The Escapees

by Max Roper

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© Copyright 2020 - Max Roper - Used by permission

Storycodes: FF/m; bond; rope; outdoors; kidnap; reluct; nc; X

Not many vehicles come down here. Especially at night. I walked out to see who it was. The car was stopped with its parking lights on. As I walked toward it a spotlight came on, blinding me. I instinctively put my hands up to shield my eyes. 

The passenger door opened and a voice said, “Stop right there and put your hands all the way up.” 

It was a woman’s voice. I don’t get newspapers or the internet out here but I had a radio. I was pretty sure I knew who they were. I put my hands up. 

“Turn around.” 

I turned. Two sets of footsteps approached and something hard was pressed against my neck. 

“This is a pistol. Not very big but big enough. Are you gonna be a good boy?” 

I nodded. 

“Right. I want you to strip.” 

I didn’t see a lot of options here. I stripped down to my briefs and socks. 

“I guess that’s good enough. Put your hands together at the base of your spine.” 

As soon as I complied a rope encircled my wrists and was cinched tightly. 

The hard object was removed from my neck. 

“We don’t want to hurt you,” she said. “But we will if we have to.” 

Something was put over my eyes, wrapped round my head and tied off at the back. 

“It’s better if you don’t see us. Let’s go up to your trailer.” 

I thought they might tie my ankles, maybe tie me to a chair, take whatever they wanted and leave. That’s perhaps what would’ve happened until they found my rope bag. It didn’t take them long to figure out what all those neatly coiled lengths of clothesline were for. 

“Apparently our new friend enjoys a little bondage now and then. Are you a do-it-yourself kinda guy? Or do you have a friend?” 

“Some of each,” I replied, barely able to keep the quaver out of my voice. 

Deciding honesty was a good habit to get into in this situation, I added, “Usually alone.” 

“This is as good a place as any,” one of them said. “Better than sitting in the car somewhere. Maybe we can have some fun while we wait for that call. Let’s get the big fella trussed up.” 

“You don’t have to tie me any more than you already have,” I said, showing them my bound wrists. “I won’t give you any trouble.” 

Bondage games by myself or with a partner are not the same as being at the mercy of strangers. I was scared. 

“Nice try, but no. You’re getting tied up. Don’t give us an excuse to get nasty with you. It’s a fantasy come true, right?” 

They both laughed. I couldn’t bring myself to join in. 

Ropes were wrapped and cinched round my chest and waist pinning my arms to my torso. My legs were bound at the ankles and above the knees. 

I was told to kneel and when I complied my legs were bound ankles-to- thighs with my heels pressing against my butt. By this time I was sporting a full erection and one of them said “eww” when she accidentally brushed against my undershorts and apparently got a bit of pre-cum on her hand. 

Once I was trussed up, they had no interest in me or my erection. Instead they left me on the floor and climbed into my bed, cooing and squealing. Behind my blindfold I could guess what they were up to, which only increased my arousal. 

After a couple hours they received a phone call. Apparently it was good news. one of them patted me on the head, told me I’d been a good boy, that the scissors were next to the right rear tire of my truck, and left. 

Eventually I managed to slither out to the truck, find the shears, and free myself. 

Probably wouldn’t have taken so long if I’d been in a hurry. 


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