By John Strickland
From behind, Zac tugged Keagan’s T-shirt over his head.
“Hey!” exclaimed Keagan. “My T-shirt!” he said.
Keagan had a great body. He had filled out a lot since the last year to become athletic and muscular.
“You don’t need a T-shirt,” said Stefan, already picking up the straitjacket. “Leather lining!” he said. “You sure you’re ready for this, Keagan?” He noticed Keagan’s nipples were erect. He noticed Keagan’s crotch was bulging.
“Yeah,” said Keagan, licking his dry lips. “I’m ready!” He offered his arms outstretched.
Keagan’s arms disappeared into the sleeves and the two guys set to work imprisoning him in the brutal-looking straitjacket. Strap after strap was expertly fastened, the broad collar was strapped securely shut around Keagan’s throat up high under his chin. Keagan was breathing too quickly, he had a serious look on his face.
He raised an arm in its heavy brown canvas and black leather sleeve. He looked at the rivets and the double-strength stitching. The long strap dangled from the end.
“This is awesome!” he whispered in an almost scared voice.
Zac was getting hot. He stepped back to unfasten his PVC suit down to the waist. His toned six-pack was just visible.
“Still think you can get out?” asked Stefan, reaching between Keagan’s legs to grab one of the crotch straps, making sure he got a good feel of Keagan’s leather cargos as he did so.
It took Keagan a moment to answer.
“’Cause I can!” he said, but he didn’t sound too confident.
The boy was strapped up further until he reached the point of no return.
The jacket was long. It hugged his hips. The two crotch straps cinched it together between his legs.
Keagan scratched an itch on his nose with his hand in the leather end of the closed sleeve. He felt the steel buckle attached to it touch cold on his face.
“You’re looking good, Keagan!” said Zac.
Keagan was strapped in the jacket snugly. The dark brown canvas was encasing his body, the soft leather lining was gripping him smoothly and evenly. The leather reinforcements looked mediaeval, black and shiny, riveted to the jacket with dull, black rivets. The leather extended over Keagan’s shoulders to form a yoke across his chest. A thick band of leather extended down the front of the jacket to the bottom, where the two crotch straps were attached. It crossed an equally wide band encircling the waist of the jacket.
Keagan had named it “the torture jacket”! It certainly seemed to live up to its name.
“Time to cross your arms, Keagan!” said Stefan.
“Left over right!” said Zac.
Keagan looked nervous, unsure of what he was letting himself in for.
“If I can’t get out, you guys will let me out, right?” he said holding both hands up, encased in the ends of the closed, leather-reinforced sleeves.
“Sure!” said Stefan the vampire. “Don’t worry there, Keagan!” he said.
“You know you can trust us,” said Zac with a reassuring smile.
Who could not trust that innocent face and those soft brown eyes?
The guys didn’t give the boy any more time to think about it. They took hold of the ends of the sleeves and gave them a jerk to get rid of any slack. Zac had hold of Keagan’s left arm and Stefan his right, and they crossed them across his chest, quickly passed the sleeve ends through the dark brown leather retaining straps on the sides of the jacket and just as quickly passed the strap at the end of the left sleeve through the buckle on the right.
Looking at Keagan directly with his penetrating blue “vampire” eyes, Stefan grabbed hold of Keagan’s leather-reinforced elbows and jerked them together. At the same moment, Zac, at the back, pulled hard and clicked the prong of the buckle through a hole in the leather strap he had firmly in his grip. Keagan’s arms were now strapped tightly around him, the sleeves now joined together at the back.
“Tight enough, Keagan?” asked Stefan, again pushing the boy’s elbows together. Zac tightened the strap by one more hole.
“Yeah!” said Keagan. He was shaking.
“You OK, dude?” asked Stefan, concerned.
“Yeah,” said Keagan. “Yeah, – I’m OK!”
His heart was pounding. He could feel his pulse pound in his forehead. As Stefan did up the brown strap around his arms, fastening them to his chest, Keagan felt as though he was going to faint. His knees felt weak.
“You sure you’re OK?” asked Stefan.
Keagan suddenly sagged at the knees. The two guys grabbed him and lowered him to the floor.
“What’s up, dude?” asked Zac. “Jacket too tight?”
Keagan looked up at them.
“No,” he said. “The jacket’s awesome!”
Stefan knew the feeling. He, too, found being straitjacketed so intense his head would spin. The feeling of being so helplessly trussed up with no way of getting out always caused him to go weak as if someone had slipped him some mild sedative.
“Help me up, guys!” said Keagan, recovering.
The two jocks pulled him to his feet.
“Where was your mirror again?” asked Keagan, already heading in the right direction.
He stood there in front of the mirror contemplating himself.
“Awesome!” he said, twisting best he could to try to get a look at the straps down his back.
He moved his arms in the sleeves. The light shone off the shiny leather as it pulled and creaked.
The jacket contained his body and arms from chin to the top of his legs. His black leather pants were just the right thing to wear with the jacket. They matched in perfectly.
Keagan was in the torture jacket.
