A SHOT IN THE PARK
He knew he shouldn't have been there. He knew he shouldn't have been doing what he was doing at all. But he needed the money. Or so he told himself. There was more to it than that, but he refused to think about it. So he stood there, or walked a little ways, and then stood again. Posing. He looked good, he knew, in his crackerjacks, the tight bell bottoms, the snug tunic, the white hat. His dark hair was cropped short, and the little mustache above his lips was carefully barbered.
When the sleek car drove down the street, and then slowed as it came abreast of him, he wasn't surprised. He had already gotten two offers and refused them both. If he was here for the money, he shouldn't have refused them. He let that thought form and then pushed it away. He wasn't going to think about that. The sleek car slowed and then it stopped, and the driver leaned over toward the passenger side window as it slid down. In the light of the streetlamp, he could make out that the driver was an older man, but not real old, in his forties, maybe as much as fifty, and handsome, with gray hair and a gray beard, and well-dressed, in a nice suit. He took a step or two nearer the car, casually, as if he weren't really doing so, but getting closer just the same.
"Need a lift, sailor?" The man's voice was deep, pleasant, cultivated.
"Maybe," he said.
The man nodded. "Why don't you get in?"
He looked at the man for a moment. Should he refuse? He didn't want to, this time. The guy was handsome. It would be all right, wouldn't it?
He walked over to the car and got in. As he shut the door, the man drove off, not hastily, but slowly, as if he were giving them both time to have second thoughts. He did, if the man didn't, but he stayed where he was. He noticed that the man's suit looked expensive. He wore a silk handkerchief in a puff in his chest pocket. He liked it when a man did that. He didn't know why, but he did. It made the guy look better dressed, somehow.
"What's your name, son?"
Well, that was harmless enough, wasn't it?
"Don."
"Well, Don, mine's Jeff."
"Pleased to meet you." It sounded funny, in this car, being here for what he was here for. He was, wasn't he? But up-bringing told.
The man smiled. He had a nice smile. "I'm pleased to meet you, Don."
He paused, and then went on. "That's a nice uniform you have." Don looked down at himself. He thought so, too. It was a nice uniform, and it looked good on him, too. As if reading that thought, the man said, "Looks nice on you, Don."
"Thanks." Dumb, again, but up-bringing. He was a nice guy, what was he doing here? But he stayed.
"We both think so, Don."
He nearly jumped out of his skin. The new voice came from the back seat, and he realized that there wasn't just one guy in the car, the handsome driver, but two. He twisted around and stared. The other man was sitting in the back seat behind the driver. He guessed that's why he hadn't noticed him. He was younger, he thought, maybe late thirties. He was handsome, too. Not blond, exactly, but light, with blue eyes, and a mustache rather than a beard. He was dressed in a suit, too. He noticed that he also had a silk handkerchief in his chest pocket. It was even more prominently displayed than the one in the pocket of the guy who was driving. The man smiled and leaned forward, his hand extended.
"I'm Jack, Don."
He shook the second man's hand. "Pleased to meet you." Was he? He wasn't sure. He hadn't thought about two. But the guy was good-looking. Maybe it would be all right. He'd wait.
As he was trying to decide what he thought about this, the car pulled up and stopped. He looked out the window. They were beside a park somewhere, a city park, with grass and bushes, and trees. It was dark, no lamps. On the other side of the street was the back of some big brick building, a warehouse or something, not really tall, but tall enough. On the other sides of the park, he could see rows of houses, some dark, some with one or two lighted windows. It was late, almost midnight, he thought. Not many people were up.
He turned to the driver. "Here?" he said. He wasn't sure, yet, what was going to be asked of him. Would they both want to, well, whatever it was that would earn him the money? or what? Then he felt something cold, cold and very hand, press against the side of his neck. He jerked away, but there was a hand on the opposite side of his neck, on his shoulder, and it pulled him back.
"Just sit still for a moment, Don," the man in the back seat said quietly. He said it in a very normal voice. "Just sit still." Don sat still. The barrel of the gun against his neck was cold.
"OK, Don," the driver said, and he said it in a normal voice, too. "I want you to empty your pockets. Just put your things here on the seat beside you."
He didn't move. He still didn't understand what was happening, He knew the man in the back seat, the younger one, was holding a gun to his neck, but he didn't know why. He didn't get it. They were robbing him? But why? They had this car. They had those expensive suits. He was just a sailor.
"Don," the driver said. His voice was friendly. He sounded patient, patient and kind. He suddenly reminded him of his seventh grade science teacher. Not the way he looked, just he way he talked, patient and kind. "Don," the man said, "just do what we ask."
He didn't understand, but he did what the man asked. He emptied his pockets on the seat. There wasn't much. His wallet, thin, with just his driver's license and thirty-three dollars in it, a twenty, two fives, three ones. Seventy-eight cents in change. His keys, all three of them, on a metal ring. His white pocket handkerchief, clean, neatly folded. While he emptied his pockets, the driver reached inside his coat and took out a short length of rope, maybe four, five feet long.
When his pockets were empty, the man in the back seat did something. He didn't understand at first, but suddenly the cold metal of the barrel was on the right side of his neck, not the left. He realized that the man must have shifted hands. He was holding the gun in his right hand now.
"I want you to turn around, Don, with your back toward me, and put your hands behind you."
