Hard Turn Left (Patreon)

 It was time.

I was nervous, perhaps scared even, but so fucking excited. I’d been excited ever since XXLord proposed we’d meet up in person. What he suggested ticked all my boxes. I would be locked, but in a disguised way, and then meet him at the city mall. There we would go to one of the shops, perhaps the skate store, perhaps the sports goods, force me to try different things, and then buy something for me to wear. Only then would he unlock me. His handcuffs arrived in the mail a few days later, without the keys.

I went through the checklist again, to make sure I had everything lined up in front of me. Once locked there was no going back. No underwear, just the black slimfit sweatpants. He wanted me to look normal but feel vulnerable. White socks, over the sweatpants, and black shoes. The white stood out a mile a way as a beacon of fashion crime. I was starting to firm up, and realized it showed pretty well through the sweatpants. That just made it even hotter.

Then the kinky stuff. I put an ankle sock in my mouth, regular ones were too big, and taped my mouth shut with a long strip of wide duct tape. He hadn’t specified this, but I used a sock from yesterday’s practice. I tried to find a way for my tongue to my lips, but with the sock in there it was impossible. I would have to use my hands to get out of it.

Then I put on the bandana-tube-scarf-thing around my neck, the only purchase I made specifically for this, and pulled it up over my nose. I looked totally different than old introvert me. I looked like a hooligan.

Only a few things left. I put on the black hoodie and had a look in the mirror. I almost came there and then. It was scary how well he knew what would turn me on. I put on the black cap, put the hood up and adjust the draw strings. Then I bind my hands with the boxing wraps I bought years ago for my brief attempt at MMA. I still remember how to do it though. Hook the thumb, three times around the wrist, three times across the hand, cross loops between each finger. What I do different is to thread the wrap between the front of the fingers and then around them, before I secure it with the velcro at the end. This makes the hands almost as useless as if wearing mittens. Lastly I put on the back pack and had a final look. Oh, fuck that was hot.

Now for the point of no return. I had already zip tied the handcuffs in place inside the front pocket by looping the zip tie through the chain and holes I’ve made in the fabric. If you struggle hard you can get your hands out of the pocket, but it’s not happening by accident. I have both a bolt cutter and an angle grinder, so I’m getting out of the cuffs one way or the other, but it was kind of arousing to imagine giving yourself up.

I put my bound hands into the pocket and lock my hands in place. It was trickier than anticipated.

I’ve long had a spare key hidden under one of the stones by the flowers. It was still there yesterday when I checked, so I’m leaving without a key. No key, no wallet, no phone. I can’t really grip anything anyway.

No watch either, though I normally don’t wear one. Given the time when I left, and what it normally takes me to walk to the mall, I was pretty confident I would arrive just perfect, 5-10 minutes early.

There were several layers of deception going on. I could see how people reacted. A little bit unease, a little bit disdain, as they passed me by. Instead of the normal me they would see this dangerous looking, hooded male. Yet at the same time they would completely miss the gagged, locked, helpless boy beneath that. I was so exited and ready.

As I was getting close, the streets started to crowd, and I could hear noises in the distance. Some sort of parade probably. I can’t keep track of every celebration for every minority. I turn the corner and is met with a wall of people.

- Hey, you there!

Two police officers spotted me immediately and were quickly moving my way.

- No deviations. Follow the route.

One of them grabs my arm and firmly starts shoving me through the crowd. I have no idea what he is talking about. I want to tell him I’m not part of the parade, but obviously can’t. Since he isn’t hostile I don’t try to fight him. His partner is clearing in front of us and opens the police barricade. It doesn’t take many seconds until I’m part of a sea of people, all walking the same direction. All of them wearing black, most covering their faces. The one marching next to me shouts “No border, no wall, no USA at all!” over and over.

Fuuuck.

As we went further and further away from the mall, I wondered if this had been his plan all along, and if so, if this is the end of it or if there is more to come.

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