Note: This is the final chapter. To start at the beginning, click here.

By @reconkayar and @mmmph82

Part 12 – Chaos and Isolation

Immediately, the office is in chaos. French doors to the office burst open, and four guys in SWAT uniforms with masked faces all surround Denny. They all have paintball weapons, and they are pointed at him. They are also screaming.

“DOWN ON THE FLOOR! NOW! DOWN! DOWN!”

Before he can compose himself, the chair is pulled out from under him and he tries to kneel and keep his hands up. A metal barrel pokes him – there is so much happening that he can’t be sure whether or not the weapons are real.

“Wait, I thought it was you all. I don’t know these other guys. Wait, no no no!”

Denny’s hands are up, and he is on the floor.

“FACE DOWN! FACE DOWN!” one of the masked guys yells as they yank his phone away from him. As Denny goes down he briefly looks up and catches sight of Nathan and Ben. They are looking straight at him, saying nothing, calm as can be.

Denny’s hands are yanked behind his back and restrained with two pairs of handcuffs. Another one of the force is cuffing his ankles together. The third force member pulls Denny’s ankles up, folding his knees, and he zip-ties Denny’s ankle cuffs tightly to his handcuffs. He is hogchained and helpless.

“Ahhh fuck. This is a trick. I thought it was going to be you all.”

Denny is so exhausted that he barely fights.

All of a sudden a pair of tactical boots is at his face and his head is being pulled up. A force member winds wide medical tape around his head. Three tight turns around his mouth to gag him, and two more turns across his eyes and around to the back of his skull. Immediately he is bound, gagged, and blinded.

“Noommmmmmm!”

Behind him he hears something being wheeled, and the force commander shouting “1 … 2 … 3 … LIFT,” and Denny feels himself being lifted off the floor. He is placed down on some kind of cot – chained and face down. He deduces that it is a gurney, and he tries to gain some sort of composure to understand what is happening to him.

Denny feels the metal barrels to his head and side of his body. He is nervous but he tells himself it’s their friends and he just doesn’t know them – maybe the weapons aren’t real? He has developed a raging hard-on.

Three restraint belts, not unlike the ones in the van bunks, are pulled across him at the thighs, back, and shoulders and pulled tight. Denny is now completely unable to move, and they are wheeling the gurney out of the office.

Denny realizes he is being moved away from the team members. Again he is bound and gagged, and he has no idea where is being taken, or by whom. He feels himself being wheeled down an extended corridor, and then downhill for a stretch. There are no bumps as if there were stairs. It feels like a ramp.

The gurney enters a room, and he can feel the floor is suddenly quiet and smooth. Even though he can’t see past the tape, he’s aware of being in a brightly lit space. He hears a heavy door close, and again there’s a burst of activity. None of the tactical force have spoken a word since leaving the office.

The belts are removed, and the zip tie is cut, releasing him from the hogtie position. He feels strong arms lifting him off the gurney. He makes some attempt to squirm, but he is being held so firmly it has no discernible effect.

He feels his handcuffs being released, but only one cuff from each pair. With quick motions and before Denny can make any protest, his shirt is pulled over his head and off, and a separate garment – he can’t tell what it is, but it feels like scrubs – is pulled over his head in its place. Two of the force grab the open cuff on each arm and pull each far above Denny’s head, clicking them onto some kind of fittings on the wall. Eyebolts or D-rings, Denny thinks.

He’s now standing against what seems like a padded wall, arms spread and attached above his head. One of the force members rips the tape off his mouth.

“Mmmmmahhh! Who are you all?”

The SWAT force member on the other side pulls the tape off Denny’s eyes – it stings and he yells at the pain, but immediately it is replaced by a black leather blindfold, shutting out all light and buckled behind. The force members continue to restrain him, and nobody pays any attention to his question.

Now his pants and underwear are being cut off of him. He can feel the steel scissors as they creep down his leg, and they feel cold and imposing as they touch his skin. One of Denny’s ankle cuffs is undone, and the matching pants to Denny’s top are slid onto his legs. The force member dressing him positions his cock and balls as he pulls the waist up, taking no notice of Denny’s erection nor making any effort to stimulate him.

Denny feels something smooth as hands touch him. Latex gloves this time. These are very serious SWAT kidnappers. “Come on, I just thought it was going to be Ben or Nathan, I don’t know any of you. I didn’t bargain for this.”

Again, no answer, and no acknowledgment of his protest.

Denny has been stripped of his boots and clothes, replaced by some indeterminate uniform. He has no idea what will happen next, but now he feels the force members reaching up to release his handcuffs from the wall.

Immediately one of the force members comes in front of him, turns him around, and push-directs Denny’s body backwards – one, two, three, four steps, then one step up, and two members of the force lift Denny up and into a sitting position. Whatever kind of seat this is, it’s unusual. The back is padded but very narrow, and there is no way to sit on the seat without his legs being spread, due to a metal rim on the front of the seat preventing him from putting his legs together. They all can see his huge hard-on sticking out from the uniform pants.

Denny begins to rage, “Wait until I get out of this! Fuck! This is a set up! I will see your faces eventually!!”

Two of the force pull his arms behind the chair back, where he feels a small shelf on which his arms can rest. But before he detects it, he realizes the shelf is outfitted with a heavy padded medical restraint cuff.  It fits snugly over both wrists, and the captors buckle it to restrain both hands, pulling it tightly enough that Denny has no way to pull his wrists through.  His wrists are bound.

Separately his ankles are hoisted up off the floor and behind him. They are each tied with rope to a rung on the back of the chair and knotted off, leaving his legs spread and crotch exposed.

“Ahhhhheerrrr fuck this is restrictive!”

“BENNNN! Help! Come on dude!”

