, they had done their job of training me to behave and do as I was told until Tom came to live with us.

I was nearly thirteen then, and that summer would be sent away to school, but even so I resented having the little ten year old around, even though he was, it has to be said, a lot better behaved than I was.

Anyway, to cut a long story short, I took to running off 3; not running away 3; exactly just disappearing for some time and behaving really like a little brat, which is how my parents threatened to treat me.

Before I knew what was happening they'd not only purchased another harness, in a larger size, and were threatening to put it on me and to treat me, in the way I was behaving, like a little kid which would, include the short trousers that, I'd thought I was now too mature to wear but which, as you can see from the photo, I did wear. but I was wearing it. Of course I didn't like it and would try to take it off, so that, more often than not my arms would be crossed over my chest as well.

My parents though, never carried out their threat, but Tom did.

Joe paused in his reading to look once more at the photo of the young Fred Clark and his brother, and in particular at the strap the younger boy was holding which did, indeed, look like it was attached to the read of the teenager's uniform somehow. Even so, try as he might, he couldn't see any actual sign that Fred was wearing anything under his uniform, like the harness he was describing. Still he had no reason to doubt his friend, as far fetched as the tale seemed and soon he was back reading once more.

It all seemed to happen so quickly and yet, looking back, I'm fairly sure that Tom must have really planned some of it, as the equipment he needed just seemed to appear whenever he needed it. Of course, it wasn't until later, when father was dead, that I got to see the household accounts and saw that, even as a ten year old, Tom had been able to order made to measure item that he would use on me, that summer. Mind you, that's probably the very skill that made the business we later started selling similar items, so successful. At least until Tom died anyway.

Anyway, for reasons that now escape me, Tom convinced me that the only way I could win back my parent's trust, would be to follow the rules they had no real intention of applying themselves, and so, I put away my new long trousers, put on the shorts, and, even the harness.

Oddly, the shorts and harness soon seemed comfortable to me. and there's no doubt that I got to like wearing them. I don't know why that was, but it probably had something to do with the constant presence of it, tight across my chest and shoulders, that reminded me to do as I was told, which is why I ended up wearing it even after my parents had forgiven me for all the trouble I'd caused and I could have gone back to clothes more suited to my age.

Tom and I were left alone quite a bit that summer, so my parents didn't really notice the change in my clothing, or that he and I were starting to make a game out of it, by pretending that what they'd threatened me with had actually happened, and I was being punished by being made to be like a little kid.

So it was that the harness became an almost constant feature around my chest, and what's more, if I was sitting down then Tom would use the clips on the back of it, to fasten me to the chair so I couldn't get up again. At first he could only do this by looping the walking reins around the back of the chair, but, soon he was getting adjustments made to the chairs in my room, so that I could be clipped directly to them.

If I wasn't sitting then I would have to walk just in front of him, being steered by tugs on the reins to make me turn either left or right, depending on where we were going. If I deviated from this then Tom would do what any real parent would have done, and give me a sharp slap around the thigh, until I did it right.

Within a couple of days, I was barely off the reins accept when our parents were around, which was the only time Tom released me but even then it would only be for a few minutes in the drawing room, before we would return to our own rooms where we had always spent most of our time. Tom even arranged for us to have our meals up there, and it soon became clear why.

I didn't know anything about the highchair until one day it was just there in my room. Up until then I would have just been clipped into my normal chair and wouldn't be released until I'd eaten everything on my plate, even if I didn't like it. My legs often showing the red blotches from Tom's smacks where he'd encouraged me to continue eating. Naturally, if I knew my thighs were going to be slapped then I'd attempt to move my legs out of the way. The high chair stopped this.

I was both bigger and heavier than Tom was, so he couldn't pick me up and put me in the highchair, like you would a real baby, but once I was seated on the wooden seat, Tom would clip the harness to the seat back, and then drop the tray down over my lap. This pretty much meant that I stayed where I was, while he fastened my feet in place.

The high chair had built in feet restraints, designed so that each of my shoes fitted into a small hole, before a padded bar was pulled across them to hold the ankles in place. This stopped me from tapping my feet, moving my legs or doing just about anything. Naturally it also stopped me from being able to move my thighs out of the way of Tom's slapping hand.

Bed time was another surprise, for Tom managed to find the old sides to my bed which had been used when I was little to prevent me from falling out of bed. Back then they were held up by a simple catch but Tom got that adjusted to they locked in place, and would eventually find someone to make a lid for it so that, once I was put to bed, there was no way I could get out again until the morning.

It wasn't just furniture that Tom had made but clothes too. I couldn't wear the old school uniform all the time so my little brother order some other clothes for me which, if anything were somewhat more embarrassing had anyone seen me in them than the school stuff.

Everything was short and tight, as that's how Tom ordered them. He even measured me to make sure it would all fit, and fit it did which it should given the way he measured me. It started of normally, with the waist and so on, but then Tom went on to add the dimensions of my thighs, rather than my inside leg, as well as several rather more personal places. [you may want to skip this part Joe] such as how deep the gap between my buttocks was, and the full dimensions of my private parts, both separately and together.

The clothes arrived by the next time I was home from school and Tom couldn't wait to show them to me. The first looked ordinary, just like normal grey school trousers, but in the back there were 'tears' put in to show that I wasn't wearing anything beneath them. Another pair were made of leather, with zips on either side on the front, rather than in the middle which lowered the entire middle section so I could pee, or just to show off my private parts. These also had small bands around the thighs and waist, into which small padlocks could be fitted so I'd be unable to take them off.

All of those I could wear in public, but there were also a couple of pairs that I really couldn't. These, were similar to the leather ones but instead of the front pull down panel, the just had an elasticised hole, through which my privates could be pulled through and where they would stay, out on display at all times. Mind you, the worse thing about them was that with my privates out like that it made it painful to sit down as everything got pulled in directions they didn't want to go. And they weren't even the worse pair.

The final pair were what Tom called my punishment shorts. From the outside they looked like rather normal, if rather on the short side, but on the inside they were anything but, as they had a thick rubber tube fastened into the back seem – I think Tom did this himself as I can't see a tailor doing it, or at least I didn't at the time – anyway, in order to get these on, some cream had to be put on the rubber, before they were pulled up my legs. I'd be wearing the harness with my hands strapped in, so Tom would then guide the tube towards my bottom hole, and push it a little bit in. Then, from the outside he push it all the way in, which always hurt if not for long.

I hated the punishment shorts to begin with and couldn't think where Tom had got the idea for them, but it wasn't long before they had become my favourite pair and I enjoyed wearing them. I just hope that, Joe, you won't think any less of me for hearing that?

Anyway, that's not the end of my story as you can see there are many more pages for you to read but before you do that I want to give you something.

Joe read the instructions that followed very carefully twice, before he got up from the pushchair and went over to the wardrobe. He took the desk chair with him and standing on it was just about above to see over the top of the heavy piece of furniture.

It took a few minutes of fumbling about but eventually the boy found the loose board Fred had written about, and was able to slide it backwards on itself. After all the years the wood was difficult to move, yet move it did, exposing a small hole into which a small metal object had been dropped and which Joe now retrieved.

It was an odd design and like nothing Joe had seen before. Still it was clearly a key, and since the name etched into the metal was the same as one now facing him in the mirror, there was only one thing it could be for. To open the wardrobe.

Chapter Two

Nearly a week had passed since Joe Marshall had got to discover all the secrets his wardrobe contained. It had taken him that long, both in and around his regular chores around the nursing home as well as school, to see all the wonderful things that his old friend had left to him. There was a lot of it too, most of which had been sold by the company Fred and Tom Clark had come to run during the adulthood, the catalogues for which were also there, enabling the fourteen year old to known not only what everything was, but what it did, where it went, and how it worked along with a lot of other tricks of what Joe now knew was called 'self-bondage' and which, unknowingly, he'd been playing on and off for years. Now though he had real equipment to use, and which he couldn't wait to use, even if he would have to until the following Saturday night.

The plan was simple and, in some respects just a continuation of the make believe he'd done previously as, after all, it wasn't the first time he pretended to be an old fashioned schoolboy, looked in his attic room, doing his homework on the hard wooden chair, in front of the blackboard, and being punished for any questions he got wrong, in the traditional way, with a long wooden ruler on his palm or bare thigh, or even one of Fred's old slippers across the seat of his shorts. Eventually he would retire to his bed, gag himself with a piece of cloth, tie his ankles and wrists together with some cord, so that, with the bed sides pulled up, it would be like he locked in. This time though, he would be locked in, or rather strapped in.

The contents of the wardrobe had, included all those things Fred had mentioned in the opening sections of his letter, including a more modern versions of the child harness he had worn in the photo, as well as the special 'punishment' shorts he'd written about, as well as other things, Joe could use to make his previous fantasy more of a reality.

The preparations had started the day before, with Joe placing a plastic tumbler marked 'experiment' into the home's industrial freezer. This wasn't, as the label implied, anything to do with school, as it contained not just coloured water, but also, several small keys which, once the ice had melted, Joe could then use to release himself from the mess he was about to get himself into.

That had been the easier part of the preparations, the other had involved borrowing a step ladder from Dad's workshop without him known, so he could fasten one end of long webbing strap around the joists high up above his head in the roof of the attic. This now trailed down to the floor where it ended in a metal ring that was, in turn fastened with a padlock to a mess of webbing straps that made up the harness Joe was going to be wearing, just as soon as he was dressed for the occasion.

It was late before Joe could put his plan into action as he couldn't risk his parents wanting his help with anything downstairs, even though they very rarely did this, yet it wasn't until after he was sure they, and all the residents had retired to bed, before, under the pretence of going down to the kitchen for a glass of water, he collected the ice tumbler from the freezer and took it back up to the attic with him. This he knew would take at least six hours to melt, which is just how long his self imposed enslavement was going to last.

With the attic trap door once more closed, and locked, Joe set about taking off the very school uniform shorts he'd always previously used for his adventures as this time, he had something else to wear.

Naked, Joe put his uniform away carefully like he always did, catching himself in the mirror as he did so, making him wonder once more just when he was going to have the growth spurt that many of his peers at school were currently going through. Like them he was slender and lean, but unlike most of them, he had no reason to even pretend to shave as there wasn't even a shadow under his nose, or beneath his arms, although he did have some hair now growing around his private parts, which was something. Still this wasn't the time to worry about that, as he wasn't going to be naked down there for long.

Going to the wardrobe, Joe pulled out the black leather shorts that he would be wearing. These had tougher leather bands around both the waist and the leg openings that could be fastened closed with tiny padlocks, and a built in inflatable butt plug.

Taking a pot of Vaseline he'd taken from the home's medical stores Joe carefully coated the end of the butt plug with a thick layer of the lubricant before he stepped into the shorts themselves.

Working the leather shorts up his legs, Joe remembered as per the instructions, to keep his legs slightly parted, and to crouch as much as he could, until the shorts came up to his middle. Then, carefully, he put his hand down the back to guide the end of the butt plug towards the opening of his anus.

Slowly, but steadily Joe pushed the plug against and then through his resisting sphincter muscle, until it started to slip inside him.

At this point Joe removed his hand from inside the shorts, and moved it around to the outside where it continued to push the ever widening plug inside him, until, just as he was thinking that his hole wouldn't get any bigger, the largest dimension of the plug slid inside. From there on in, the rest of the plug went in, more or less, of its own accord, until he was able to pull the shorts right up, into their traditional place with the plug fully embedded inside Joe's bottom.

This wasn't the first time the fourteen year old had pushed anything up inside his rear, so it wasn't an unfamiliar feeling to have his sphincter stretched as it now was, but it was the first time that he'd actually worn clothing at the same time, so that he had to work quickly to do the shorts up, before the constant pressure on his prostate, caused his erection to become too big to be contained.

Tucking his shirt in became a race against time, but Joe managed it and was able to zip up the two zips that ran up his thighs to hold the crotch of the leather shorts closed. This was made of thicker leather than the rest of the shorts, and so would easily contain the erection the teenager was sporting, even though, in a few moments he would no longer be able to touch it. The leather bands around the remaining access points at his waist and legs, being fastened, very tightly closed and padlocked shut.

It felt a bit to Joe like he had to go to the bathroom, but the fullness that was now in his bottom, was very different in a lot of ways, none of which he knew how to explain, other than to know that he liked them 3; a lot.

The shorts looked really good on him too, small and tight, then emphasised his rear even more than the grey school shorts did, while, at the same time, apparently making something of a feature of the swelling at the front, where his engorged boyhood was trying, in vein to escape from the black leather.

Returning to the wardrobe – Joe enjoyed the feeling of walking around the with plug inside himself – he picked up the gag he'd selected for this adventure.

Placing the hard rubber ball into his mouth, he pushed it in, between his teeth, until it slipped behind them. Only then did he pull the two leather straps that came out of either side of his mouth, around behind his head, and buckled it so he couldn't push the ball out again. The buckled secured with yet another of the small padlocks, whose keys were trapped in the coloured water.

Now it was time for the one part of Fred's childhood stories that had interested Joe the most. The harness.

Naturally, given his interest, this wasn't the first time he'd put it on but unlike that time, he wasn't going to get stuck in it. Well he was, but not in a way that meant he wouldn't be able to take it off again once the time was right. This meant, that he'd have to put it on backwards, so that, he'd still be able to reach the release clasp. This was meant to go behind his back, but as he'd found out that first time, if he wore it like that, he couldn't get the darn thing off. (eventually he'd had to ask one of the residents, Mrs. Patrick, to remove it for him which had made her day, if not exactly his. Thankfully, Mrs. Patrick had been one of Fred's closest friends so Joe was sure she wouldn't tell anyone.

Picking up the harness from the floor, Joe carefully tucked all the straps around into their correct places, before slipping it his arms into the correct gaps, and pulling the yellow straps over the shoulders of his grey V neck jumper. The red colour straps could then pass under his arm pits, while their blue partners circled around his chest slightly lower down. All six ends then coming together in the middle of Joe's chest, where their metal end clipped into a catch which, as it now was, could be locked with a small key, making it all the more impossible to take off.

As the final clasp clicked into place Joe to go experience the same safe tightness around him, that Fred had described, and the feeling of safety with it. However in his case, there was no one holding onto the walking rein that came out from the back of the harness. Instead it was fastened up to the ceiling but the results was the same. Try as he might Joe couldn't walk more than eight feet in any direction without being stopped dead in his tracks.

For the next thirty minutes Joe kept himself busy experimenting with just what he could, and couldn't do in the bondage he'd locked himself in to. He could, as he'd planned reach his desk where the ice beaker was slowly starting to melt, but he didn't have enough slack to actually sit in the chair, although with the plug in his bottom that was probably a good thing. Likewise he couldn't reach anything else in the room, including the wardrobe, other than his bed, where he just about had enough slack to be able to lie down, just as long as he kept his upper body pointing towards the centre of the room.

It was exactly as he'd hoped it would be. He was, effectively helplessly trapped in his own attic. If he attempted to move too far in any direction then the harness would just stop him dead in his tracks. There wasn't even the slightest give in it. Once he was at the end of his tether, then that was as far as he went. It was just like he had been kidnapped and locked in the room, unable to cry out due to the ball in his mouth, and yet, his hands were free but with almost everything out of reach there was nothing he could do with them. Not even the thing he most wanted to do which was to masturbate.

The leather shorts hadn't been marketed as a 'punishment' just for the obvious reason of the butt plug that was now jammed up inside Joe's bottom and neither were the locking rings around the thighs and waist, just to prevent the shorts from being removed. As Joe was now discovering, those locks, along with the very thickness of the leather itself, also prevented anyone wearing them from being able to masturbate.

