ABOUT BEING TIED UP

BY SHAKEY PSYCHE

[ part 4 ]

Alone

“Okay, boys, I’ve got to do some things, today. So, you’re going to stay here, and I know you’ll stay out of trouble, right?” She laughed at her own little joke then continued. “It’ll be later this afternoon when I return for you, so enjoy yourselves,” She said then I could hear her turn to leave the room.

I screamed through my gag, to try to get her to not leave. Kyle was also screaming as best he could. Being tied up was one thing, but to be left alone at the same time was almost excruciating. Then with the kitchen door open, she stopped, and said something to herself, and then closed the door. I heard her walk back over to us. My hopes of being untied died real quick.

“I almost forgot this,” she said. Just after that, I heard Kyle screaming into his gag, making me wonder what she was doing to him to cause that much commotion. I didn’t have long to wait. I felt her fingers pull at the head of my elongated dick, opening the orifice’s tube. Then something wooden was forced inside the urethra, stretching it open even further. I also began screaming into my ball gag. Both of us squirmed to try to get the toothpicks out of our dicks, but had no success. All that effort did was cause even more pain to our abused scrotum sacks.

Then I heard a sound that was familiar, but took me awhile to place it. It happened twice, then no more. She set something down on the table, and that was when it hit me. She took our pictures with the Polaroid camera. She walked over to the doorway once again, and then turned to us with a farewell.

“Enjoy yourselves, boys. ‘Bye,” she said. She opened the door to the outside world, and left us in our torment. Gone; she was to be gone all day and she probably took the pictures with her.

We were tired, hungry, sore, and in a great deal of pain from the things she had placed on and in our bodies. Our own mother had done this to us. Now, she was leaving. I even heard the car start up and drive off.

I sat there, feeling all the pain and soreness she had inflicted on her two twin sons. It was still totally unbelievable. Mom had never done anything like this to us before. I never suspected anything. As I was sitting there, contemplating our predicament, something occurred to me; she didn’t lock the kitchen door. We were vulnerable to the outside world. Panic hit me like a ton of bricks. There was no way we would be able to defend off anyone if someone came inside the house. It seemed like hours went by while I digested that revelation.

Kyle was making grunting sounds like he was trying to do something, but he wasn’t moving anything, thankfully. I think he was just trying to adjust to his predicament, the same as me. Minutes seemed like hours as time crept along.

An eternity had passed when I heard someone walk up to the kitchen door and walk inside. The steps were too heavy to be our mom’s, and Dad was at work, so this had to be a complete stranger. Panic ripped through me like nothing else; my worst fears had happened. He never spoke a word, but started to rummage around the kitchen for something. A drawer opened and closed then he was standing in front of me.

I was shaking as much as Kyle. I heard a swish, followed by a square pain on my left thigh. Another swish was followed by a pain on the other leg. I had been hit with that before; it was our parent’s flyswatter. Over and over again the person struck my legs, alternating between the two. When this person (it turned out to be a man) was finished, he did the same to my equally bound twin. The swishing and striking went on even longer for Kyle, for some reason.

I felt him start to take the tape off of our hands, and then the twine pulling our nuts together was loosened. The collars, ball gags and blindfolds were released from each other, but not from around our necks or heads. The ropes holding the buttplugs in place were untied from the chair’s backing, but kept wrapped around our legs. The ones binding our hands to the chairs were also undone, but not take off. The rope around my chest and the clothespins were removed. As blood filled my nipples, a new pain was discovered. When the rope was undone, I tried to squirm away from the stranger, but he slapped my sore thighs to make me stop.

My legs were then untied from the rungs of the chairs. Then he forced my body through my arms, to have them in front of me and the twine attached to my dick was untied from the collar. He then forced me over the seat of the chair with my head and arms hanging over the side. The loose ends of the rope around my wrists were pulled under the bottom rungs and tied to the rope still attached to my knees. The slack was taken out, and I was pinned to the chair, helpless again, but this time to a complete stranger.

The rope that had been tied around my chest was wrapped around my back and under the seat, making sure I didn’t slide off it. The ropes that had my ankles bound were used to secure my knees to the legs of the chair and the twine around my dick was reattached to the collar, but under the seat of the chair. It was pulled back to its original tightness.

The man reworked the rope holding the buttplug in to make sure it also didn’t move from its position. He traced it around my back and through my legs, also on the outside of my wrapped ballsacks. Speaking of my ballsacks, he pulled that particular twine downward to tie it off to the rung on that side of the chair.

When he had secured me in this new position, he went to work on Kyle. Through the sounds of grunts and groans, I guessed he was pulling and pushing Kyle in the new position as well. I heard him walk behind each of us, swishing the flyswatter back and forth. That was when the realization of the new position hit me. He wanted our asses up.

With a fast swish, the swatter came down on Kyle’s upturned ass first then in the same stroke, mine was next. Then he swung the swatter back, and I was first to feel the sting of it. Back and forth he went with the stinging instrument. After what seemed like another eternity, he stopped swinging it. He moved to my left side, and swung it upwards to strike my stretched-out testicles, and he didn’t hold anything back by the feel of it. Fire erupted through my groin and I arched my back at the painful assault. This movement caused a pain to reawaken in my cockhead. It felt as if I had pulled off the head.

