(No "action" is really described in this one, FYI)
The guy finally came home.
As he walked up, something moved right by his door. Something dark, right at ground level.
He picked up the box, and turned it over. Shook it a little...
And carried it inside.
He dropped it and walked off. Came back a few minutes later, held the labeled side up for a moment, and soon he was cutting through the tape. He flipped the lid open and looked inside, exhaling smoke as he did.
Black leather? He reached in, and grabbed...
...a strap. Too long for a belt. Heavy leather, but well-oiled.
As the first loops cleared the top of the box, they slid up his wrist. Pulled tight.
He dropped the box. The rest of the strap came free. Rising up like a snake, or maybe a vine, the other end circled his left wrist -
And pulled.
He backed up. But the strap pulled his hands together, and the end dipped gracefully for his left ankle, and his right. Caught, slammed together -
Down he went, on his ass.
The strap weaved and knotted. There was still a good eight feet free, flexing over him. He stared at it, squirming like crazy. He started to yell, but he lived alone.
The free end of the strap darted into the box, and lifted it. Black shapes fell out. He yelled again, and the strap dug into the shapes -
One leaped toward his head. It cut him off in mid-scream.
It was a leather gag. Pressing down, and wrapping. The ends met, and one of 'em had a buckle, twisting his head as it fastened nice and tight.
He shook his head all around, with a shocked expression. It wasn't going anywhere. He flopped around on his living room rug, hogtied and gagged. The strap didn't slip...
It was crazed with pleasure. Too happy, perhaps.
|
There had been a time when it did what it was made for, but it didn't remember that part of its existence. The first thing of which it was really aware was being oiled. Black gloves, carefully oiling it, stroking... It held him down and whipped him good, turned him over and whipped his front side, and played with his private parts for most of a day. But the guy needed water, and he was covered with his own shit. The strap needed help... By the time the rapist was covered with tattoos, the gloves were really pretty good at it. They let the rapist go, and came back with a big bag of pot from a kid who'd been selling it. They slipped back on the tattoo artist's hands and got some papers and had him smoke a lot. Then they tied him down and rolled up joints themselves and made him smoke some more. They filled in the few spots where he didn't already have a tattoo, and they played with him for a couple more bottles of booze. Then they let him go... but they kept his equipment. The strap liked its new skills. But what it liked best was punishing the rapist. Having him all to itself, doing whatever it wanted to him. Discipline. |
The guy it held now was no angel. He had a few tats. Probably a bad guy, alright.
He quit struggling after an hour. Little fits of struggling, after that, but it had him tight. He laid there until it got good and dark.
Then the other shapes which had been in the box came to life. They were leather gloves. The strap put them on his uncooperative hands and lifted him off the ground. It made his hand unlock the door and open it, then it carted him outside. Turning, he closed the door. His keys slid out of his pocket, and into his gloved fingers. He locked the door, and the keys went back into his pocket.
The strap carried him high into the air, over a couple blocks...
Into the back of a vacant store.
One of a dozen gloves there sprang to life, closed the door and locked it. Now he was in for it. Another bad guy, brought to justice. The strap's brand of justice.
It set him down on the floor, in the middle of a set of thick rings. Gloves brought rope over, and the strap yielded just enough to let 'em tug his clothes off.
They tied his feet well apart. The strap pulled his arms up high and kept 'em there. An ashtray landed near his head, startling him. Then a pack of Camels and some matches.
Five cigarettes were lit and set in the ashtray, and the strap had it slide right next to his head. He was going to smell smoke, but the strap wasn't going to give him one. Serves him right, for blowing any smoke in the box when he opened it. Let him breathe it in. See 'em - but no cigarettes for him. No joints, either.
He was anchored good and tight. It left the gag right where it was, oiled up eight bad-guy gloves... and it started to play.
One end snaked down and wrapped around his private parts, squeezing now and then. He was busy wriggling and howling.
It played with him hard, stopping only for him to catch his breath and drink some water. It played with him all night and most of the next day. Then it let him sleep...
And it got out the tat gun.
He had the beginnings of a fine mural on his back when he woke up again. The strap got his limbs and wrapped 'em up in front of him, lit more cigarettes, and had the gloves feed him. Then, after more water, it had the gloves play with his feet and ass and neck all night. The strap didn't forget his private parts, either.
There was a crack in the floor. It lit one Camel after another and stuck 'em into the crack. It held him so his nose was a couple inches from the cigarette. And it let the cigarettes burn all the way down, replacing them, as he squirmed and moaned, laughed and laughed and laughed.
And it really enjoyed holding him, tightening a little more whenever it wanted, reminding him with a little pain that it was keeping him off the streets.
It finished tattooing his back and started on his arms. Because the design was an intricate web of straps and gloves and whips, it was taking a long time. But that was okay. It kept him crazed when he was awake, thinking up new ways to play with him. He wasn't going anywhere.
Good thing, too... 'cause it became more obvious as the ink spread down his chest and his stubble turned into a mustache and beard. He was definitely a bad guy. Real bad. He just hadn't been caught yet.
But the strap was on to him now.
And it wasn't going to release him until his rehabilitation was certain and complete.
25dec00