No matter how much, or in what direction Joe attempted to rub the front of his shorts, he just couldn't get enough purchase through the material to get a response from the powerfully hard erection that was trapped inside them. He even attempted to rub himself against the end of his bed, grinding his hips into the frame, but that, likewise provided no release from the mounting sexual tension that would continue to build in his body until the morning when, at long last, the ice would melt and he'd be able to unlock the shorts and obtain the relief he'd denied himself, against his own wishes.

Never had Joe's penis been so hard, and not had the sensations from the butt plug felt as good as this and yet the came wasn't over yet. There was still the matter of the slipper.

Joe had left his recently departed slipper out on his bed, as, it made sense in regards to the story he had worked himself into, that if someone was being punished in the way he was, hardness, gagged, while wearing the 'special' shorts, that they would also be punished in the more traditional way. So it was that he started to spank himself.

The teenager jumped a little when he felt the first blow across the seat of his leather clad rear somewhat surprised that it didn't hurt as much as he'd expected it would. There was a sting of course, but there was more of a pleasant warmth from his skin, and that was nothing to do with what happened whenever the slipper hit across the very centre of his shorts, where the butt plug was. The blows giving the plug a tiny twitch that would go straight through to Joe's groin.

More blows from the slipper followed with Joe swapping hands, to make sure the spread was evenly spaced across his rear. All the same it wasn't long before the teenager was gasping behind the gag in his mouth, as the warmth in his bottom started to feel more like a burning fire.

By the time Joe had finished spanking himself his bottom was sore enough that he was glad he wasn't able to sit down, even so he was slightly surprised to find that there were actual tears on his face, as he'd never been able to make himself cry before from spanking himself, at least not without hitting something that shouldn't be hit, or leaving marks that caused awkward questions to be asked by everyone other than old Fred Clark.

Following he spanking, Joe had nothing else to do but go to bed, laying there, on his side, with a loins and buttocks both throbbing in time to his heartbeat inside the black leather prison of the shorts. His mind drifting into visualisations of what he'd done, even though, from the small flashing red light on the far side of the room, he knew his video camera had filmed everything that had gone on and would continue to do.

Joe slept off and on during the night, but never once was he able to forget the bondage he'd put himself in and the way he had become not only trapped but controlled by the harness and the punishment shorts and what it would be like to have someone doing the things to him that Fred's little step brother had done to him.

And that's where old Mrs. Patrick came to the rescue.

Chapter Three

For once Joe was wearing normal teenager clothes, as he was meeting someone for the first time and wanted to make a good impression on them, and vice a versa as they would need to trust each other, for reason that would become obvious.

Thankfully the initial meeting went off well. Aiden Patrick was meant to be visiting his grandmother, but Mrs. Patrick had thought he'd prefer to spend time with someone nearer to his own age especially as that someone had a shared interest in film making. He was three years younger than Joe, but already slightly more stylish, in 3/4 length trousers, sleeveless shirt, trainers with no socks, a thin bone necklace, and hair that was not only gelled up, but may, or may not have been slightly highlighted. This, of course, was a great contrast to Joe, who even though he was dressed relatively normally, still looked somewhat neater, compared to the other boy, something Mrs. Patrick didn't hesitate to point out. She even mentioned the shorts that Joe sometimes wore, although thankfully, Joe had been able to break into the conversation at that point with what he wanted to do. Or the basic outline of it anyway filling in the rest when they were finally alone.

"What I want you to do," explained the teenager, "is to put a pair of handcuffs on me, and then leave them on for ten minutes or so, while I film my trying to escape."

"Why?" Aiden had asked, not surprisingly.

"It's for a movie I'm making," Joe shrugged as if it didn't matter before adding in what he hoped would clinch the deal, "I can give you a tenner for your help."

Aiden's eyes flicked over to his grandmother, who didn't raise an objection, but then why would she, given that it was her money, Joe was offering to her grandson as a way to get around the plan the boy's parents had to make Aiden work for his money.

"You may as well do it dear," Mrs. Patrick eventually said, "After all it is raining outside, and you have got some time before your parents come to collect you."

"I guess." The pre-teen shrugged his shoulders inside his slightly over large shirt.

The old lady smiled, "That's good, now you two boys run along now."

A few minutes later Joe had lead Aiden out of the Day Room, and up into his attic bedroom where he'd already set up everything he was going to need for the shoot in the main part of the room. This mainly consisting of a large wooden frame that he'd formed from running a couple of lengths of timber down from the a low ceiling joist at the side of the room, to the floor.

"We're not going to use handcuffs, like I said downstairs," he explained to Aiden, "but instead, I'm going to be standing up with my legs apart and my hands spread over my head, with my wrists and ankles locked to this frame by those straps, so I can't move. Plus I'm going to be wearing a blindfold and a gag."

"A gag?" the younger boy asked, with an undisguised twinkle in his eye.

"Yeah it's part of the story I'm filming," Joe only half lied, "about a boy who has been kidnapped and naturally, his kidnappers don't want him shouting for help so they gag him."

"But only for ten minutes?"

"Well, no, in the movie it will appear to be a lot longer, once I've cut the footage up and spread it around a all the other stuff I've filmed which will be like he's flashing back to how he got to be tied up, and stuff like that. Okay?"

"Okay. I guess," Aiden shrugged again, "so what do I do first?"

"Well first I've got to get changed into my costume."

"What costume?"

"You'll see. Hang on there a minute. I won't be a second."

Joe didn't take very long to change at all but then he'd actually been wearing his 'costume' all the time, beneath his jeans, so it was only a minute or so before he stepped back out from the curtain hiding the 'other' part of his attic, wearing nothing but a somewhat brightly coloured Speedo.

"You're wearing THAT?" Aiden gasped at the small suit.

"Sure," Joe moved over to wear he'd set up his camera on its tripod, and started it working. "The character I'm playing was taken on his way back from his junior school swim class, so this is what he was wearing. So, anymore questions?"

"Nope." The shoulders shrugged again.

Joe walks over to the frame and stands beneath it, in the centre. "Right then, in that case, let's get started."

It takes a few seconds for Aiden to react, but when he does it's straight down to business, reaching up to the top left hand corner where, standing on the very tips of his toes, he's able to just about pull the strap down. Then, totally unprompted, with his other hand he takes Joe's left hand and guides it up towards the strap. Although surprised, Joe naturally complies, turning his hand to make it easier to pass into the strap and holding it there while the younger boy tightens the buckle. Only then does he say anything.

"Okay, let me see if I can reach the buckle with my fingers."

Aiden backs off a little bit to watch as Joe moves his hand and wrist or at least attempts to but as it turns out the straps hold him really well and there is no way, his hand could bend back far enough on itself to reach the strap – actually an old belt nailed to the timber – to release himself. At least not without using his other hand which, of course, he wasn't about to be able to do.

"Is that okay?" Aiden asked, when there was no comment forth coming.

"Yeah, that's good."

"It doesn't hurt then?"

"Nope, guess it's okay."

"Right then, can I do the other wrist then?"

"Sure, go for it."

Aiden didn't move. Clearly he had something on his mind. "You know that once I've done that you'll be stuck don't you? So do you want me to do your ankles first or something so you'll be more comfortable."

Joe didn't have to think about this. "No, just do my wrist first and then the rest, like I said."

The younger boy doesn't say anything else just takes hold of the teenager's other wrist and pulls it up towards the waiting strap, which, following the practise he's already had, he's able to fasten closed in just a few seconds.

"See how that is, and I'll be right back."

Before Joe can say anything Aiden has turned tail and trotted back down the stairs into the main part of the home, leaving Joe right where he was.

Naturally the first thing the teenager did was to test his bonds but there was clearly no way he was going to get out until he was released which was, after all, the point he'd had in mind when he'd designed the frame.

The next thing he did was to wonder where Aiden had gone, but he wasn't overly worried about that as he was fairly sure that he'd have to be in the home somewhere as Mrs. Patrick wouldn't allow him to go home, until he'd said goodbye to everyone and thanked them for having him, including Joe himself, so there was no real danger of his being left strapped up in the attic.

Then came the answer as somewhere on the upper floor a toilet was flushed, which was followed by the plumbing running through the attic to make all the odd noises it always did, and a few minutes later Aiden returned to the attic.

"Oh you're still here." The giggled slightly, as he came back over towards the frame, remembering like a good film maker should, not to cross directly in front of the camera. "I had to go downstairs to get something for my Gran but, anyway, where were we?"

There was no need for Joe to answer this last question as already, Aiden was kneeling down by the left hand corner of the frame, preparing the strap fixed there for Joe's ankle which was soon being fastened into place.

"Now the other one." Aiden slid across the floor on his knees, ducking under the camera's views, while simultaneously sliding Joe's right ankle across to the right side of the frame, where it to was soon fastened into place.

"Okay," the youngster stood up, moving to the side, "See if you can free yourself."

Joe struggled a bit in his bonds, rather pleased that Aiden had suggested it as it meant he didn't have to, as he'd always found struggling against whatever bondage he'd been put into as one of the best feelings he'd ever had.

"So how's that feel?" Aiden asked.

"Weird!" came the more than a little honest answer.

"You know what would be good, don't you?"

Joe instantly stopped what he was doing. "No what?"

"Some close ups. If you want I could do some for you, so you could cut them into your movie and make it more interesting. I'll be really careful with your camera, honest!"

It was actually a good idea, so Joe agreed watching as Aiden took the video camera off the tripod, and after a quick instruction on where all the buttons were and what they did, he started moving it around, focusing it on each of the four straps that now held the teenager in turn, plus scanning it across and around his now stretched out body from the front, and then from behind.

"Hey why don't you wiggle your bum so it looks like you're trying to escape."

"What? Why?"

"I'll look good on screen. Go on."

Joe was about to think of some other reason to protest but before he could, Aiden's fingers were in his right armpit tickling him and causing him to giggle uncontrollably, while thrashing around in his bonds.

"That looks great, keep doing it."

The teenager did as he was told, even after the fingers had been removed from his highly sensitive pits.

"Do it faster."

"Now slower."

"Great stuff."

"Oh, I know, hold still now, and just squeeze your bum together and then relax. Go on, do that, it'll look like you'd really trying hard to strain yourself and stuff like that."

Joe complies, unable to think that Aiden probably had a point, but feeling rather silly doing it, especially knowing that the Speedo he was wearing only just covered his bottom in the first place. Still it wasn't like the film he was making was ever going to be shown to anyone else, was it.

Eventually, Aiden comes back to the centre of the attic bedroom, and replaces the camera on the tripod asking casually as he did so, "How's it going so far?"

"Fine, but I don't like getting tickled."

"Yeah, well it wasn't much fun for me either, sticking my fingers in your sweaty pits, with all those tiny little hairs, yuck. Anyway, what do you want me to do next. The blindfold, or the gag?"

With no preference being offered Aiden takes the decision to start with the blindfold, which was just an ordinary one like you get on an aeroplane, with two big black patches that went over the eyes, held in place by an elastic band that went around behind the wearer's head.

"How's that? Can you see anything?"

"Nope!" Joe confirmed moving his head around to see if he could see anything out of any corner of the blindfold which, truthfully he couldn't.

"Okay, I'll do the gag next. Anything you want to say before that?"

"Just don't tickle me."

Aiden giggled. "Well I'll try not to. Open your mouth."

Joe did so and wasn't surprised to find the ball instantly pressing first against his lips and then, a millisecond later, popping inside his mouth. He then sensed Aiden moving around behind him to buckle the strap closed behind his head. The added tension pulling the ball that little bit more before it became fixed.

"Okay, try to say something."

Joe does, but nothing intelligible comes.

"Great. That's going to sound great on the movie, you should do some of that for sure."

The teenager makes some more sounds that don't mean anything to anyone but himself.

"Whatever?" the preteen laughed, "guess you want to do the stuff for the film now so I'll get out of the way for ten minutes, like you said, Okay and then I'll get some close ups for you like I did before."

The time passes slowly for Joe now he's bound up, blind and gagged. For some of the time he has no idea where Aiden is or what he is doing, but at other times he very well aware of the youngster moving around him, no doubt with the camera, getting the close ups he's talked about although it wasn't until later that he got to see just how close some of the close ups actually were.

At one point Aiden asks him to clench his buttocks again which Joe does, as he really didn't want to get tickled anymore, not now he had no control over what was happening, although he does attempt to protest when the back of his Speedo slips slightly upwards, so it's giving him a little bit of a wedgie.

Another period of silence followed that, after which Aiden returned saying that it would be great if Joe looked all hot and sweaty, at which points he starts to spray the trapped teenager with water to get just that effect. It not being until later that Joe realises that the water also made the Speedo cling to him even more, and even become a little bit transparent.

A third period of silence follows during which time there is almost nothing to be heard in the attic itself, until totally without warning the blindfold comes off.

"Time's up." Aiden announced, as he removed the gag from Joe's mouth followed by the other straps.

And so it was. Once Joe was free from the straps he send Aiden back downstairs, while he got dressed again. Of course, he couldn't help but give himself a little sneak peak at the video he'd shot which he when he first became aware of just how little a too small Speedo, once wet, didn't hide a teenager's erection, and just how often Aiden had filmed it, in extreme close up.

That was embarrassing enough, but what he didn't notice then, but certainly did later, was that, when the Speedo had slipped into his crack it had exposed quite a bit of his buttocks on either side, including a few faint marks left by the last time he'd spanked himself. These too, Aiden had made sure to focus on in a none too subtle way.

It was few days later when the parcel arrived that was to make yet another change to Joe's life.

Chapter Four

One of Joe's duties around the care home was to collect the day's post from the box in the front hall, sort it, and the re-deliver it around the home, to the residents or his parents. He didn't get much himself, so was somewhat surprised when there was one with his name on the front. Still, thinking that it was just some junk he'd got signed up for by accident, he didn't open it there and then but put it aside for later which, as it turned out, was a great decision.

Up in the attic, later that day, Joe finally remembered the envelope that had arrived, and opened it.

Inside was a small folded computer printed note, and another envelope. "Hello Joe Marshall," the note said, "I know all your secrets, and if you don't want anyone else to know them then you had better accept the COD parcel that will be delivered to your address, later today, or else copies what is in the other envelope will go to everyone you know, including your school, the residents (and their families) of your care home, and, of course, your parents."

Joe's fingers were shaking slightly as he opened up the second envelope and pulled several sheets of folded computer paper. Slowly he unfolded them and was, at once confronted with a picture of himself wearing a brightly coloured Speedo, both gagged and blindfolded, hanging from a frame in his bedroom.

The second sheet held a similar picture, only now it was from the back, where the Speedo had pulled up to show a faint, but noticeably line across on part of his bared buttock. But it was the third of this trio that was probably the most embarrassing.

It was taken from the front once more, but not the Speedo was so wet that it not only clung to him like a second skin, but didn't hide anything that it was intended to. Even on the slightly rough printing out of a photo onto regular paper, the size and shape of both Joe's nuts was visible, along with the very obvious, and very hard, tubular shape of his erection pushing up across his right hip.

It was nearly four o'clock that night when the delivery van pulled up outside the care home, but Joe was there to meet the driver before he even had the chance to get out of his cab.

"Sign here, kid!" the man said, taking no notice of just how nervous the teenager looked as he scribbled and printed his name. Instead he just asked for the money that was due to him.

Thankfully the sum mentioned wasn't much and Joe was able to meet it easily out of the savings he had – largely from money Fred Clark and the other residents had given him – and so he was able to take possession of the small square box which he took directly up to the attic.

