Family Ties

Simon was crying, the inside of the hood soaked with his tears, and heavy sobs wracked his suspended body. Chloe was breathing heavily, her chest rising and falling with the exertion and the thrill. She admired her work, the red welts a beautiful pattern across her brother's back and thighs. He was going to need some tender loving care over the next couple of days, that's for sure. She walked over to her mother and nodded, a silent signal that the performance was complete.

Miriam pushed play on a cassette player. Through his sobs, Simon heard shouting. It was his mother, calling his name in a panic. Another voice, Chloe's, joined in, calling for him. He heard a door being banged open. Then he heard his captor's husky voice, cold and angry: "What the fuck?"

His mother's voice, from the cassette recording, shrieked back, "You bitch, what have you done to him?"

"What I'm going to do to you, cunt," his captive snarled. This was followed by a cacophony of banging and screaming, the sounds of a frantic struggle, then footsteps running off into the distance.

Miriam smiled at Chloe and David, enjoying the little opera they had just performed. She switched the cassette off, and they walked toward Simon, their expressions now ones of victory.

"Simon, we're here, son. I'm so sorry we couldn't get here sooner," Miriam said, her voice a perfect blend of relief and guilt. "Come on, Chloe, help me."

David lowered the winch, and Simon sagged onto the floor in a heap. They unhooked his arms and helped him toward the door, making a show of their efforts. But they left his hands cuffed in front, the hood on his head, and the gag in his mouth. They would keep him as helpless as possible, for as long as possible.

The journey back was a deliberately jarring ride in the small Mini. David threw the car into corners with a calculated roughness, bouncing Simon around in the back seat to disorient him completely, ensuring he had no sense of how close they truly were to his own front door. Beside David, Miriam's hand was busy, her fingers tracing the length of his huge erection through his trousers. She was already anticipating her reward for a successful night: feeling that thick cock buried deep inside her once Simon was secured in his bed.

In the back, Chloe cradled Simon's head on her lap, her fingers stroking the smooth, impersonal surface of the rubber hood. He tried to form words, but the gag turned his pleas into pathetic, wet gurgles. She felt a damp spot forming on her jeans where his drool leaked from the gag, and she made a silent promise to punish him for the mess later. The plan, so far, was flawless. The next few days would be the most critical.

They had all their pieces on the board. The powerful clients they had cultivated were now their pawns. Doctors, solicitors, accountants, and a couple of judges—both male and female—were all part of their network. Each would be essential to the final phase of her plan. As insurance, she had exclusive recordings of each of them, ready to be used if any needed a little extra persuasion to play their part.

David pulled into Love Lane, the little lane just off St. Margaret's Street that gave them access to the back of Simon's home. The wooden gate creaked as he pushed it open. He drove the Mini as close to the back door as possible, helped them get Simon out of the car, and led them into the kitchen. He then left them to attend to Simon, taking the Mini away to park it out of sight.

Miriam and Chloe sat Simon down on a hard kitchen chair. He groaned as they removed the gag, his jaw aching as he drew huge, desperate gulps of air. He fidgeted, his sore backside protesting the hard surface. His hair was soaked with sweat, and his face was streaked with tears when they finally pulled the hood off.

Simon held out his cuffed hands. "Get these off me," he cried, his voice hoarse.

Miriam put her hands on his, her touch a mockery of comfort. "We can't right now, Simon. We left in such a hurry that we didn't even think about keys for the handcuffs or that collar."

His hands flew to his neck, fingers probing the cold, unyielding band of metal clamped around it. A fresh wave of panic washed over him.

"Please, Mom, can't we get someone to cut them off or something?" he pleaded, his voice cracking with desperation.

"Calm down, now, Simon. You have another problem, down between your legs."

Simon looked down. The black cage that held his cock looked massive to him, a cruel metal contraption that felt like it weighed a ton. He gasped as a fresh wave of humiliation washed over him.