“Still think you can get out?” asked Zac, plonking his hand on Keagan’s shoulder.
“You couldn’t get out of the sheriff’s Posey jacket last year so you’re hardly gonna get out of this one this year,” said Stefan.
“I’m gonna try!” said Keagan. “You gonna film me?”
The film they made was awesome! Keagan moved into the space behind the sofa and with the light streaming down on him from the window high above, he struggled and fought in the straitjacket. He wrenched his body left and right, he leant backwards, he strained forwards, trying to work a little slack into the sleeves binding him tight. He fell down onto his knees and then further down onto the floor where he rolled around, thrashing and bucking like a true madman. The straitjacket was inescapable, the straitjacket was indestructible. Keagan had no possible way of getting out.
Zac was good with the camera. He filmed Keagan from every angle. He got close-ups of the straps, the twisting leather and canvas. He got close-ups of Keagan’s contorted, sweating face. Zac went up to the floor above and filmed downwards from the railing, showing the straitjacketed prisoner full-length, alone and fighting on the wooden floor. The light from above was perfect. It lit Keagan’s straitjacket perfectly, it showed Keagan’s leather cargo pants to their best.
Stefan and Zac were impressed! The boy fought for nearly an hour before he lay on his back panting, sweating and utterly exhausted.
He looked up at the two cool dudes looking down at him.
“Can’t get out!” he said.
“Admit defeat?” asked Zac, still filming.
“Yeah,” Keagan said, smiling gently. “I can’t get out!”
“Knew you couldn’t!” said Stefan. “Don’t forget I wore it for hours and hours last year. I never got out!”
“You had to wear it,” said Keagan from the floor. “It was a full moon, remember?” he smiled.
They had had fun convincing Keagan Stefan was a vampire. The kid had been really scared out there alone in the cabin in the dark woods with these two kinda weird dudes pissing him around!
Stefan raised his hands like claws as if to attack.
“Aaaagh!” he uttered loudly.
“Gonna let me out now?” he said.
“Let you out?” said Stefan, as though a fully unexpected request had suddenly been made.
“Yeah,” said Keagan, losing his smile a bit. “You said you’d let me out!” he said.
“Yeah,” said Zac. “We said we’d let you out, – but we didn’t say when we’d let you out!” he said.
“You stay in the jacket, Keagan!” said Stefan. “You’re our prisoner!” he said.
Keagan struggled a bit in the sleeves. His arms stayed wrapped around him.
“Gotta take it off me. I gotta get off,” he said lightly and casually. “Mom’s expecting me back for dinner,” he said.
“You’re LY-ING!” said Zac in a singing kind of way.
“You said they’re away,” said Stefan.
“Tyler’ll miss me, though! He’ll get real worried if I don’t turn up” the bound boy said.
“Nice try, Keagan!” said Stefan. “He’s away, too. You told us all that, remember?” he said.
“We skype a lot!” said Keagan.
“Still can!” said Zac. “We’ll sit you in front of the camera.”
“GUYS!” shouted Keagan, rolling over onto his belly and then back onto his back.
“Let me out! Please!”
“Think we’d better let the straitjacket do its job, don’t you Zac?” said Stefan.
“Yeah, we’d better,” said Zac seriously. “This guy’s definitely gone insane!” he said. “Poor thing, – had such a bright future!”
“GUYS!” said Keagan again loudly.
Although hidden by his leather pants and the straitjacket, you could see Keagan’s prick was big and hard.
Keagan was really enjoying all this.
At least for the moment.
“How long do I have to stay in this?” asked Keagan, pushing himself over onto his strapped arms to try to get himself onto his knees. The jacket was long and strapped tight down to his hips. Bending at the waist and getting into a sitting position was almost impossible.
“Need a hand?” volunteered Zac, grabbing the boy by his shoulders. Keagan scrambled to his feet.
“Just calm down and accept it, Keagan. You’re not getting out. We’re not letting you out!” said Stefan.
“For a long time!” said Zac.
“GUYS!” protested Keagan once again. He wrenched from left to right. The jacket creaked.
“I was in it for weeks!” lied Zac. “There’s no way out. We don’t even need to lock it on you!”
“WEEKS?” exclaimed Keagan. “You’ve gotta take it off me, – it’s painful!” he said, pushing against the high collar to look down at his crossed and strapped arms.
“Not true, Keagan,” said Zac. “It looks painful, but it’s not. The soft leather lining keeps you all snug and safe. Don’t forget both me and Stefan have worn it for a long time.”
“Now shut up,” said Stefan, “or we’ll have to lace and lock your head into a leather hood, and you’ll not see daylight for days!”
-end of excerpt-
You can read even MORE works by John Strickland at the Houdini Connections website. ALSO: you can write to the author directly at firstname.lastname@example.org and ask (politely!) for the entire sequel to It’s Raining Again. Be sure to mention the Metalbond website in your request to him, and don’t forget to send him feedback.
Metal would like to thank is buddy Mark for his assistance in preparing this excerpt for posting here.