The box looked fairly ordinary, with a sticky label with his name and address and another one with a code used by the delivery firm, but nothing else that gave away what it contained or where it had come from so there was little option but to open it.

Inside was four items. A note similar to the first one, an envelope that no doubt contained more embarrassing photos, and then, most oddly of all, a travel sized can of shaving foam, and a pack of disposable razors.

"Hello Joe," the second noted started out, "In case you haven't guess I'm Aiden Patrick and now you've signed and paid for this box, you and me are going to become partners and make movies together just like we did up in your attic."

The teenager stopped reading just long enough to give a sigh of relief that he wasn't being blackmailed by some sort of psycho but instead a kid younger than himself. That said, as he soon realised, Aiden had clearly gone to some trouble to set this all up, so what else did he have in mind. Joe read on.

"From now on, you are going to do everything I tell you to and together we'll make some great movies, just like you want to and we're going to start tomorrow."

"Tomorrow? How?" asked Joe out loud. Thankfully, the note went on to answer that question.

"I'll pick you up at your place at two pm tomorrow afternoon, so you had better have used the contents of this box by then, as I don't want to be sticking my fingers in any of those sweaty little hairs that you've got under your arms or anywhere else."

The final two words in that sentence were underlined, leaving Joe in no doubt as to just where the younger boy meant and there was more.

"I expect you to be wearing your 'special' school uniform just like you are in the pictures I sent you this time, and, of course, to do everything I tell you, no matter what. If I don't see you waiting outside your place at ten o'clock then I'll make sure all the pictures, including those from the last message, get shown to everyone. See you then."

The note finished with a scribble that Joe could only assume was the other boy's signature, not that he paid all that attention to it as he was already reaching for the other envelope, hoping but now doubting, that they'd just be more of the same as the previous ones, yet wondering, and worried about just what it was going to contain.

As it turned none of the photos contained in the second message, came from the scene Joe had set up in his modern bedroom, but rather they were all from the other side of the partition. Clearly, during the periods when he'd been tied up and hadn't been able to hear what Aiden was up to the younger boy had been exploring around in all of Joe's private places with the digital camera he had clearly gone downstairs for, during his 'toilet' break. They included pictures of his 'special' furniture: the old style desk, the bed with barred sides and the high chair, but that wasn't all.

The final batch of pictures were the ones that shocked Joe most. The first of these was actually a photo of two photos. The originals had been taken, by Fred Clark on Joe's thirteenth birthday, in the garden of the care home, of him dressed up in his neatest short trousered school uniform. In one of the photos Joe stood facing the camera with his hands in the pockets of his shorts, pushing back the black blazer over the shirt and in the other, he was side on to the camera, with just one hand in his pocket, but with the v-neck jumper replacing the blazer.

The next few photos that followed were of a similar vain but hadn't been taken by Aiden, but by Joe himself, but which the younger boy had clearly taken from his room on that eventful day. They also showed Joe in his school uniform, but in his room, doing what would have seemed like normal things had it not been for the way he was dressed, and the furniture he had.

Those weren't so bad, but the printouts that made up the last ones in the stack were a different story all together. These had also been taken by Joe, for 'research' reasons, as they showed him some of the various ways in which he'd tied himself up in the past, and, the clothes he'd worn. The last one even showing him wearing the ultra special leather shorts with the built in butt plug, and the padlocks around the waist and thighs. Of course the butt plug couldn't be seen but the padlocks could, and so could the swelling in the front of the leather caused by Joe's erection – something that wasn't altogether missing from the other pictures either.

Chapter Five

Joe spent the night wondering about his options which consisted of two choice that had the same result: not doing what Aiden Patrick wanted, in which case his secret would be out, or telling something – his dad or even old lady Patrick – what was going on, but in that case his secret would probably still come out. The only other thing he could do was to follow the instructions and hope the younger boy was good for his word, until such time as the threat would pass. Naturally, he choose the last one.

The following morning then, Joe woke from what little sleep he'd managed and went directly into the bathroom. There, just as he'd expected was his dad's electric razor. This he knew how to use from a somewhat optimistic instructions his dad had given him, although those, oddly, hadn't included how to use the razor to shave under your own arms, and between your legs.

The principle turned out to be much the same for shaving a face, as it happened, if a little more uncomfortable, and rather funny looking. Joe having to stand before the bathroom mirror with one arm straight up in the air, as he sprayed a liberal amount of shaving foam into his arm pit, which he then removed with the razor in as neat strokes as he could manage, given the angle, before rinsing off.

It worked, as ten minute later the somewhat sticky short, stubby hairs Aiden had found so objectionably were now gone, leaving the teenager's arm pit as smooth as it hadn't been for over a year.

The next part of the operation, couldn't be done in front of the mirror, as the glass was just too high up, so instead, Joe, now naked, stepped into that bath, and sitting on the side applied the same process to the area between his legs. Naturally this time he was somewhat more careful about his strokes, as there were several items in the way, and those items were ones he would rather not damage if at all possible.

It took another fifteen minutes of rinsing, and then re-shaving, before all of the wispy little hairs were gone from around the base of Joe's penis and testicles. Some of them were clearly so fine that the razor just couldn't pick them up the first time, and those had to be removed without the aid of shaving foam which made Joe even more nervous about what he was doing.

Thankfully the operation passed off without incident, other than, that is, for Mr. Marshall become rather impatient about getting into the bathroom for which Joe could only apologise, when he finally emerged, wrapped in a towel from the shower, he had to act as his cover story.

Back in his own room Joe quickly ditched the towel, beside his chest of drawers from which he removed a bright pair of boy's briefs that he slipped onto his legs and up onto his hips where they just about covered his newly shaved private parts, and nearly all of his buttocks.

The rest of the uniform soon followed in the tried and tested method, shirt, tie, socks, shorts, jumper, socks and shiny shoes, until once more Joe had transformed himself from modern teenager to an old style 'little' boy. The final touch being to ensure his hair stayed flat by applying a fait touch of product to it. Only just enough to keep it from sticking up in the air, and down on his head, although without any real style at all.

By the time Joe was finished dressing, a lock at the clock confirmed he didn't have much to it downstairs and out onto the front step just in time, to see an unfamiliar mini van pull into the drive, and park in one of the spaces a short distance away. The side door opening, and Aiden Patrick emerged, clad from head to foot in various shades of grey camouflage from his combat trousers, T-shirt, and cap. The only thing that wasn't so coloured being the big black boots he had on.

"Good you're here." The younger boy said, trotting over to where Joe was waiting. His voice dropping once he was out of earshot of the van, "Did you do everything I told you?"

Joe nodded, a slight blush creeping into his face.

"Good. You're learning. Do what I saw, and we'll be okay. Do something else and you'll get punished, got it?"

The teenager nodded again.

"Good, now come over and meet my mum."

Joe was shocked: "Your mum!"

"Yeah, what did you think I was driving." Aiden took the sleeve of the grey V-neck, pulling the older boy towards the van, "Agree with everything I say, got it."

There was no time for Joe to answer before he found himself standing beside the driver's window, which was already rolled down so the large women behind the wheel, could look out at him. "You must be little Joey?" she said.

"Answer!" hissed Aiden, followed by "That's not very polite is it Joey." In a more audible voice.

"Yes," the teenager said, adding, as one of his thighs was pinched, "Miss."

"My aren't you a polite little boy," Aiden's mum smiled, looking him up and down, "And so smart too, in your little uniform. How old are you?"

This, naturally, wasn't an easy question for Joe to answer as he had no idea what to say. It just didn't seem right to give his real age, but then, lying didn't seem right either. Thankfully Aiden had his own idea.

"He's eight, aren't you Joey."

Joe shivered as Aiden's mum looked him up and down once more, fairly convinced that the women – like all mum's – could see right through her son's lie but in the end all she said was. "He's tall for eight, isn't he?"

Aiden did his best to make himself appear the taller, as he joked, "Well he's nearly nine."

The humour worked, for even while Joe was blushing, the Patrick's laughed, Aiden's Mum laughing so hard, in the end that she needed to go into the home for a toilet break. Joe, just hoping she wouldn't mention the 'nice little boy' to anyone, or bump into her mother-in-law, although as Aiden opened the side door of the van, he soon had other things to think about.

There in the first seat just inside the door, and in several of the others, was an oversized child seat, fixed on top of the regular seat, complete with an elaborate harness system fitted to it. Now, Joe had seen baby seats before, and even boaster seats for toddlers but this looked even bigger than that. So, he asked. "Why is it so big?"

"My mum runs a day care place for kids, and some of them can be a bit of a handful so she got this in the biggest size they did one, with everything adjustable so it would fit all of them."

"Really," Joe said, picking up one of the straps that was hanging down the side of the seat, and pulling it out to find that it extended much further than he would have thought it would have."

"You know, I bet even you'd fit into this one."

"Really?" repeated Joe, "Do you think?"

"Only one way to find out. Why don't you try it."

Joe glanced over his shoulder towards the home, "Won't your mum mind?"

"No course, not. That's what the seat's for anyway. Go on, get in and see if it fits."

Putting his nice and shiny shoe up onto the van's sill, Joe lifted himself up into the van before spinning around and sitting down into the chair. Instantly he was aware of several things. The first was the feel of the straps behind his shoulders and under his buttocks, and the second being that his feet were no longer on the floor.

"Let's see if the harness fits you, shall we. Lean forward."

Doing as he was told, Joe both leaned forward and reach back with his right arm, which he was able to feed through the shoulder strap on that side but was unable to get it far enough own, or even to sit up straight. "It doesn't fit." He realised, slightly disappointed.

"It just needs adjusting." Aiden explained, showing Joe the fold-over lightener built into each of the separate parts of the straps but even once all of these were adjusted to their full length it was still clear they weren't going to be long enough.

Aiden spotted what was wrong. "Oh wait, I see the shoulder straps aren't at their highest settings. Get out of a moment."

With Joe once more standing on the road, Aiden reached in, and behind the seat, where he released a catch that allowed the central portion of the back rest to slide upwards, taking with it the anchor points for the shoulder harness. The eleven year old, moving it all the way to the highest setting before once more locking it off. "There, try that."

For a second time Joe climbed up into the van and sat, once more in the over sized child's seat. This time though he was able to rather easily reach back with this right arm, thread it through the shoulder strap, and then to pull that strap up onto his shoulder. Then, leaning forward again, he did the same with the left side, and pulled that up onto his shoulder.

"Comfortable?" Aiden asked as Joe just sat there, with his back against the seat, and the twin buckles of the shoulder straps resting now in the middle of his chest, as the seat seemed to mould to his body.

"You'll probably need a hand with the next bit, lift your arms up."

Aiden appeared to know what he was doing, so Joe did as he was asked, lifting his arms as high in the air as the roof of the can would allow. This made it easy for the younger boy to bring around to the front the two right hand chest straps which were pre-fastened to a large blue, pad which, he explained, was to prevent the straps from digging into Joe's body.

This panel, made of firm yet padded material, sat in the middle of Joe's chest, from just below the knot of his tie, down to his lower stomach. The two straps attached to it, circling his torso, at the upper chest, and down at his waist. Both ended in big silver buckles that into which, matching straps on the left could be pressed home. This being what Aiden did next. Pulling those left hand straps out from the seat, and clicking them into place on the central panel.

Up to this point the shoulder straps had been left but now, Aiden pulled each on of those, in turn, though a especially made loop in the chest strap, down to the waist strap where they two were buckled into it.

"Only one more strap to go." Aiden said, as he knelt down on the floor of the van, reached under the front of the seat, between Joe's bare knees, to grab the crotch strap. This he pulled up onto the teenager's lap and clipped into the centre of the waist strap.

With all the straps now fastened, Joe thought he was fully strapped in, even though he was surprised to find that the straps weren't really all that tight. That though was about to change.

Once more Aiden reach down to the front of the seat between Joe's legs and pulled on a strap there. Instantly, all five of the straps tightened as far as they would go, until the were just on the verge of digging into Joe's shoulders and sides, as well as pressing down on his crotch, although the chest plate did prevent it from being overly uncomfortable.

Suddenly, Aiden's hand, still down under the seat, gave a little sharp twist, and there was a loud click."

"What was that?" Joe asked, fearing the seat was broken and he'd get the blame.

Aiden pulled his hand away. "Don't worry, I just locked the seat."

"You did what?"

"I locked it. It stops the buttons on the buckles from working, until the seat is unlocked again, so kids can't just get out on their own. Go on try it?"

Joe struggled for a little bit pushing on the various buttons on the straps only to find, just as he'd been told, that they didn't work. He then tried to reach whatever it was under the seat that Aiden had locked only to find that he couldn't move at all. The shoulder straps, preventing him from leaning forward, or getting higher, while the waist and chest straps, stopped any motion from side to side, while the crotch strap was tight enough to prevent him from slipping downwards or from moving his bottom further forward.

"See, told you, your stuck until I let you out." Aiden said somewhat unnecessarily, as that was now fairly obvious as Joe was unable to move any part of his body other than to flap his arms around, and to kick his legs.

Joe was about to say something, very un child like, when he spotted Aiden's mum returning to the car.

"Right then, are you two boys ready to go."

"Sure mum!" Aiden said, slamming the side door and then walking around to the front passenger door, while his mum got in the driver's side.

The van started, but as the women reached back for her own seat belt she spotted where Joe was sitting, smiled, but didn't say anything. She just nodded her acceptance of the situation, and started the drive back to their house.

The drive didn't take all that long, at least not as long as Joe would have thought given that most of the home's residents didn't have relatives nearby. The Patrick's though were different as they'd lived in the area for generations, so it only took half an hour before they were pulling into the driveway or what had once been old lady Patrick's house.

All this time Joe had little option but to sit very still in his seat, pinned down as he was by the harness he was strapped into which rendered him as stationary as any other part of the vehicle which is probably why the mother and son in the front of the van, totally ignored him until such time as they were once more parked up, and the side door was once more slid open.

"Don't you look cute like that." Aiden's mum cooed over him, "You know all little kids should have seats like that as it's much safer, at least until they are as old as my Aiden, as they're so much better behaved."

"Mum's always saying that." Aiden appeared at her side, turning to her as she added, "You go inside, and I'll take Joey upstairs."

"Are you sure son."

"Course." He shrugged like it was nothing making her smile like only a mother could.

"You're a good boy really, aren't you Aiden."

The eleven year old only just managed to avoid having his head patted, from several years of practice as his mother, turned and headed into the house. The boy waiting until she was gone before he reached, once more beneath the seat, to make it click as he unlocked it.

"Go on then, see if you can undo it now." He offered Joe.

The teenager was already pushing the red buttons but found it to be much stiffer now it could actually do something, and even when he used both his index fingers he couldn't actually get it to move more than a little bit. Certainly not enough to open.

"What a hand with that?" laughed Aiden, waiting until Joe had given up before he opened the harness himself with a simple fluid movement of his wrist.

Once Joe had freed himself from the straps, and was standing out on the road, he was led into the house and up into what he assumed was Aiden's bedroom, where he was told to stand in the middle of the room.

"Right I've got to get a few things, so you stay here and take off your clothes."

Shocked Joe's mouth dropped open but before he could say anything, Aiden had cut him off. "Just do what you are told, and nothing bad will happen, got it, cos I won't warn you again. Understand?"

"Yes!" Joe nodded.

"Good. Make sure you're ready when I get back."

When Aiden left he purposely left the door open, so the first thing Joe did was go over and close it behind him. Then, he started to take off his uniform. First unlacing the shoes, then pulling the socks off. The jumper followed, as did the tie, and then the shirt. These he folded neatly on top of the seat of a near by chair so they wouldn't get creased – he'd learned to take care of his uniform – then his shorts followed.