"Stand up and let me have a look at it." Chloe helped him stand, leaning in close and holding his shoulders, stroking them gently. Miriam crouched down in front of him, her face level with his groin. She took the cage in her hand and gave it a couple of experimental tugs. Her other hand took hold of his balls and gently squeezed, a possessive, knowing touch. She gently blew into the hole at the end of the cage and was pleased to see his cock grow, pressing painfully against the metal bars and causing Simon to groan again.

She stood and looked him in the eye, savoring his discomfort almost as much as his pain. "I have no idea how to remove that," she lied smoothly. "I can't see any lock. I'll have to do some research."

He let out a heavy, shuddering sob, and Chloe had to bite her lip to keep from laughing.

"Look, it's getting late," Miriam told him in a practical tone. "Let's put something on your back and get you to bed. Tomorrow we'll look at the problem with fresh eyes. Come on, up to bed with you." She took his cuffed hands and led him to his room. 

Miriam left Chloe to prepare Micheal for her soothing attention, while she gathered some cream and a couple of special pills.  

Once Miriam had left, Chloe hugged Simon around the neck, her lips brushing against the cold metal of the collar. "I'm so sorry," she whispered into his ear, her voice a perfect imitation of remorse. "I'm sorry we couldn't get to you sooner." She pushed her breasts firmly against his chest and parted her legs around his hips, grinding against him slightly. She smiled as she heard him groan, his cock swelling and pressing painfully against the unyielding bars of the cage.

"Let's get you comfy," she murmured. She maneuvered him onto his bed, arranging his body with deliberate care. She had him lie across it so his head and shoulders hung over one edge and his ankles dangled over the other, leaving him completely exposed and vulnerable. She stepped back for a moment to admire her handiwork. His back was a mess of angry red lines, many with blood just beneath the surface. She was sure some of them would be permanent, a beautiful, lasting testament to her artistry.

Chloe stepped outside when she heard Miriam coming up the stairs. She gave her mother a big hug, and they kissed, a lingering, intimate press of lips. "Mum, I'm so fucking horny," Chloe whispered.

"Shhh, I know," Miriam murmured, her hand stroking Chloe's back. "Let's just get the little wanker settled for the night. Then David will be back, and we can both have a good time. Now stop being a little slut and help me with him."

They both went into David's room, where Simon lay. Miriam sat beside him on the bed and handed Chloe a pill for Simon. "Here, Simon, take this," she said softly. She held out a small yellow pill, and he dutifully put it in his mouth. Chloe handed him a bottle of water with a straw.

"Good boy," she told him, rubbing his head like a dog.

He cried out as Miriam applied cream to his back and rubbed it in, pressing harder than necessary, savoring the way he flinched. "I know, I know it hurts, my love, but it will help them heal." The initial shock gave way to a forced sense of comfort as Miriam continued to massage his ruined back.

Chloe looked at her mum and smiled before crouching down so her face was close to Simon's. "It's going to be fine," she took his head in her hands and kissed his lips, seemingly not caring that their mother was in the room. He groaned against her lips as Miriam's hand slipped between his legs and massaged his balls, her touch a proprietary claim. His cock became painful in its cage, and he started moving restlessly, but then became very tired as the pill took effect.

His body went limp. Chloe stood, grabbed his hair, and dropped his head back onto the bed. "He's out," she said simply to Miriam.

Chloe left the room while Miriam called David to tell him the coast was clear. Chloe returned a moment later with a coil of thin white rope. Working together in practiced silence, Miriam tied Simon's ankles, then passed the end of the rope under the bed to Chloe. Chloe fed the rope through the ring in Simon's collar, then looped it around his cuffed hands. She pulled it tight, forcing his hands up against the collar in a restrictive hogtie. Finally, she took the remaining length of rope and tied it off securely to the bed's heavy leg.

They knew Simon might be able to escape the knots when he woke, but they were relying on the psychological impact. They wanted him to wake up helpless and disoriented after a night of drugged sleep, the memory of his captivity fresh and terrifying.