The next minutes are a lesson in feeling how much rope can be applied to one man’s body. He feels familiar elements of Ben’s rope harnesses, with which he’s amply familiar by now, but these guys go much further. Turns of rope are looped at six or seven positions (Denny loses count, it happens so fast) on his arms and then pulled off at the harness point behind his back. The familiar stacks of hemp rope above and below his pecs are cinched at his sternum, leaving each of his tits bound with rope above, below, and between. Even with all the bondage of the past couple of days, Denny has never felt this tied up.

They’re not done with him. Additional stacks of rope are used to bind his thighs down to the chair, reinforcing the immobility of his legs.

“Fuckkkkk this is tight. BEN HELP PLEASE!”

Finally, one of Denny’s protests evokes a response. One of the force members reaches around from the back of the bondage chair and clamps his gloved hand over Denny’s mouth. It’s not just on Denny’s mouth, but it presses Denny’s entire head into the cranial pad on the chair back. It’s the last part of his body he can move, so his sense of helplessness, panic, and immobility is intensified.

At the same time, the barrel of one of their paintball guns is touched to his neck to menace him. It looks real enough that Denny is on the edge of panic. The handgagging force member invades Denny’s ear and growls directly into it, low and threatening. There’s a sudden low and deep grunt from below the handgag, and when that happens they look and notice Denny has halfway orgasmed inside his pants and it’s damp.

“Now you LISTEN to ME, fucker. This is not a fucking GAME. You shut the FUCK up on your own, or we WILL fuck you up. Nobody can hear through these walls, and nobody is coming for you. So just SHUT it or you’re going to make it a lot worse for yourself. DO. YOU. UNDERSTAND????”

Denny is feeling an adrenaline rush – this is exciting as it is fearsome. The thin latex glove gagging him and the realistic-looking weapon pointed – it seems to Denny they are trained to subdue him and not leave any trace behind.

Another deep grunt and another half ejaculation comes out, making Denny’s pants even wetter. He shakes his head yes and just moans.

“Mmmmmmmmm!”

The tactical withdraws his glove and says nothing. Nobody acknowledges his orgasm. They seem to have run out of places to tie up his body, and he hears them collecting themselves and moving toward the door. The heavy door shuts, and Denny is left on his own. He is barefoot, blindfolded, and more bound than he has ever been. Whatever movement the rope isn’t preventing is prevented by the shape of the chair.

“Ahhh fuck!”

He tries to move his wrists, but his entire body is tied up tight. There is no movement for anything. He sits there in the dark.

“Ahhh FUCKKK!”

There’s no echo, and an eerie absence of ambient sound. Since they’re in the middle of a college town and yet nobody seems troubled when he screams, Denny’s surmises the room is soundproofed. He supposes it must be modeled the same as the room at the cabin where he was bound and suspended.

He lays his head back in the chair for what seems like minutes and minutes in the dark, “Aghhhhhmmmmmmmmmah!”

More minutes pass. It’s hard for Denny to measure them. He senses when it’s been 5 minutes, and then maybe 15, but soon he can’t tell whether it’s been 30 minutes, or maybe an hour. Nobody is arriving in the room nor speaking to him. It seems he has been left to stew in his own juices.

As his heart rate lowers, he feels the mental and physical exhaustion he expressed as he was on the verge of leaving the house. He feels himself on the edge of sleep but can’t keep his mind from racing as he tries to make sense of what has just happened to him. Who were these guys? Where are the team guys? Where’s Ben?

Should I just have left and not looked back? Did I make a disastrous mistake?

Do I really need to be kidnapped this badly? Where’s Nathan? Where’s Ben?

“FUUUUUUUUCCCKKKKKKK!!” escapes his mouth but sounding more despairing than angry.

Denny starts to doze, but fitfully. It’s not especially restful. He figures it has to have been more than an hour since he was last bound. Maybe even two hours. And he drifts off again.

He isn’t fully awake when the door opens again, but suddenly someone is standing next to him, and he reacts once he feels a finger inserted between his body and the ropes, stretching the tie and sliding around, checking tightness. There’s something familiar. The guy’s hands have leather gloves, and there’s that smell … leather, and…

“Mmmmahhh! Oh Ben! Ben! Help me! Who are these guys?

“I think this was a mistake. Can you get the ropes off of me?”

He knows it’s Ben. There’s no response – Ben doesn’t say anything. But knowing Ben’s in the picture gives him a little comfort.

“Ugh, Ben, come on please talk to me who are those guys, and why them?”

Denny barely gets past the words “talk to me” before a plug is forced into his mouth, and Ben is buckling a mouth-and-chin gag onto Denny’s face. The buckles are done tight, and Denny can hear the leather creaking as Ben pulls the straps. The plug isn’t huge, and Denny can nearly form words, but the two-buckle design means that Denny cannot possibly escape the gag.

With the gag buckled on tight, Denny is done speaking. Ben walks around to the back of the chair and Denny feels something through the gag straps behind his neck, between the gag and his skin. Suddenly his head is pulled back, and he realizes Ben has zip-tied his gag to the chair back. Immediately Denny finds himself unable to move his head, and he is now completely immobilized, blindfolded, gagged, and bound. He hears Ben’s footsteps retreating, and the smell of Ben dissipates.

The heavy door shuts, and Denny is alone again, gagged, cuffed, bound with rope, blindfolded, kidnapped, disappeared — and at his most helpless yet.

Forty-eight hours after he first stepped into an unmarked white van, Denny’s training has begun.

The End

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Click to start at Part 1

Read “the making of” here

List of characters here

Metal would like to thank @reconkayar and @mmmph82 for this story! And thanks to @JarheadTop for review and edits.

You can find all three of these guys on X/Twitter!