The teenager was now standing in the middle of a bedroom of a strange house, in nothing but a tiny pair of bright red briefs which he was somewhat reluctant to take off and yet, he did really want to avoid any sort of confrontation, so eventually he pushed them down over his hips and let them fall onto the top of his already bare feet. These were then picked up, and placed on top of the rest of his clothing.

Now naked in the other boy's bedroom, Joe wasn't sure what to do, but as it happened he really didn't have much time to think about it as it was only a couple of minutes from when his briefs were added to the clothing pile, before he heard footsteps approaching and the bedroom door opened.

Instantly, Joe's hands snatched down over his privates, where they stayed even when he saw Aiden come back into the room carrying a small bag, and a big grin.

"Good well done." The youngster said, putting the bag down, "Let me have a look at you. Move your hands so I can see if you did what I told you."

All along Joe knew this had been bound to happen at some point, but all the same he wasn't keen on doing yet he had no choice, so he slowly allowed his hands to drop to his sides exposing his newly-shaven groin.

"Wow, you actually did it." Aiden laughed, "What about your pits? Show them to me."

Joe's arms now raised above his head allowing the younger boy to examine all of the front and sides of his body at once.

"Brilliant!" Aiden said when he was done, "Now lets get started."

"What are you going to do?" Joe asked not unreasonably.

Aiden didn't answer at once, just reached into his bag and pulled out a small digital camera. "Just what you wanted me to do last time. I'm going to tie you up and take pictures."

"But 3;" Joe was about to protest.

"Don't give me that, you clearly like being tied up cos I've seen all the pictures and, anyway, your already getting stiff."

Up until then Joe hadn't been aware that his penis had started to harden again but as soon as the other boy mentioned it, there was no stopping it, and in a split second it was stranding right up against his now hairless loins. Aiden though wasn't paying any attention to it either as he was unpacking the bag he'd bought up into the room with him, and which seemed to contain little more than a lot of rope and cords of varying sizes and shapes. "Put your hands behind your back." He called over his shoulder.

Joe did as he was asked, allowing himself to be tied up naked for the first time by another person and in such a way that, clearly he wasn't going to be able to free them, which gave him one instant and obvious problem when Aiden picked up the camera to take a few more pictures.

"I need to pee." Joe said

Aiden pointed to a door in the corner of the room. "Bathroom's that that way."

"Can you untie my hands?"

"You don't need your hands to pee, just get on with it."

"But couldn't you just," Joe turned his back to offer his bound hands to be undone but what he got was something very different.

SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!

Aiden landed five good hard swots to the bare bottom before Joe had time to take a step away again.

"Just do what you're told." The preteen snapped, trying to sound angry while he smiled at the pictures he was now taking of the red hand marks appearing on the older boy's once pale buttocks.

Sniffing slightly from the stinging in his rear, Joe nonetheless walked towards the en suite, although when he got there he had to wait for Aiden to come over an open the door as he couldn't reach it with his bound hands.

"Stand in front of the toilet," he was told, "But don't do anything."

Aiden returned to the bedroom for the camera which he then used to take several pictures of the naked bound boy, standing in his bathroom, with a nice red bottom pointing out of the door, just beneath his bound wrists.

"Okay, now do what you have to do but if you get any on the floor then I'm going to really spank you."

Thankfully, like most boys, this wasn't the first time Joe had urinated without holding himself, so he knew that by leaning forward, over the bowl as much as he could he would be able to direct the flow into the water beneath although he wasn't too sure if that would work when he had an erection, yet he had no choice but to try it out.

It worked, even though Aiden did his best to put Joe off by continually taking pictures of him,, as fast as his camera would allow, and the memory was full.

"Right shake it off and then come back into the bedroom."

Aiden went first, to give him time to connect his camera to his computer, in time to take some more photos as the boy with his hands bound behind his back came out to stand, once more in the middle of his bed room. Where he made him wait while he set up his camera on his desk so it over looked them, and switched it to a delay setting, so it would continue to take pictures at regular intervals as he picked up the first of the ropes.

"Keep still!" was Joe's only instruction as Aiden started to tie him up, in what he had to admit was a much more professional manner than Joe would ever have imagined the younger boy was capable of.

The eleven year old started by tying Joe's legs, but not at the ankles, instead he worked at the knee caps first, working just above and then just below them, encircling both limbs and then clinching them together.

Once that was complete, Aiden stood up again and wrapped a longer length of cord around Joe's Elbows, pulling them tightly together behind his back until they were only a few inches apart. Then he wrapped a longer piece of cord right around, Joe's arms and chest, pulling the limbs tightly into the sides of his body.

Clearly Aiden had had some practise at what he was doing, as he knew enough to take his time in ensuring all the ropes right tight and the knots were done correctly in such a way as to make it as hard as possible for Joe to reach them in any meaningful way. He even retied a couple of the knots as he wasn't happy with them, and didn't finish until he was happy with everything.

"You know, I should have got you to bring that ball thing, you had with you when I was at your place." Aiden said out of the blue, returning to his duffle bag, "But don't worry I think I've come up with something that will do just as well."

Taking two balloons from the back, Aiden used the blunt end of a pencil to push one inside the other. When that was done he put a small funnel into the end of balloons, and started to poor some of what looked like floor into the balloons.

"Open you mouth." He said when he was done, so he could push the doubled up balloons filled with the white powder into Joe's mouth, so they sat on his tongue.

Some tape was next which was placed not only over Joe's mouth, but over most of his lower jaw and even some of his face. Everywhere except for across the stems of the balloons that continued to stick out of the teenager's mouth. Around this he loosely tied a piece of cord for a reason that was about to become apparent.

"Thirsty work." The only boy who could still talk said, taking a swig from a water canteen that matched his camouflaged clothing perfectly.

However Aiden didn't swallow the water, instead he put his lips onto the end of the balloon, poking from the bottom of Joe's taped up face, and squirted the water into the balloon itself.

Very quickly the balloons expanded inside Joe's mouth until the formed into a very effective gag/ Aiden waiting until Joe's mouth was completely filled with balloon before he tied off the end of the balloons with the sting. This though was only a temporary measure before he could put a knot into the stem itself at which point the string could be removed, and another round of tape, to seal the balloon invisible from the outside.

By this stage, with his arms, and legs tied, and his mouth totally gagged, Joe's erection was in full swing, which naturally didn't go unnoticed and yet Aiden ignored it, and didn't comment on it, as he still had plenty of things to do.

"Sit on the bed!" Joe was told which he did, albeit not without some help from the younger boy. Aiden also having to push him over onto his side, and then pull his legs up onto the mattress as Joe found it impossible to get into the face down position the other boy requested from him, on his own.

It took a few minutes for Joe to be rolled from side to side, enough times in order for him to end up in the dead centre of the bed, where he wasn't going to be able to move for a while, as cords were now attached from the bed frame to the existing ropes binding Joe's body, so he would be unable to roll from side to side.

Finally – at least Joe thought so – the teenager's ankles were tied together, but they weren't left on the mattress but rather pulled back behind his back so they could be tied off to his wrists, leaving him in what he knew was a hogtie position which was also something that Aiden clearly knew about as well.

"that should hold you for a bit." Aiden said, suddenly leaving the room.

Naturally the first thing Joe tried to do when he was alone was move but he quickly found that he was tied up so well that this was impossible, as the only thing he could actually move was his head, and that wasn't exactly any help in his current situation.

He also tried to talk, but all he could make were some low muffled sounds that he wasn't sure anyone other than himself would have been able to hear even if they'd be standing next to him. This was getting to be even more true as the water and flour mixed inside the balloons, taped within his mouth, and started to not only grew hard but also to expand slightly.

One thing was clear. Aiden had done a really good job on him and that he was never going to get loose on his own and if that wasn't bad enough, the position he was now un, put rather a lot of his body weight directly onto his erection.

Still despite the obviously futility of the situation something deep inside Joe commanded him to at least attempt to escape so that 's what he did. Really putting his heart into it. Making his body as move as much as it could, violently jerking, pulling, thrusting, and tugging against all the ropes that held him, in every direction that was open to him.

Then, suddenly, while Joe was doing just this, a feeling arose deep inside the teenager's body that although he had felt before it had been nothing like the one he was now getting. It felt better than anything he'd ever felt before and then some. A pulsating force seemingly working its way from all points of his body towards the centre where, his throbbing erection was being rubbed against Aiden's mattress in ever more frantic motions.

Aiden re-entered the room at this point but Joe didn't notice and not just because he was now facing the other way. All his attention was on swaying back and forth, to work the hot sexy feeling, into the rolling and thrusting of his body weight onto his throbbing private parts.

All of a sudden a strong surge began to work its way into Joe's erection. Wave after wave of the same sensations flooded into his body sending sparks and stars into his eyes and ringing in his ears, while, if he had not been so tightly gagged, a long drawn out moan, or possible a scream, would have filled the room as the teenager raced into the best orgasm he'd ever had in his entire fourteen years of life.

When it was all over, Joe finally became still on the mattress. Still bound, still gagged and, strangest of all, still with an erection that just wouldn't go away. Yet all the same a wonderful feeling of being totally relaxed now came over him, until, fearing that something had gone wrong, Aiden panicked a little and started to release him, nearly an hour before he'd originally intended to do so. But then there was so much more that he could do once they started filming.

Chapter Six

The first movie Aiden had in mind for himself and Joe to make, was simple enough, and on some levels a little clichéd, at least on the surface, although there were parts of the script that Joe had yet to see.

Aiden had wanted to film around his own house, but it soon became clear that it would be a lot easier to do it at the care home, not least of which being that they would not only have more freedom, but wouldn't have to cart all the equipment, Joe had to the other side of town.

The main location was to be Joe's own bedroom, but before they got to that, they had a short preview to make, as well as a few scenes that could be cut into the main action to provide more of a back story. These had been done, in and around the care home itself, and even gave a small part to Mrs. Marshall who got to play Joe's character's mother and for old lady Patrick too.

The first scene showed, Joe dressed in his normal teenager clothes, storming out of the front door shouting something at his mother who, just shook her head and smiled, before saying "I do everything for him and he treats me like that. Oh well, he's my son."

And so the scene was set, with the rather obvious assumption that Joe's character was a brat something which was then confirmed in the next shot of him standing by the gates to the care home, on which a sign had been added saying "Junior School". At this point Aiden himself entered the scene, wearing a soccer kit, and looking forlornly down the road (a shot of a departing bus was added there to imply he'd missed the bus.)

Slowly Joe walked over to him, and said, in a deep and intimidating voice as he could. "Hey kid want to buy some drugs."

Aiden, who was probably the better actor, did his best to make his eyes look wide and innocent as he stared at the small bag of flour that was standing in for the unnamed drugs. "No thank you." He said.

"No, well in that case." Joe peered up and down the streets – shown in cut-ins to be empty – before he demanded all of Aiden's money.

"I do not have any." Came the overly reply.

"What about your pocket money?"

"I don't get that until tomorrow." The youngest replied overly honestly.

"In that case you can give it to me tomorrow."

"But there's no school tomorrow."

"In that case you can bring it around to me house, right, or else."

The scene faded at this point with Joe turning to leave, the camera focusing in on Aiden's face that slowly started to harden.

A musical montage was then used to cover the time period between the two scenes, as Aiden's character went home to talk to the old women he lived with, who gave him advice about how to deal with Joe the bully. Inserts providing more examples of Joe bullying many other smaller boys (all of them played by Aiden in various different clothing), or people complaining about him, and of nothing being done. The only voice heard during this section being that of Mrs. Marshall saying, over and over again, "Boys will be boys" and "My son is a good boy and I won't believe anything different until someone can show me different."

Mrs. Marshall's words continued to loop, as the montage faded into a new scene of Aiden getting dressed in his camouflage clothing, packing unseen items into a backpack, before the shot cut to him standing outside the care home, while a car drives off, before walking up the now empty drive towards Joe's front door.

With the camera mounted on it's tripod, half way down the drive, it showed what happened next although the sound would be dubbed onto it later, as Joe opened the door, asked what Aiden wanted, and then the younger boy asking if he could come inside as he needed to pee. The scene closing as the smaller boy entered the house, but not before he too had given a good look around, and smiled in a close up that was also added later.

The shot changed now to what was to be the main scene of the film, which opened with Joe sitting on the end of his bed, in the middle of his room that looked strangely dated, but for all the modern consumer goods that had been placed in the shot to confirm the teenager was totally spoilt. The room was also a total mess as was the teenager himself, dressed in baggy jeans, black trainers, white socks, and a rock band t-shirt. His hair heavily gelled, and there was even what appeared to be a gold stud in one of his ears (it was fake!)

"So, where's my money then?" Joe demanded the second Aiden came into the room from what was assumed to be the en-suite bathroom but was actually a cupboard.

"I did not bring any."

The teenager was stunned, "What? Why not?"

"Because it is not yours." Aiden spoke slowly to make his point, "I have to work for my pocket money by doing chores and keeping my room tidy."

The camera followed Aiden as he looked around the messy room.

"Why you cheeky little ba 3;.!"

"There is no need to swear." Aiden's voice over, made sure the language wouldn't offend anyone, not that this would be the thing they'd remember about the movie but still. "And it's not nice to call people names either. After all, you would not like being called a spoilt, brat or a mummy's boy, would you."

The rage boiled over on the teenager's face thanks to some camera trickery with the red filter, and he jumped up from the bed, with an arm outstretched as if to strike the younger boy, only Aiden was quicker.

As the raised fist came towards him, a speeded up camera, showed Aiden's lightening fast reflexes as he grabbed hold of Joe's wrist, before using the teenager's own momentum, to unbalance him so that he fell back onto the bed.

Instantly Joe's other hand came up to free his wrists but, in a flash of silver metal, Aiden nimbly applied a set of handcuffs onto both the teenager's wrists, trapping them in front of him. But not for long as the handcuffs were attached to a length of chain that, Aiden now locked around the bars at the head of Joe's bed. The sound of the padlock snapping shut, nicely amplified on the movie soundtrack so it could be clearly heard above the noise of the two boys scuffling on the bed.

His hands now trapped and chained above his head Joe continued to protest in the only way he could be shouting threatening words – that would be edited to make it sound like swearing was being removed – and by kicking his legs.

It was a situation that clearly Aiden had come prepared for as from one of the many pockets that marked his camouflage trousers he took a second set of handcuffs with a long chain that he first snapped around the teenager's ankles before fixing the chain to some point, unseen beneath the bed.

The camera panned slowly up the struggling youth's body, taking special interest in the way his t shirt had worked it's way up to show the lower part of his now taunt belly, and showing that his baggy jeans had slipped down far enough to show the top of his boxer shorts. This appeared to force Joe to change his plans and his body became still.

"Wait. Hang on." He pleaded and for a moment it looked Aiden wood do but then his hands just snatched down to Joe's knees and with a sharp tug pulled the teenager's jeans down as far as they would go.

The boxer shorts Joe had on had a slight checker pattern and were somewhat too small, and tight for him (which wasn't any surprise as they were actually Aiden's), but that hadn't prevented them from riding up his legs during the struggle revealing his pale, smooth, boyish thighs, that had instantly made him seem younger than he had done only a few minutes earlier. It also made him seem vulnerable, with is probably why Aiden did what he did next, reaching down once more to give Joe's thigh a sharp pinch.

Instantly, Joe appeared to get over the shock of loosing his jeans, as he attempted to barter for his release even as his legs were being pinched. "Ow, hey, Wait! How about 3; ouch! 3; why don't you 3; ouch! 3; let me go and 3; Ow! 3; we'll just forget 3; Ouch! 3; this ever happened."