This didn’t deter him any; he continued to abuse my nuts with the swatter. I bellowed out scream after scream into the ball gag, but he paid no attention. As the assault continued, I thought my poor nuts must have started bleeding. Some part of the swatter hit the inside of my thighs, causing them to redden and become painful, but it was nothing compared to the pain he was inflicting on my jewels. Finally, the attack stopped, but I knew he was about to do the same to Kyle.

I waited as I heard him slapping the flyswatter against Kyle’s own testicles. Each slap brought a fresh round of screams from my twin. He was forced to undergo the same torture I had just endured, and I sympathized with his pain. If we lived through this encounter, we would be walking bow-legged for weeks.

When his battering of Kyle’s balls had ceased, I heard a sound I was strangely familiar with, but couldn’t quite place until I heard the swish and slap of leather. Before he began this phase of his assault, the ball gags in our mouths were removed. Then his belt was assaulting our backsides with the force of a windmill as he used the same back and forth motion. The belt would slap our eight-year-old asses in a sadistic regular rhythm. The pain was excruciating.

I know welts were swelling up across our asses. He didn’t just get our upturned asses, though. The belt made contact above them to our backs and below them to our legs, also. Both of us were crying by this time, but the man continued. We begged, pleaded, cried, and finally promised him anything, if he would just stop whipping us. Just as Kyle and I uttered our promise, he stopped. Both of us sighed our relief.

I heard him put the belt back around his waist then the ball gags were replaced in our mouths. Two more pictures were taken while I was waiting for the next thing for him to do, when he slapped both of our abused buttcheeks, and walked out of the house. He never spoke a single word to us. We didn’t know who had done this to us, or why.

Another thing that was running around in my mind was; why didn’t he rob us? We weren’t exactly wealthy, but we did have some nice things around the house he could have taken. Kyle and I weren’t exactly in a position to stop him. We were in no position to stop him from doing anything, really.

Either way, we were left alone again to contemplate our situation, and to savor our wounds. The time went by just as slowly as the last time, if that was possible. I could hear cars drive pass, other kids playing outside, and even a jet flew over. Another eternity passed before another set of footsteps walked up to the door.

These steps were lighter than the first, but different than our mom’s, plus she had on her dress shoes with heels, and these were not. I heard a snicker come from the area of the door as this new stranger came in the house.

This one untied Kyle first and led him away from me. Some sounds were made at the other end of the living room as Kyle was placed the way this new one wanted him. One sound I recognized was a door opening, but not closing. A few more minutes dragged by before ‘he’ (I’ll use he, because to this day I have no idea who it was) came to get me.

All my bonds were undone and circulation was restored to my wrists. He pulled my arms behind my back and crossed them over each other at the forearm. Two ropes were wrapped around my wrists and just below the elbows. Another rope was wrapped around my upper arm just above the elbow and another just below the armpit. My arms were going nowhere.

A rope was strung around the base of my cock, back between my legs, over the buttplug, and tied to the middle of my arms, very tightly. This was, I’m assuming, to keep it inside my ass. The trouble was, I now needed to pee as well as take a dump. Neither one was going to happen, apparently not any time soon, anyway.

He led me, by the dick no less, to a door. It was there that his full plan was put in motion. He first tied a rope around my ankles, with my feet crossed. He then played with my nipples, making them hard again, and I figured the clothespins were being reattached. I was wrong. He took what felt like fishing line and tied one line around each nipple. That in itself was painful, but then the line was thrown over the top of the door. It was then that I heard my twin as he was pulled closer to the door.

He attached the free ends of the fishing line to the ring on Kyle’s collar, and pulled it tight. It was tight enough to raise me up to my toes. He did the same to Kyle’s nipples by attaching it to the collar around my neck. If one of us moved our heads or necks, the other would feel excruciating pain through his nipples.

We would have been flat against the door, but a toilet plunger was sucked against the door with the handle out. It hit me right in the belly button, which is probably where this guy wanted it. A rope secured the handle to the middle of my belly, making it impossible to dislodge it from the door. Just to make it more impossible, he took the twine that encased my cockhead and wrapped it around the handle and tied it off at the collar also. He moved around the door to do the same to my brother.

With the two twines that ensnared our nutsacks, he ran them under the door and tied them to each other’s ankle ropes. We were bent over like a bow with an arrow notched in the middle. There was nowhere for us to go again.

My nipples were on fire, my cock hurt like hell, and my balls felt like they were going to be cut off, but for some reason, I was still enjoying this. That is, until this guy did what he did next.

Just to make sure we didn’t get too comfortable with our new position, he rubbed a cream on each of our enflamed asses. At first, it was soothing, but a minute later, it started to heat up. I squirmed under the heat, but tried to keep as still as possible, knowing any movement on my part brought great pain to my twin. The pain in my balls and nipples told me he had done the same thing to Kyle.

Another couple of pictures were taken, and then also walked out of the house. The pain was becoming unbearable. I stretched and flexed, trying to get some relief, but nothing was effective. Moment after agonizing moment dragged by, making me think that our mom had deserted us to these cruel people.

Each of us twitched in our torment, but not to the point of causing severe pain to the other. Once again, I could hear other kids outside as time seemed to stand absolutely still. It was impossible to think that just a few yards away, our friends next door were outside playing while we were being tormented.