At first the pleading seemed to work, as the pinching stopped, and Aiden turned his attention to the teenager's head, only what he said, clearly wasn't what Joe's character had been expecting to hear.

"What do you think your mum would think if she knew what you were doing?"

Joe looked suitably confused. "What?"

"What would you mum do if she knew what you'd been up to, bullying little kids and so on?"

A small paused followed in the scene as flashbacks of both what Joe had done, and his mother's reaction were played while camera went close in on Joe's face as he shrugged and said, "No much! I guess. Ground me. Something like that."

"Anything else?" asked Aiden, his head shaking slightly. An action that was soon matched by Joe.

"No, not really."

"You see, that's the problem." Aiden now said directly into the camera, "You clearly have a discipline problem, and being grounded just isn't enough. What you need is some good old fashioned spanking."

Once more the camera tick was used to make Joe's face appear red. "What? You can't do that?"

"Yes, yes I can. You've been spoilt and have been running amok, but now it is the time for your reckoning."

Reaching down as he spoke, Aiden released the chain holding Joe's ankles down to the mattress. Naturally as soon as Joe was aware of this he snatched his legs up as high as he could, to prevent them being tied down anymore. That though, was what Aiden wanted, as he went around the side of the bed, still holding the chain connected to the ankle cuffs, and locked it off to the same bar in the head board where Joe's handcuffs were chained too.

This new position took some getting used to for the teenager not least of which because his jeans, which were still around his ankles, were now hanging down over his face, blocking his view and making it impossible for him to see what Aiden did next which was to grabbed hold of the waist band of his boxer shorts and tugged them to his knees.

All of a sudden Joe now found himself not only with his legs high in the air, but with his naked bottom exposed to the camera filming the scene from the end of the bed. Not only that but the camera could also see his scrotum, and even the occasional glimpse of his anus as his legs were both bent and spread apart in their current position. His penis though wasn't overly visible, although it would become so, as Aiden reposition the camera to ensure that it was not only seen, but would appear to be slightly smaller than it actually was.

"You know," Aiden's voice over said as the camera focused in on the teenager's private, "You look no bigger than a toddler so let's punish you like one."

The camera cut away to a small hand coming out of a camouflage sleeve, raising up into the air, before cutting to a close up of the same hand landing swiftly and sharply on Joe's naked and helpless bottom.

The teenager yelped and even flinched slightly as he felt the sting of the first spank he had, apparently ever received. His bottom continuing to jiggle even after the hand had been removed to show the growing red mark of where it had landed. Before another came down again.

A short montage then played in as the spanks started to reign down on the trapped bottom, each accompanied by a resounding sound of skin on skin. The teenager growing ever more fidgety, as his bottom was slowly covered in a fairly even colour, and yet Joe remained quiet except for the occasional grunt or grasps. His eyes shown to be staring directly at the ceiling, until that is Aiden started to ask him questions.

"Why am I spanking you?" the preteen asked, in a pleasant but no-nonsense voice.

Joe remained silent, a close up on his face showing that his lower lip was being chewed as he attempted to prevent himself from crying. That though was about to change.

It was a diversion from the storyline the two boys had worked out between them – well Aiden had done most of it although Joe had offered advise and even provided the chains, on how he should be tied up – so it was real surprise on Joe's face when Aiden's free hand went between his legs and took a firm hold on his testicles.

"Hey 3;" he complained, although the rest of his words were removed from the soundtrack.

"That got your attention didn't it." Aiden's voice said, "Now.. why 3; are 3; you 3; getting 3; spanked?" On each of the words in his final sentence Aiden made sure to bring his hand down good and hard on the already sore buttocks which got the reply he wanted.

"Because I 3; I 3; ripped you off."

"And!"

"And 3;? And what?" Joe's voice quivered but that didn't prevent him from being spanked again.

SMACK!

"And because you're a naughty little boy who needs to be spanked. Say it."

SMACK!

"Because 3;." Joe started to repeat but clearly not fast enough.

SMACK!

"Ouch, please don't 3;"

SMACK!

"SAY IT!" Aiden demanded with yet another hefty spank.

SMACK!

"Because I'm a bad little boy who needs to be spanked."

The words came out all in one rush, and would need to be re-dubbed later, but the reaction caught on camera as Joe's face started to crumble couldn't have been any better. His face appearing to break open as first tears appeared in his eyes, and then cries started to come from his mouth that quickly turned into sobs.

Releasing the teenager's testicles, Aiden however kept on spanking, until he had totally turned what had appeared to be a snot-nosed teenager at the start of the film into a naughty helpless little kid, being well and truly spanked.

When the spanking was all done and finished Aiden stood back to let the camera have a good look at the now bright red buttocks – only slightly aided by the same camera effect that had made Joe appear to blush earlier – as they were spread in front of it but the scene wasn't over yet.

Aiden appear carrying some more items from his backpack that were shown, in close up to be a can of shaving foam and a razor."

"Time to make you look like the little kid you behave like." The preteen said, squirting a fair amount of the white foam three separate times which he then applied to each of Joe's upraised armpits and then over his entire private area.

At the touch of the cold foam Joe started to squirm once more but the sight of the razor soon stopped that., as did the warning to lie still, unless he wanted to be cut."

Slowly and almost leisurely, the camera – now held in Aiden's other hand – watched as the razor moved up and down each armpit in turn before being trained around Joe's lower belly. Carefully it moved down and around the teenager's private parts, to remove any trace of the hair that had once grown there, even though it had been actually little more than a sparse silk-like bush that had barely even registered on the camera. Now though it was gone.

A cloth was used to remove any remaining foam and then Joe found himself, as hairless as he had not been for several year but which he would remain so for some time to come.

"There you go, nice and smooth!" came the voice over as Aiden was shown clearly up all the things he'd bought with him. However before he left the room, in what was to be the final scene of the movie, he left a small note on the mattress just in front of Joe's still bright red buttocks.

"Your son has been behaving like a spoilt little kid." It said in big bold letters that would show up well on screen, "So we have punished him accordingly, and we suggest that you continue to do this and to treat him as he has been behaving, perhaps keep in short trousers, like they did in the old days, until he can learn to behave like a 'big' boy."

From there the scene faded to black, and the movie was over, only for Joe it now wasn't. The first time Aiden let him see the finished product the teenager was told that, if Joe didn't tell him everything, then everyone would see this, and think it was real.

Chapter Seven

"Right, so here is what we are going to do." Aiden explained making the final checks to the camera, "We're going to make a sort of interview tape, and you're going to explain everything that you get up, to."

Joe shifted slightly uncomfortable on the chair where he was sat directly in front of the camera. "but 3;"

"You agreed to do this so that you don't get misunderstood, remember." Aiden didn't wait for an answer just finished what he was doing and then got behind the camera. "Now remember, you should do most of the talking but I'll ask questions when I need to, got it."

Joe nodded.

"Right then. Let's get going. What's your name?"

"Joseph Marshall." Joe answered, just as he did the next few questions about his age, address, phone number, and where he went to school.

"So Joseph," Aiden asked in his best interviewer voice, "What is your secret, that you want to talk about with us today."

"I have a secret life." Joe said, slowly.

"Which is?"

"I like to pretend that I'm a little boy."

"How young?"

It was one of the questions they had rehearsed, so when Joe answered he lowered the age by a few years for 'dramatic effect': "About eight or nine years old."

"And how do you do this?"

"By dressing up mostly."

"Does this include the clothes you are wearing right now?" Aiden spoke slowly so he could pull back the camera's focus to get the full image of what Joe was wearing.

"Yes."

"Okay then, describe what you are wearing."

"It's a junior school uniform from the old days."

"Describe it."

"I'm wearing a grey V-necked sweater, underneath which I have a white shirt that is button all the way to the top, so I can have my tie neatly done up in a nice knot. The tie is a Junior school tie, as the stripes are horizontal and not diagonal. My shoes are black, and polished until they shine. I have long grey socks that have a rim around the turnovers that match the colours on my tie. And, of course, I'm wearing shorts instead of long trousers like a big boy would, which leave my legs bare from just below my knee up to almost the top of my thighs."

"Okay, that's good. Now perhaps you can tell us how you came about to be wearing such a costume."

This part of the interview had also been rehearsed, as Aiden had stated the truth of Joe getting his costume as a joke from an old man, a little too 'dull' so together they had worked up the tale Joe was about to tell.

"When I was in junior school I always hated wearing shorts, because they made me feel like a little kid and for a long time I refused to wear them, but then, strangely, once I'd talked my mum into only buying me long trousers I sort of missed them."

"So what changed then?"

"Well, a couple of years ago, I started to think about them again, and wondered what it would be like if I was still made to wear them for school and around the home, like boys in the old days did. In fact there was something about this at school one day, that got me think about that again."

"So what did you do?"

"I bought some." Joe lied.

"They make shorts for fourteen year old boys."

"No, not really, but I'm a little small for my age, so I can wear clothes made for younger boys, so that's what I did. I took the bus to the next town over, so I wouldn't see anyone I knew, and went into a school outfitter's there and bought the largest pair I could find which although marked up for an eleven year old, fitted me perfectly."

"So eleven year olds wear shorts like you have on then?"

"No, I don't think they do, as these were the only pair in the shop and look liked they'd been there for ages."

"Okay, then so tell me what happened when you got home with your new shorts then."

"Well, I'd been very nervous at the check out with them, but couldn't wait to try them on – not having had the nerve to do so, at the shop. Anyway, when I finally got home I put them on straight away."

"What did that feel like?"

"It felt great. Better than great, in fact. Just seeing my bare knees poking out beneath the grey material felt tremendous."

"So what did you do?"

"Well the shorts looked good on their own, but I wanted to see what they looked like really so put on my best shirt, and a tie I got from dad, followed by the longest pair of socks I could find so that I could make what I had into as near a real 'uniform' as I could."

"You wore it then?"

"Yes, at every chance I got, whenever I was alone in the house and then, out in the back garden to start with, until I dared myself to nip around to the front."

"What did you do while you were wearing your shorts?"

"Well I'd change into them when I got home from school, and do my homework in them, and anything else I had to do."

"So you didn't wear them outside then?"

"Sometimes I did, and not just in the garden either. The next time I went back to the school outfitters to get the tie, socks and V-neck jumper I wore my shorts. Of course, I was wearing long trousers when I left home, but I took those off as soon as I got off the bus in the other town, and spent the day walking around in my shorts."

"So your parents don't know you like to dress up then?"

"Oh they do as mum caught me wearing them once."

"What did she say?"

"Not much. Just said something about how much they suited me, and left it at that. Then, the next day, when I was back in longs, she suggested I put my shorts on as I looked that much smarter in them, so I did."

"Okay, so you wear your school uniform at home. What other clothes do you have?"

"Oh I've got quite a bit although my parents don't know about all of it, but I do like to keep the uniform for school days. At the weekends I have a lot of what I like to call play clothes which are different types of T-shirts and shorts that small boys used to wear in the old days. Oh, and if I'm playing some sort of sport of game then I put on my PE kit."

"Describe that for us."

"Well it's a pair of black plimsolls, a white vest with a green band across the chest, and a pair of white nylon shorts, which don't have a fly and like all my other shorts are really shorts."

"With all these short shorts don't your boxers show?"

"They would do, if I wore them."

"So what do you wear instead?"

"Briefs or what used to be called slips as they don't have a fly either so they're a bit like small swimming trunks I guess, you could say."

"Do you have a pair of swimming trunks then?"

"Yes, I do. They're white with just a hint of colour going up over the hips here." Joe used his thumb and forefingers to draw where the small band of elastic would go around his waist."

"Those sound rather small."

"They are really, but, thankfully they cover everything they have to do I don't get into trouble."

"Do you get into trouble?"

"Not really. No!" Joe sighed theatrically, before adding the scripted part, "At least not since I started wearing shorts."

"So, you think the shorts stop you getting into trouble?"

"Yes, I think they do. After all that's what they used to think in the old days too."

"What do you mean?"

"It was part of the school think I mentioned earlier, where I got the idea of wearing shorts from, as we were told that in the old days, if a teenage boy was thought to be behaving in a particularly juvenile way, then he would be 'put back' a few years."

"'Put Back'? What does that mean?"

"He'd be put back a few years in school, so instead of being with his class mates in, say the fourth year seniors, he'd be made to take lessons in the junior school and, of course, he'd have to dress, and be expected to behave, like the younger boys too."

"Including wearing shorts?"

"Exactly, and, he'd get punished like them too."

"Weren't all boys punished the same way in the old days then?"

"No, they weren't. The big boys would be punished one way, and the younger ones another. For example, the older boys would get detention, or lines, something like that, but the younger ones would be spanked."

"So, only younger boys get spanked, is that right? So, if you were dressing like a younger boy, does that mean you thought about being spanked too?"

"Yes, yes I did, although I think I'd thought about it before then too but I can't be sure but I do remember having what I thought were strange feelings whenever I came across anything to do with spanking, like something in a book, or on TV, something like that."

"Your parents didn't spank you then?"

"No they never have."

"So you've never been spanked then?"

"Oh I have."

"How?"

"I did it myself."

"How?"

"Well, once I started wearing my shorts I started to think about spanking more, until in the end, I realised the only way I was going to find out what it was like would be to do it myself as it wasn't like I was going to be able to ask someone else to spank me, was it?"

Aiden chuckled, "I guess now. So what did you do?"

"After thinking about it a lot, I finally got up the nerve to try spanking myself by laying across the seat of my chair – this chair I'm sitting in, in fact – and slapping my bum with one of my slippers."

"This worked did it?"

"Sort off. It was reasonably effective, I guess, although I couldn't really hit myself all that hard, so couldn't really let myself have it like it would have been from someone else. Still, all the same, it did surprise me how warm my bum felt afterwards, and just how red my bottom had become."

"Is that the only time you did it then?"

"Oh no, I did it quite a bit after that, and even stuffed some newspapers into an old pair of long trousers, so that, if I put them on the chair first, then I would have a lap to be bent over, as if I was getting a real spanking. And then there was the taws."

"the what?"

"It's something that was used on the younger boys when they were only slightly naughty, and is basically a short leather strap that would be used either on the palm of his hands or on his thighs before he was sent to stand in the corner to 'think about what he'd done'."

"You used that on yourself too then, did you?"

"Yes."

"Can you show us?"

"Certainly."

Joe bent down and picked up the small leather strap from where it had been left for this point, just under the chair. "The boy would be told to stand up and put one hand on top of the other, but, of course I can't do that as I needed one hand to hold the strap, so I just held out one hand and whacked it with the other."

"Show us."

Joe raised the strap up in his left hand and bought it down sharply on the palm of his right hand with a loud THWACK! Aiden focusing in with the camera, just in time to see the red tramlines quickly appearing, running down the palm towards the fingertips, before moving up to Joe's face where the teenager did his best to show the sudden numbness followed by pain, and the slow transition to intense stinging.

"Another one." Aiden demanded, puling back out again, to catch the entire process for a second time.

THWACK!

Tears glistened in the corners of Joe's eyes, as the leather sliced into his palm for a second time. His hand instinctively snatched away.

"Okay, that looks quite effective as a punishment. Hold you hand up so the camera can see."

Joe did as he was told, whilst wiping the tears from his eyes with his other hand.

"However there's one thing I don't understand. You said that the shorts made you behave like a good boy, so why was there any need for you to be punished then?"

"I guess there wasn't really." Joe said getting back onto the script, "Which is why I used to make up other ways that I would get punished."

"You'd imagine that you'd get punished even when you weren't naughty?"

"Yes, well, no not really, as these weren't punishments."

"Hang on, if they weren't punishments then what where they?"

"Well some would be punishments of sorts, just from other boys, not the teachers, and others would be initiations, or something like that."

"Why would the other boys punish you, surely you were one of them?"

"Yes, I would be, but that meant that, if I was a nine or ten year old, then the older boys would be allowed to punish me."

"The older boys. How much older?"

"Not much, as the junior school would only have boys up to age eleven or so."

"So you'd image you'd be punished by eleven year olds. Boys, who were really several years younger than you are."

"Exactly. And they'd be in charge of the 'initiations' too."

"And what did they involve, the initiations."

"Sometimes a spanking, often being stripped naked, and a lot of the time, getting locked up somewhere or tied up."

"So, let me guess, you tied yourself up then?"

"Indeed?"

"How did that all start then? Also from that talk you had at school?"

"Oh no, this one went back further than that. I remember when I was little and dad rearranged his garage one time, so that an old wooden table ended up getting semi buried, beneath a load of rubbish and this became my little hide out as only I was small enough to crawl inside there, and once I was inside I couldn't be seen from the outside, so I could do what I wanted in there."

"Which was?"

"I pretended it was a dungeon."

"A dungeon?"

"Yes. There was a strip of what I later found out was lead that was about a foot long, and a couple of inches wide. This was thick enough to be quite heavy and yet, thin enough so that, with some effort, I could bend it. So what I did was curl the ends over to make them into a pair of handcuffs. I had to close them with my knees, and I could get free just by pulling hard enough with my wrists, but that was more than enough. At least to start with."

"What happened after that then?"

"Well by the time I started wearing shorts and spanking myself I had got together quite a few things that I could use. The length of led had long since broken so I'd replaced it with a pair of strap hinges bent in a vice, that could be bolted together to make shackles. Then there were leather belts that I could put around my wrists and tied to the bedposts so I could pretend I was strapped to my bed at night. Of course those had to be made so I could get free instantly, but the leg irons I made were much stronger than that."

"Show us!"

"Unfortunately, I can't as I lost them when we moved here."

"Okay, in that case tell us about them."

"They were made from chains I found, which I cut to size so that I could loop them around my wrists or ankles, and then hook them to regular chains they would make great manacles and leg irons."

"They don't look like they'd be too easy to get out of."

"Oh it's easy with tools, the trick was to make sure I didn't have easy access to the tools, and of course, that there was no one else around."

"So what did you do?"

"Well, there was this one night when my parents stayed over and I was left here on my own for the first time saying that I had some studying to do. Of course, I was such a good little boy in my shorts that they believe me, so I had the house all to myself all night which is what I wanted, of course."

"So what happened?"

"I waited until late at night, even doing some studying so I wouldn't have to lie, and I got set to be chained up in my room, as I was now too big to fit under the table in the garage. Just before the sun was due to set, I put on the leg irons and the manacles, carefully squeezing the looks together with some large pliers that wouldn't be any good to open them again. For that I'd need a screw driver but that was on the other side of the room and soon I wouldn't be able to reach that."

"What stopped you from just going to get it?"

"Well the chains were heavy so that made walking tricky but, yes I could have just walked over there which is why I had a combination padlock on a long chain which I attached to a collar around my neck, which was closed of with one of the metal links from the chain, that I couldn't open with my bare hands. The other end of the chain was locked – with the combination padlock – to the end of my bed."

"So the chain was too short to let you reach the screwdriver then?"

"Exactly. Once that padlock was clicked shut, I was stuck on or near my bed, until it became light enough so that I could read the combination enough to let myself go. In the meantime I was chained hand and foot and totally stuck right where I was."

"You stayed like that until morning?"

"Yes, only when the sun came up could I combination lock released, so that I could get the screwdriver and pry free the shackles from my hands and wrists."

"And you did this a lot did you?"

"As often as I could yes, at least until we moved here and then I didn't have to anymore."

"Because you lost them, right?"

"Well partly that, but also cos there was better stuff already here."

"Like what?"

"My harness."

"What's that then?" Aiden asked, for real as he hadn't heard about this before this moment.

"I'll show you."

A few seconds later Joe was holding the mess of adjustable straps and explaining what it was for: "Back in the old days, to stop kids from wondering off they'd be made to wear a harness like this."

"Only little kids, toddlers though?"

"Well yes, normally, but if a boy was being 'put back' then this sort of thing would just add to his humiliation, especially as once this was put on then he couldn't take it off."

"How? I mean how does it work?"

"Well," Joe spent a second sorting out the harness into its component parts, "This is the chest plate that goes on the boy's chest, and then these straps go around his sides, one lot just under his arms, and the other around his waist, and they along with the shoulder straps, all clip into this bit which, once it is on, is impossible for the wearer to reach to release it."

"Okay, I see that, but how does it attaché to anything."

"You see these D shaped rings, once the harness is on, these are at the sides, under the arms, and the shoulders and these could be clips to things, including of course, a set of reins so that someone could walk the boy wearing them, like he was a dog or a horse or something like that."

"Wouldn't the kid fight back."

"They'd try, I guess, but, if they did then they'd have a pair of bracelets put on their wrists,,,"

Aiden interrupted, "Locked on."

"No they wouldn't need to be, they'd just be buckled on, as once they were on they'd be clipped to a D-ring on the main harness under the boy's other arm, so that it would look like he was folding his arms only, of course, he couldn't unfold them."

"Wow," Aiden said, "And you wear these."

"Well sort of, I do, although I have to wear them backwards, or else I wouldn't be able to take them off again."

"Show me. I mean us."

Joe didn't need to be told twice and slipped the harness on, as if he was pulling on a familiar coat which, of course is pretty much how he had started to think of them, even smiling as he clipped them shut on his chest."

"Wow, they really make you look young."

The smile widened, "Yeah I know!"

"I mean you look like a toddler or something. Hey, you like looking like a little kid right?"

"Yeah!"

"So have you, you know, ever worn nappies."

The smile vanished. "No. Never."

"Oh right. So what do you do?"

"Well, once I'm in the harness I can clip myself to my chair like this." Joe sat down and did as he said, using two short straps to fasten the harness though the back rungs of the chair, which Aiden made him do a couple of time to make sure the camera picked it up.

"What else?"

"I can clip myself to most things one way or the other or, I can do something similar to what I used to do with the shackles and lock the harness to a long strap fastened around a roof beam with the combination lock at night, so I'd be stuck in the harness all night."

There followed a short silence for the first time since the taping had started, despite their joint idea that they should keep the interview moving. Yet Aiden clearly had something else on his mind, so it was up to Joe for once to prompt the younger boy to get things moving once more.

"Is there anything else you want to know?" he asked.

"Er 3; what? No I don't think there is. You've told us that you like dressing up like a little boy in short trousers, that you sometimes spank yourself and tie yourself up. Is there anything else."

Joe shook his head. "No, I don't think so."

Chapter Eight

Joe woke up slowly, feeling strangely tired, even though he hadn't gone to bed all that late despite having a sleepover for the first time ever in the care home. He hadn't been all that keen when Mrs. Patrick had first suggested that her grandson could sleepover one night while his parents went out but as things had turned out, it hadn't been all that bad at all.

For the first part of the evening Joe had been expecting Aiden to get up to some trick or other, and then to want to film it, but he hadn't. Instead the younger boy had behaved, as if everything that had happened between them, hadn't in fact, happened. It had taken Joe some time to get used to this, and then only while they had been downstairs, but it had continued once they'd moved into Joe's bedroom too. Perhaps, the teenager, had thought, Aiden was as lonely as Mrs. Patrick said he was, and he just wanted another boy to spend time with him.

The evening, had therefore passed just like many an night had when boys got together. They talked, they eat, they watched TV, they played games and eventually, they went to bed with Aiden taking the main bed, and Joe camping down on his 'special' bed. They didn't even stay up late, with Joe the first to start yawning, some time before even his parents had shut down the care home for the night.

So it was that Joe woke up with his head a little fuzzy, having not slept as well as his tiredness would have thought he would have. A strange dream about sleeping in a boat during a storm, had left him sensing that he'd been tossing from side to side all night, and he even had the slight motion sickness as well as a tightness in and around his chest, just like all that had happened, but of course nothing of the short had happened. Or had it.

Like most teenagers Joe woke up slowly, stretching his body out from the bottom up. His feet and legs, scissoring from side to side, as they came back to life, although oddly, his arms, didn't. They just remained crossed over his chest, as if he was hugging himself. And they wouldn't move. It was almost as if his hands had become stuck in his arm pits.

His eyes still sleep filled, Joe pulled his legs up, and made to swing himself around onto the side of the bed, as that would be sure to dislodge his arms, but, all he succeeded in doing was to arch his back slightly. His arms didn't move, and nor for that matter did the upper part of his body. At all.

At this stage Joe's mind finally clicked into gear, making one observation and drawing one conclusion. The latter being that if he couldn't move then there was probably a reason, and that reason being that he was tied up. The observation then being that, as a direct result from his thinking he was tied up, he got an erection. Or rather, the erection he'd already had – and always had when he woke up – was getting harder from the thought of his being tied.

It took a further five minutes for Joe's eyes to blink themselves clear of the gunk of sleep, and for him to spot the answer to his problems was the childish harness that was fastened around his upper body.

Raising his head, he could see the chest plate on the front of his body, from which two sets of webbing ran around under his arms, and up over his shoulders, and which he knew would fasten to a clasp in the centre of his back. That much he'd seen before, of course, but now there were added additions, in a couple of crotch straps that ran down from the bottom of the chest plate, went around either side of his genitals, and then up between his buttocks to join the other straps at the rear clasp. He couldn't actually see his wrists but he knew there was webbing buckled around each one and these had been clasped to the D ring on the harness under his arms, which his way he couldn't unfold his arms from his chest. That, of course, meant he couldn't reach any of the clasps to free himself from the harness, or free the harness itself from the extra bands of webbing that ran around his mattress and which were holding him down flat on his bed.

After a brief moment of panic, Joe soon put two and two together and came up with just who had done this to him: "Aiden!" he called into the other side of the attic room.

"Yes." Came the instant cheery reply, as the younger boy stepped out, not from the doorway but from behind the video camera he'd been pointing at the struggling teenager.

"What's going on?" the teenager asked, remarkably calmly.

"Giving you a taste of the sort of stuff you like." Aiden came to the side of the bed, wearing just as he had been the night before, a set of blue and white pyjamas, only now he'd taken the jacket off, "A taste of your own medicine, if you like."

"But 3; I 3;.." Joe couldn't think of a way to end the sentence without sounding odd, so changed tact, "Just get this off me."

Aiden shook his head, "I've not finished yet. Not even started really." Reaching down, the eleven year old grasped the teenager's left ankle, and lifted in to the air.

"Hey!" Joe protested, attempting to kick the hand free with his other hand, but was unable to get his free leg into the correct angle to get it anywhere near the other one as that was pulled back over his already trapped torso

Aiden produced another short webbing strap, that had been tucked into the waistband of his pyjamas, and slipped it over Joe's left foot and down to his ankle. There he tightened it, snugly around the bare flesh, before tugging the now trailing end down towards Joe's shoulder where he clipped it onto a D ring on the main harness. He then scooted around the head of the bed and did the self same thing to Joe's right ankle, securing that also to his shoulder.

Before he fully realised what was going on Joe found himself not only still trapped down on his back on his bed, but now with his legs pulled back, and up until his feet were almost touching his face. This, naturally had caused his buttocks, and part of his lower back to raise up from the mattress in a fashion that exposed him even more than he had been before and made what was going to happen next, all the more obvious.

"I bought this with me especially for this." Aiden explained as he produced a length of leather, that was about two feet in length, and split in half for near on half that length. "It's called a taws!"

The teenager knew what it was called, but didn't say anything unable as he was to take his eyes off the item that was now been raised high above him, until, it dropped down to make sharp contact to his upturned rear.

THWACK!

"Ouch!" Joe yelped as the red hot sting spread quickly across his buttocks, and which was quickly followed by another one a second later.

THWACK!

A gasp escaped from Joe's mouth as the stinging spread, and continued to spread.

THWACK!

Joe's gasp turned into something of a cross between a cry and a half hearted scream causing Aiden to warning him that if he made too much noise someone would be bound to come up to see what all the noise was and did he really want anyone to see him as he was? Then, with his warning delivered, Aiden got back to business.

THWACK! THWACK! THWACK! THWACK! THWACK!

THWACK! THWACK! THWACK! THWACK! THWACK!

A total of just over a dozen blows were delivered to the helpless teenager's rear end, while Joe did his best to keep quiet but it wasn't easy as his bottom and the higher backs of his thighs were whipped so toughly.

By the time Aiden was finished, Joe's rear end was a good solid red colour and the teenager's cries had fully turned to sobs that he was doing his best to muffle, even as he became broken by the treatment he was receiving, and which, ironically, he'd dreamed about so many times. Yet, now it was happening it wasn't quite as exciting as he'd thought it would be. It just hurt too much for that. But someone was enjoying it.

When the spanking was over, Aiden put down the taws so he could release Joe's legs from their position above his head, and allow them to be laid down once more on the mattress. He didn't, however, release any of the other webbing straps he'd spend over an hour the previous night applying to both Joe and his bed, as he still had a use for those. Right now though, that could wait as he had something else to take care of. Something that had found the opening in his pyjama trousers and which was making itself seen for the first time. His own, eleven year old erection twitched and throbbed, at the excitement it felt from punishing the older boy. This surprised Aiden as he'd already had to masturbate earlier when he'd strapped the teenager down but, at least it proved one thing, there was fun in all this bondage and spanking stuff, just as Joe had previously told him.

It was nearly an hour later before Aiden returned to the room where he'd left Joe strapped to his bed. By now he had taken care of what he had to do, showered and dressed in his normal clothes. Joe too, had clamed down, considerably, although this was about to change when he was the contents of the bag Aiden had bought with him.

"It's a good job mum has to get these in larger sizes for some of the tubby toddlers she gets at her day care," Aiden laughed as he pulled out a slim white item that Joe recognised instantly as a disposable nappy, some cream, and powder. This being followed by an equally oversized dummy.

"What? What are those for?" the teenager asked, even though he could guess, and fear, the answer.

"You of course." Aiden said with a laugh, "It's what all the bad boys wear. Of course, if you'd prefer to be punished some more."

From the pocket of the track suit, Aiden produced the rolled taws which he made a great show of un rolling, before he laid that down on the foot of the bed with the other items. Joe though wasn't about to argue. His bottom was just too sore for that.

Initially Aiden was a little disappointed that he didn't get another reason to use the taws some more, but, soon he was busy with the rest of his plan, completing Joe's transformation into a toddler.

This wasn't the first time Aiden had been called upon to put a nappy on a boy, only usually the boys were much smaller than the current one, and not strapped to the bed, so it wasn't all that surprising that it appeared as if he'd forgotten to remove the crotch straps from the harness to begin with and had to go remove the nappy before he'd even had the chance to do it up. But this was, in fact, deliberate, so that Joe would feel the humiliation not once, but twice of being diapered, and it worked too. Even so the teenager found the cream that was applied to him, somewhat cooling, as was the powder that was sprinkled over his privates, before his legs were lifted up so the disposable nappy could be pushed under his buttocks, and then over to cover his front. The tabs then pulled around the side to stick across the front and hold it in place.

The crotch straps had to be let out slightly, to allow for the nappy before they were re-attached, to the chest plate on the harness. Joe watching as Aiden gave a little twist to the fastening that locked them in place so 'little fingers' couldn't release the straps that now not only held him down on his bed, but made sure his nappy wouldn't come off either.

"There that's you dressed. So time to get you up for some breakfast." Aiden told him, "But don't try to run away, or you'll get the strap again, understand?"

Joe nodded, thinking that the last thing he wanted would be for anyone to see him, a fourteen year old boy, wearing a nappy, and not a particularly big nappy at that. Instead he just lay there and waited while Aiden moved around either side of the bed, reaching underneath him, to release the harness from the straps attached to his bed, until, at long last he was able to lift his upper body up.

"Move over to the highchair, like a good baby." Aiden told him, half expecting the teenager to rebel but forgetting that this wouldn't be the first time Joe had sat in the seat, even if the current circumstances were somewhat different this time.

The high chair, like all the other purpose made furniture, Joe had inherited from Fred Clark, was constructed from sold wood, in a traditional style most toddlers would recognise, only it was build in a larger size, suitable for a teenager. There were, however, some difference, that Aiden – an expect in such things – had noticed at once but which Joe was unaware of. The seat was somewhat narrower than normal, and the back rest was higher but there was a good reason for both of those, as would soon become apparent.

Aiden allowed Joe to climb up into the seat in his own time, but once the teenagers recently spanked and diapered rear was in the seat he wasted no time in first fastening the waist strap and then, clipping the rear of the harness Joe was still wearing on to the clips emerging from the back of the high chair.

Once the straps were fastened in place, Aiden picked up the highchair's table slipped it into place in front of the teenager, until it clicked into place. He then guided Joe's feet up onto the footrests, so he could slide the wooden bar into place that would ensure they stayed there. Joe now only able to move his feet a little from side to side, but nothing else.

"I don't want you kicking me." The youngster laughed as he unpacked a few pots of baby food he'd bought with him from his mum's stock.

Joe watched in disbelieve as the first pot was unscrewed, and a plastic spoon dipped in, before being raised up to his mouth. "Open wide!" Aiden instructed, and, without realising it, Joe did.

It took all three jars Aiden had bought with him until the teenager had finally had enough as the food was surprisingly tasty – this Aiden knew have been know to eat it himself rather than feed it to the toddlers in his care – but when it was time for Joe to have a drink, the reaction wasn't quite the same. The teenager just bulked at the sight of the large baby bottle filled with milk. He just didn't like milk and refused to open his mouth to take it in yet unable to explain his reluctance, for the same reason. All the time Aiden just got mad.

"That's it, I'm getting the strap." The preteen eventually snapped, before doing just that.

A few seconds later Aiden was back with the strap, but before he could use it he unsnapped and removed the table from the highchair. This exposed the long lengths of Joe's bare thighs that rested right on the edge of the small seat, and made them the perfect target for what was about to happen.

Aiden worked from both side, rounding the chain ever so often, lashing down on each of Joe's thighs from the bottom of the nappy down to the knee on both legs. He made sure the tails of the taws curled around both the insides and the outsides of the legs so that not a single part of the legs was missed.

For Joe this was all totally new. The sharp stinging of the strap soon becoming all consuming until that was all there was, the awful stinging. Blow after blow making his thighs vibrate with a pulsing pain that would, eventually make him all too keen to accept the milk from the bottle when it was once more offered to him, some ten or fifteen minutes later.

Another half hour passed during which Joe had no option but to sit in his high chair, looking down at his red, stinging thighs, and while Aiden set up the next part of his adventure. At least that's what Joe assumed he was doing, as for most of the time he couldn't actually see what the younger boy was doing, although he was aware of the footsteps going up and down the stairs leading into the rest of the care home a few times. Not to mention the few minutes Aiden spent in the bathroom immediately after Joe's second spanking of the morning.

"Right then, everything is ready!" Aiden returned to the highchair, "How are you doing?"

"Sore!"

"Well if you will be a bad little baby!" mocked Aiden, using the same babyish voice he did at the day care when talking to toddlers. He then produced the oversized dummy, and held it up in front of Joe's face, "Baby's only talk when they are told to. Open up."

Joe naturally wasn't unused to being gagged, so allowed the rubber bulb to pre pushed into his mouth, which it filled surprisingly well.

"Good, now let's get you down to the stroller for your walk, then shall we."

Not surprisingly Joe wasn't too keen on this idea but he feared another dose of the strap even more, so didn't say anything as the rail was removed from his ankles, and then his harness was unclipped from the highchair. Finally the waist strap was unbuckled and he was able to slid down onto his feet, where he stood for a second, slightly unsteadily on his shaking legs before he was lead down the attic steps to where the stroller was waiting for him.

It was a funny feeling for Joe to walk in the nappy as it was both thicker and softer than anything he normally wore, and yet at the same time he also felt somewhat naked as the diaper didn't cover all that much of his body, given that there was not much more to it's side other than a thin piece of cloth around over his hips holding up the white padding that covered both his buttocks and his private. The latter of which, he was well aware, was making a significant bulge in the nappy, that contrasted a lot with the redness of his legs.

The stroller was waiting at the bottom of the attic steps. It was made from metal tubes with a light blue canvas seat strung between them. This made it remarkably comfortable, as Joe already knew, but which was even more so the case now, given the hardness of the wooden highchair seat.

So it was that Joe settled down into the stroller with much less fuss that Aiden had expected, which resulted in the taws staying in the preteen's pocket, as he made short work of once more fastening a waist strap around his oversized baby, and then attaching Joe's harness to the back of the stroller. The final job being to get the teenager's feet up onto the foot rests where similar rails to those on the highchair, would hold them in place.

"Good," Aiden said when he was done, "Now here's the rules. All you have to do is act like a baby and follow my lead. When I pat you on the head, you have to cry like a baby. When I clap my hands you ask for your bottle, but you can't just ask for it, you have to do it like a real baby will. Got it?"

Joe nodded, which given he still had the dummy in his mouth was pretty much all he could do.

"There's one last thing. When the time comes try to make out that you've wet yourself too, like a baby would."

Without further ado, Aiden moved behind the stroller and started to push it along the corridor and towards the lift at the end, which would take them down to the lobby, along the way, they bumped into one of the residents.

"Hello boys," she said, without batting an eyelid, "What are you up to?"

"We're making a film." Aiden said, holding up the video camera. "Joey here wanted to know what it was like to be a baby at my mum's day care, so I said I'd show him."

"Is that so?" the women said in a tone that suggested she didn't quite believe him, but which was directed at Joe.

Seeing this Aiden reached down and removed the dummy from the other boy's mouth so he could answer. "Tell the nice lady Joey."

Remembering what Aiden had told him earlier, Joe replied in the best babyish voice he could manage. "Uh-huh. Me a baby."

"Well, well!" the women laughed, "What do you know? You sure make a cure little baby, and in a nappy too."

"Me baby. Me wear nappy." Joe said, without prompting, causing more laughter from both the women and the boy stood behind him.

After a short while the women went back to her business, and the boys made it, via the lift down to the lobby, where Aiden steered them around the side and into what was normally called the Day Room, and which should have been empty at that time in the morning while the sun was around the other side of the building, but sitting there, they found Mrs. Patrick.

Upon seeing Aiden's grandmother, Joe felt himself blush, but even more so than the previous old lady, Mrs. Patrick didn't seem the slightest bit surprised to seem the teenager, dressing in just a nappy, dummy in his mouth, harnessed up to the stroller he was being pushed around in, even though she didn't appear to recognise him.

"Ah Aiden, have you bought a little toddler to cheer up us old folks?"

"Yes Gran." Aiden beamed, at his grandmother.

"Would he like to get out of his stroller and play for a while?"

Aiden nodded down, "Why don't you ask him?"

Mrs. Patrick repeated her question, but this time reached down and plucked the dummy from Joe's mouth so he could reply.

"Na-ha!" he said shaking his head, which Aiden then patted.

For a moment Joe didn't get the signal but then he did, and started his fake crying, that he hoped sounded as young as he had been made to look.

"On no," Aiden sighed dramatically, "Baby Joey is upset."

The old lady looked puzzled. "Why's that? Is he wet?"

"Not sure. Why don't you ask him?" Aiden said before clapping his hands, behind the stroller so only Joe could hear it.

"Me want bottle." The teenager instantly said.

"Ah that must be it." Laughed Aiden, producing a bottle from the back pocket of the stroller, which he gave to his grandmother. "Why don't you do it."

Taking the bottle, Mrs Patrick turned it around and put the nipple into Joe's mouth. The teenager doing his best to smile as he apparently eagerly sucked on it until nearly all of it was gone.

"He's a good little baby isn't he?" Mrs. Patrick said, handing the bottle back to her grandson, to replace, however before he did so Aiden gave one last signal.

Joe had to gulp before he said what would turn out to be his last line of the movie he was inadvertently making. "Me go pee-pee!"

"OH dear! I guess I'd best go change him, before he does anything else." Aiden said, slowly spinning the stroller around.

IT was pretty much over from that point, but that didn't stop Joe from continuing to blush from the humiliation of it all, or from walking a little stiff legged for the rest of the day. Nor did it stop the erection he got whenever he thought about what had happened. And, once more, he wasn't the only one with that particular problem either.

Chapter Nine

"Are you boys ready to go swimming today?" Mrs. Patrick asked, her son and his friend, when they entered the livingroom.

"Swimming?" Joey asked, this being the first he'd heard about it. He'd just thought he was going to be spending the day at Aiden's house, not that they were going anywhere. If he'd known that he wouldn't have gone to all the trouble of wearing his short trousered uniform – albeit covered by a tracksuit until his mum had pulled away from dropping him off. Mind you, he was the only one who was surprised.

"Yeah, Mum takes her kid once a month, and today's the day." Aiden broke in, "Don't worry, I've got you something to wear so you don't spoil your clothes."

"What's wrong with what he's wearing. He looks really smart." Mrs. Patrick asked.

"Joey gets into trouble if he gets his nice clothes dirty, so he's got special play clothes instead."

This was the first Joey had heard about it, but it sounded like a plan, especially if it mean he wouldn't be seen in public in what he had on. Thankfully Mrs. Patrick appeared to agree.

"Right then, you boys go and get ready, and we'll be going in half an hour sharp. Don't make me late again, Aiden."

"No mum." The eleven year old said, giving Joey a shove towards the stairs.

"Right then," Aiden said, once then were upstairs, "We haven't got long so get your clothes off, unless you want a spanking to start with."

Joey didn't want another spanking, or at least that's what he thought but even as the words were spoken, he felt a twinge in his penis. Still this was no time to think about that, so instead, he slipped off his shoes – without undoing the laces – pulled his jumper off over his head, which he laid out on the end of Aiden's bed. Soon it was joined by his tie, shirt and socks, and finally his shorts, until there was only his underwear left.

Knowing better than to pause, or show any sign of not following orders, Joey slipped his thumbs into the waistband of his briefs, pushing them down over his hips and down to his feet. These he thin picked up, folded, and placed on the pile of the rest of the clothes just in time for Aiden to return to the room.

"Great you're ready. Come with me."

"But 3;" Joey started to say having very clear doubts about wondering around someone else's house naked, but by the time he'd got the word out he was talking to himself, Aiden had already left again. Giving him no option but to follow.

He found the younger boy waiting for him in the bathroom, with a tube of lotion in his hand which he soon handed to Joey, "You can rub this in yourself, before you shower."

"What is it?" Joey turned the bottle over but there was no label on it.

"It's little boy soap," Aiden snapped, "Now get on with it."

Following the further instructions he was given, Joey stepped into the large shower area, and started squirting ample amounts of the strange smelling substance on what Aiden told him were his body's most smelly parts, namely under his arms, and between his legs, both back and front.

"Now rub it in, and then we can do something else before you wash it off. Lean over with your elbows on the side and keep your legs straight."

Joey didn't like the sound of the position as he knew that it would cause his bottom to stick out, but all the same, he got into it anyway, hoping that, if he did as he was told he could avoid the spanking being too hard. However, that wasn't what Aiden had in mind.

"Have you had an enema before? You know, where you get water squirted up your bum to clean you out?"

"Only when I was really little."

"Well, seeing as you're little again, you should get used to it." Aiden laughed picking up a small plastic bottle with a long nozzle screwed onto the lid out of a sink where he had previous prepared it.

Looking over his shoulder Joey did his best to watch but the angle was wrong, still he could feel as his buttocks were parted, and for the cold nozzle to slide slowly, between them, and into him. Of course it wasn't the first time he'd had something up his bottom so didn't feel too bad, just strange especially when the body of the bottle started to nudge as his buttocks.

"Tighten so you don't leak." Aiden told him, Joe clenching his buttock which he hoped would have the right effect.

A few seconds later Aiden squeezed the body of the bottle sending a squirt of cool liquid into the higher reaches of Joe's bottom.

The process was repeated five or six times until Aiden was satisfied enough and been inserted, at which point he instructed Joe to stand up, where he was instantly greeted by the teenager's stiffness.

"Enjoying it so far." Aiden laughed, making Joe blush, "Well see what you think of this."

Joe took the piece of paper he was handed wondering what it was, but the second he turned it over and read the words on the front, he realised that it was the label from the bottle of 'little boy soap' he'd previously rubbed on himself. Only that's not what it was at all. The label said IMMAC HAIR REMOVER. "But I shaved!" he stated, pleadingly.

"Yeah, but this stuff last longer, and in just a few minutes, you won't have to worry about shaving again for weeks or even months, so you can look like the eight year old you want to be."

"Eight?" Joe repeated in a half whisper. He'd always been ten before, but now he was going to be another two years younger still. And, he wasn't even sure what he thought about that.

"Okay, that should be long enough, Get washed."

At the press of a button the water came on in the shower and Joe went beneath it, washing as best he could with just his bare hands, until the button was pressed a second time and the water stopped flowing. Aiden then handing him a towel which he used to dry himself, fully aware that the cream had done the job it was designed for, and even that little bit of stubble that his shaving always left behind was now gone leaving him not only hairless, until completely smooth all over.

"Good job." Aiden complimented him, "Thankfully you're not all that big down there, so I think we'll get away with it."

"Away with what?" Joe managed to asked, but before Aiden could answer – assuming Aiden was going to answer – his mother shouted up that they only had five minutes let.

"Crap, we'd best get a move on." Aiden started clearing up, "Quick go to the toilet and then go back to my room."

A few minutes later and both boys were back in Aiden's room, dressed and ready to go out, even if one of them was a little hesitant about it which wasn't all that surprising given what Joe was now wearing. The elastic waist shorts and vest, were like something out of the dark ages. The shorts were white with red strips over the hips, and were not only really short but tight too. The shirt, had a sort of halter top, with red strips that went around Joe's body all the way up to his arm pits where there was nothing but two straps going up over his shoulders. It was also wasn't really long enough for him, so his stomach appeared every now and again, which only made the shortness of the shorts more obvious, not to mention the slight bulge in the front of them made by his privates. The overall effect though, was something Joe had been both surprised and shocked about, as it did indeed make him look like he was a little kid who was just starting to grow out of his clothes.

Meanwhile, standing beside him, in his regular combat clothing, made him look a couple of years older than he was, especially with the cap pulled on over his head, and the boots on his feet, while all Joe had on his were sandals.

"Ah there you are," Mrs. Patrick welcomed them downstairs, "Now remember Aiden you'll have to look after Joey as I'll bee too busy with the others, now go and get into the car while I finish getting ready."

The day care centre's car was sitting outside, with several small figures already inside. Aiden rushing ahead to take the front seat where the largest of those were already sitting, but when Joe made to follow he was told to go sit in the back with the little kids.

"This is Joey, I'm looking after him today." Aiden announced to al the kids in the car, none of which could have been older than eight or so, with most rather younger than that, including the tiny boy that Joe found himself sitting next too, in a matching car seat. Only while the other child sat with just a seat belt over his lap, Joe was made to put on the full set of restraints in his seat, and then locked into them. Something which he complained about.

"Just put them on unless you want me to spank you again."

Joe instantly blushed bright red, while the others in the car sniggered but thankfully no one said anything to embarrass the teenager further, as Mrs. Patrick came out and got in the car.

The rest of the journey passed by without anything else, the older boys in the front talked amongst themselves which at least mean they left Joe alone, something which continued when they arrived at the small pool that the day centre was renting for the day. The boys then lined up along the side of the van while they were handed their swimming bags, before being marched into the pool's single male changing room.

Once inside Joe followed everyone else's example and opened up his bag to get his swim suit only there was nothing but a towel, and some soap.

"What's up?" asked the small boy next to him.

"I don't have a costume."

"Course not." The kid laughed, "You don't just get one, you have to earn it by swimming a whole length, first. Like me."

Joe looked down at the pair of swim shorts the boy was wearing, as the obvious question came to him, "What if you haven't?"

"Simple, then you swim naked, like them over there."

Sure enough on the other side of the room several of the smallest boys were heading towards the door parked 'Pool' wearing nothing but a pair of goggles.

"But I can't swim naked?" the teenager protested.

"And why the heck not." Aiden suddenly appeared at his side, and with that he gripped the sides of the tiny shorts and pulled them down.

"Hey!" protested Joe, but it wasn't over yet, Aiden had hold of his shirt but instead of pulling it upwards was pulling it side ways towards the bench that ran around the side of the walls.

Suddenly a hush came over the changing room as the other boys realised what was going to happen before even Joe did. This being confirmed when Aiden sat down on the bench and still pulling Joe by his shirt, pushed the other boy down over his lap in the traditional spanking position.

"Are you going to spank him now?" asked the boy who'd sat next to Joe in the car.

"Indeed I am," confirmed Aiden, and with that he started.

SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!

Quickly Joe started to wriggle about, as his rear started to heat up.

SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!

"Please. I'll be good." He begged but it too late. Aiden was enjoying his role to much.

SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!

"Hey, his bum's all red." Whispered one of the little kids as loudly as only a little kid can.

SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK" SMACK!

By now Joe was already snivelling a bit, while the other boys around were giggling loads as, after all, it was for most of them the first time they'd actually seen someone being spanked, especially on the bare bottom.

SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!

Eventually, Aiden had enough and stood up pushing Joe down to the floor, as he picked up some arm bands.

"Here, put these on so you don't drown and get out in the pool."

Slowly, carefully, Joe climbed to his feet, removing his shorts and shorts, leaving himself naked in the room, as Aiden himself got up and headed out into the main pool area, noticeably taking Joe's shorts with him.

The moment the only apparently older boy was gone all the others started to talk, mostly about what they'd just witnessed, and just how red Joe's bum was now which they all wanted to feel, to see if it was as hot as it looked, which naturally it was.

"EVERYBODY OUT IN THE POOL!" a voice suddenly yelled from the doorway and as one all the boys went in that direction, passed a large mirror where Joe was able to catch a faint glance of himself as the only naked boy, amongst a group of primary school boys, most of which were wearing trunks, leaving him as the only one with arm bands. What's worse, he actually looked younger than them.

Out around the pool, all of the boys appeared to know where they were going, but naturally Joe didn't so he just stood there looking for Aiden, when a shadow came up behind him. "You lost kid?" asked a voice.

Joe turned around slowly, and nearly fainted on the spot. Standing directly behind him was Robin Helms, who was not only the swim team captain at his school, but even shared a few classes with Joe.

"I'm the life guard here." Robin explained when he was confronted with the open mouthed expression of the naked little boy in front of him. The fifteen year old, folding his arms across his bare chest, to demonstrate his well defined muscle structure. "Which class are you in?"

"He's new." Came a small voice of one of the other boys.

"He can't swim cos he's naked." Added another while a third put in, "And he's got a big red bum too, cos he's naughty."

Robin looked down, and around Joe's shoulder, apparently failing to notice that the little boy wasn't as short as all the others, as he peered down towards Joe's rear. "Yes I can see that, and it'll get redder if he doesn't behave in here. Understand kid?"

Unable to risk talking in case his voice was recognised, Joe nodded.

"Good, the beginners class is down at the end. Go on. Scoot."

There was a small group of two or three other naked little boys at the end of the pool, so Joe headed in that direction, only too pleased to get away from the school sports hero and any further embarrassment that could cause, only to land himself in even more as clearly all of those he was now with had witnessed his earlier spanking.

It was only at this point that Joe became overly conscious of being naked which was odd as he was with the only other people who were, the thing was he was clearly taller than they were so he couldn't help but think that made his more advanced age all the more obvious not that anyone else seemed to notice as they were too busy talking about him being naked.

Eventually the lesson started, but only when Robin had come over to take it, leaving Joe little option but to keep up the pretence that he couldn't swim even though he was actually a rather good swimmer. Still once he'd started by doing a rather convincing falling in. Unfortunately this resulted in him splashing all the other boys who instantly started splashing him back.

For a second Joe forgot where he was, and how he wasn't dressed, and got involved in a water fight that unfortunately did the very thing he'd been most wanting to avoid. It bought him to the attention of the lifeguard.

"That does it. Get out now." Robin yelled at him, only waiting until he was half way up the steps before his large hand closed around Joe's slender forearm. "Aiden told me you could be trouble and that I should punish you if you were."

"What?" Joe's voice squeaked in both surprise and shock. "You can't!"

"I can, and I will. You've got this coming."

Still holding the younger boy by the forearm, Robin effortlessly spun Joe around, and then started to spank him right there, at the side of the pool.

SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!

It was only a single round of six blows that were delivered to Joe's rear, but they weren't from an eleven year old, but from a fully muscled teenage boy, with much larger hands, and longer arms to swing. That, plus the fact his bottom was not only sure from his earlier spanking, but also wet from his brief time in the pool, intensified the blows no end. So much, that he was crying before they were even half through.

"There. That will teach you little kids to behave." Robin told him when it was all over. "Now go and stand in the corner, with your hands on your head until Aiden can take you home as clearly you can't be trusted to swim like a big boy."

Joe did as he was told. Still with tears in his eyes and still with the arm bands on, over to the corner of the building where he stood staring at the joint in the walls, with his obviously red bottom pointing out towards the pool, in full view of any and everyone for the next hour.

Aiden eventually came to collect him but not before he himself had finished swimming and had gotten changed back into his street clothes. "Come on Joey, time to go."

They walked slowly back towards the changing room, but then, just before they were about to go inside, Aiden stopped and turned towards a small room to the side. "You'd best say you're sorry for what you did."

Sitting inside the room was Robin Helms, with his feet up on the table, leaning back looking at the two of them standing there.

"I'm sorry." Joe mumbled until prompted from behind to do better. "I'm sorry I was naughty and that you spanked me."

"That's okay kid." The larger teenager smiled, once more flexing the muscles in his upper body, which in turn made the front of his board shorts appear to bulge slightly. "How's your bum doing?"

With a blush creeping up into his face, Joe slowly turned around to show his rear to his peer, who whistled through his teeth.

"That's a nice red bum" Robin laughed, "Now just you behave or else it will stay like that, all the time, kid."

"Thank you." Joe said, although why he said that he had no idea. He just couldn't think of anything else to say.

"No problem." Robin dismissed them both, "Anytime."

The rest of the trip went without incident. Of course, Joe had some trouble sitting still during the trip home, and was at the receiving end of many jokes from the younger boys, but he had gotten used to that, especially as his mind was elsewhere. Mainly with images of the school hunk spanking him like a little boy again, and doing other things, or a far more grown up nature.

Chapter Ten

Long before Fred Clark's death had left Joe Marshall with more the sorts of the toys than the boy had previously been able to think off, his games had been rather more limited.

They'd started out simple enough, even when he'd managed to get his hands on a pair of handcuffs with which he quickly discovered he could handcuffs his hands behind his back, on his own, and that without the key couldn't free himself and yet, with the key, release was easy.

One night, up in the attic by himself, he took off his clothes and lay on his bed naked, with his erection pushing out from his lean body. The handcuff key was right there on the bedside table, but as he cuffed his hands behind his back, he got an incredible thrill to be naked and chained, even though there was no real risk of anyone finding him, at least not before he could free himself.

That first time, Joe had laid there for nearly half an hour before he couldn't take the excitement any more and had to do something about it which was, namely to first free his hands and then to masturbate 3; twice at the thought of being chained up.

The games continued from that night, in and around the other things he was doing. On the nights when he didn't have the time to set something else up, he would simply handcuff himself. Sometimes he did it just like the first time, on other occasions he did it with the key on the other side of the room, so he'd have to go and get it before he could free himself which would be more of a thrill, he discovered, if he tied his feet together first forcing him to hop, which would, in turn, make his erection bounce around.

By the time the wardrobe was open, he had become a little board with this simple game, favouring the more complicated ones instead, but then, he found himself with more than just handcuffs, but with leg irons, collars, gags and more items that he had yet to try out and with which he could easily expand his games.

The most memorable of these happened a shortly before some of Joe's secrets became known to Aiden Patrick, when Joe still had that time on his own, after he'd finished his chores in the home, right through to the following morning and Joe decided to have a day of chains.

That evening, locked into the attic, he stripped naked, before putting a chain around his waist which he locked behind him with one the padlocks from the wardrobe that all worked on the same key. Short linked leg irons then went around his ankles, a collar around his neck, a ball gagged in his mouth and finally a pair of handcuffs that were locked to the waist chain. The key to all of these was left, purposely in the wardrobe from where Joe would have to get it at some later stage. A spare left out, as always in a small box under his bed where it always was.

For the next two hours, as the sun set, Joe enjoyed the sensation of being totally restrained by steel, with his erection pushing out in front of him at all times.

It was almost dark by the time Joe decided he couldn't take any more and went for the key, only to discover a major flaw in his plan. With his wrists, not only handcuffed behind his back but to the waist chain, he couldn't actually get his hands up high enough to reach the key, that was on the middle shelf, level with his chest.

At first Joe attempted to knock the key from the shelf with his head, but with his mouth gagged, he couldn't pick it up, and with night falling fast he couldn't really see what he was doing. So went for his emergency release system.

Kneeling down carefully, and then sitting on his bare bottom on the attic floor, Joe extended his chained legs under the bed, and using his handcuffed hands as a pivot, swung his legs around until they knocked the box containing the spare keys out from under the bed. This though didn't prove to be much of a release either.

The box was sealed with a combination padlock that, as it had now grown dark, Joe couldn't make out the numbers of the small rings, and, even if he had, he would still have had trouble working them with his hands behind his back.

In the end Joe had remain chained up all night, as he couldn't reach the pull string hanging down from the ceiling to turn on the attic lights either. It only being in the morning that he was finally able to see well enough to open the combination lock on the box, and free himself.

This adventure taught the fourteen year old two things. The first was, never lock up your emergency release and the second was that, not being able to masturbate, made the eventual masturbation all the more fun, when it eventually happened.

Other games of a similar nature followed involving both the chains, and darkness, but also including some of the things from the wardrobe, namely butt plugs.

When Joe had first seen the range of the rubber and plastic sex toys, he'd instantly known what they were for, even though he'd never seen them before. Yet, it wasn't until he was tempted into trying on the leather lockable shorts, that he'd even thought about using one. Since that day though, when the built in butt plug had remained lodged in his bottom, giving him thrill after thrill, he'd started to incorporate them more and more into his games.

The games Joe came up with might not have been as inventive as some of his others, as they basically were all the same, involving him being locked up with a plug stuffed up his bum, but they did range from the totally basic to the one he was trying out for the first time when Aiden finally caught him doing more than pretending to be a little kid.

The basic form of the game was to place a previously lubricated butt plug – he'd learned that much in his games – somewhere around the attic. Then Joe would turn off the lights.

In the darkness, sometimes aided by a blindfold, the fourteen year old boy would strip naked before walking naked over to where the handcuffs were. These he would then put on, along with some, or all of the other chains, before, in total darkness setting out to find the butt plug.

Slowly he'd have to work his way across the room searching carefully with his bare and chained feet for the plug. Then, when he'd found it, he'd have to slowly and carefully crouch down, without his hands to help, and guide the plug up into his bottom.

Once the plug was fully inserted, Joe would stand back up and work his way back to the bed where he'd have to lie down and wait until the morning, before he could release himself and do what had to be done.

All these games were slowly leading up to the ultimate one that finally came together a short while after little Joey had been paraded naked, and spanked, at the local swimming pool.

That morning Joe had been routing through the back of the cupboard where he'd come across yet another of the box of goodies that he always seemed to unearthing. This one, like all those that had gone before it, offered up some more goodies that were labelled 'Chastity Devices' and which set Joe's heart racing.

Several of the devices frightened Joe a little bit although that may have been because he was unable to work out how they worked but there was one that was not only simple but clearly effective.

It was constructed from a thick rubbed ring that went around the base of a boy's privates and onto which a small metal cage could be fixed and then locked with a tiny padlock. The cage would cover both the penis and testicles, keeping the former pressed down onto the latter so that it couldn't get stiff, while at the same time allow the wearer to urinate. Joe thought it the perfect thing to wear while he tried out the latest bit of sex hardware he'd found in the back room of the attic.

The rocking horse had been there all along but it hadn't been until Joe had started playing with the butt plugs that he'd finally realised that it wasn't as innocent as it seemed.

Carved from the same sturdy dark wood as the rest of the over sized baby furniture Joe had inherited it looked fairly ordinary, in a childish way. Set on two rockers, the four legs rose up past small pegs for the rider's feet, to a long flat piece on which the rider sat. At the back end of this rose a small fluffy tail, while at the front, the body of the rocking horse continued up into the rough shape of a horse's head. There was, however, a few odd things about the horse. The first was that beside the foot rest was a small metal ring, on each side. The tail, although mostly made from what appeared to be real horse hair, also had a short, and strong elasticised strap, that ended in another ring. And, perhaps most odd of all, there was a hole in the middle of the seat, which Joe had discovered had a screw thread cut into it, probably for a saddle. Or, at least, that's what the boy had thought until the butt plugs reared their heads.

The full range of sex toys contained within the wardrobe was impressive by anyone standards, but for a fourteen year old with an over active sexual imagination there were something else altogether. Not only did they come in a full range of sizes from some that were about the size of Joe's little finger, right up some that made him wince just to hold in his hand. But they were also of a variety of designs. Some long and smooth. Some had bumps, or ridges down their lengths. Others, were of a traditional cone shape. Some had fake testicles fastened on the bottom. Some didn't. A couple had a sucker so they could be stuck to the floor or furniture. Others had rings or clasps or catches so they could be attached to chains, or rope. And then there was one of the longest, that not only swelled out dramatically near the base, but which had, as it's base, a screw thread that fit perfectly into the seat of the rocking horse.

The second Joe had found out the dildo could be fixed onto the rocking horse seat, he finally realised what the use of the toy was and all the other apparently anomalies made sense. The rings by the foot rests were for chaining the rider's ankles in place, and the bungee strap in the tail was to hold him down, on the plug that he would be rocking back and forth on, as he rode the horse.

Joe, of course, couldn't wait to try it as the perfect extension of the sensory deprivation that he'd been thinking of before.

The End