They were going to tie his hands, he realized. His heart started to beat faster. It had started doing that before, but now it was even faster. He felt his dick move. He was scared, but he felt his dick move. It always did, when some guy on TV got tied up and gagged. He didn't understand it, but it did, and he couldn't stop it. It was mixed up, somehow, with why he'd been on that street tonight. He hadn't wanted to think about it before, and he wouldn't think about it now. He turned his back to the driver and slowly put his hands behind him.
The man pulled his wrists together, and then he tied his wrists with the rope. He wound it tight, and pulled it tighter, so that Don grunted softly, and then he knotted it off hard.
"OK, Don," the man said. His voice was still normal, friendly. "Sit back now."
He sat back as well as he could, with his hands tied like that behind him. The driver was closer to him now, almost touching him. He saw that his wallet and change and keys were on the dashboard now. His handkerchief was in the man's lap. The man reached out and started to untie the silk neckerchief he wore as part of his uniform. He's going to gag me, he thought. That's what they always do, isn't it? They tie the guy up and they gag him. And they're going to gag me. His dick stirred more, it got hard, and it started to stretch down his pants leg, but he tried to ignore it.
The man got the knot in the silk scarf undone, and he pulled it slowly from under his collar. He thought the man would tie it through his mouth now, push the center between his lips and tie the long ends behind his head, to gag him. But he didn't. Instead, he started to unroll the scarf. It was a big scarf, almost a yard square, when he had it unrolled. He had forgotten how big it was, because he always kept it rolled and ready to tie around his collar. The man started wadding the big scarf up into a ball, taking his time about it, folding the corners in toward the center, doing that several times, until he had a big spongy wad of black silk. Is he going to put that in my mouth, he wondered? It's huge. I can't take that. But it seemed the man was going to do just that.
"Open your mouth, Don, open it up real wide." The man spoke in the same normal, friendly voice.
"Are you going to gag me with my neckerchief, with that?" He couldn't help himself. He had to ask.
The man nodded. "That's right, Don, I'm going to gag you with your neckerchief, and with your own handkerchief. Now, open your mouth."
Don did as he was told. The man came close to him, very close. He could feel the man's breath, warm, smelling of something minty. The man stuffed the huge wad of silk into his mouth, He didn't think he could take it. He felt like he was choking, at first. But the man insisted, and he was tied, and the cold gun was still against the side of his neck. He let the man shove the huge ball of his silk neckerchief all the way into his mouth. He didn't choke. He could take it, after all, he found. His dick was hard now, very hard. He couldn't help that. He tried not to think about why his dick was hard. The wad of the scarf was huge. It filled his mouth from far back towards his throat all the way to his lips. It pressed his tongue down so that he couldn't move it.
The driver smiled at him. Then he took the handkerchief from his lap. He shook it open. It was a good-sized handkerchief. The man held it by opposite corners, and then he twirled it, to roll it. Then he had a longish roll of soft white cloth stretched between his hands. He came close again. He pressed the center of the handkerchief between Don's lips, against the big wad of silk. He pressed hard, and then he wrapped the ends of the handkerchief around Don's head. He crossed them behind his head, and pulled hard on them, and then he tied them in a tight knot. Now Don had his big silk scarf stuffed in his mouth and his own pocket handkerchief tied around his head to hold it there. This is what it's like to be gagged, he thought. I'm gagged. Like the guys on TV and in the movies. He swallowed, feeling how big the wad of thick silk was in his mouth. The handkerchief around his head was tight. He could feel the knot digging into his neck behind his head.
"Mmmmmmph." He tried to say something. The big ball of cloth in his mouth made that impossible. All he could do was grunt, and his grunt had no meaning. "Mmmmmph!" He tried to shout, but all he could do was make a slightly louder grunt. He was gagged, he thought, and that's what it meant to be gagged. He had this big wad of cloth in his mouth, tied there with his own handkerchief, and he couldn't talk and he couldn't shout. His dick was harder than ever. He was twenty eight years old, and he was sitting in a strange man's car, near a park he had never heard of, with another strange man in the back seat who had been holding a gun to his neck, and his hands were tied and his mouth was gagged and his dick was harder than he had ever known it to be.
The driver took him by his shoulders and pulled him forward. The other man wasn't holding the gun to his neck any more. He didn't need to, now. He was tied. He was gagged. But they weren't through. The man in the back seat had more rope. He had it in a big loop, and he put the loop around Don's shoulders and down around his arms and chest. He pulled it tight and then he looped it again and pulled it tight again. He did that several times, and then he tied it off in a hard knot. The driver had more rope, too. He used it to tie Don's feet together at the ankles. And then he sat back in his seat, and the other man hung over the front seat, and they both looked at him. He sat there, tied and gagged. There wasn't anything else he could do, except try to yell.
"Mmmmmph. Mmmmmmmph. Mmmmmmmmmmph." It was no good, of course, He couldn't yell, not with the gag in his mouth. It was a good gag, he thought. His mouth was really stuffed with his big black silk scarf. And his handkerchief was tied really tight and held the gag in place. He couldn't get it out.
He wasn't sure if he was surprised when the driver took out his own handkerchief. He shook it open, and then he unzipped the fly of his expensive suit. He reached in and took out his dick. It was rather long, and fairly thick, and it was hard. He wrapped his handkerchief around his cock and began to stroke it. He sat there, stroking his cock. While he did, he looked at Don. Don sat there, tied and gagged, and he watched the man jack himself off. He realized suddenly that this was the point of it all. The men had tied him up and gagged him so that they could look at him while they jacked off. Seeing him sitting there, tied up with the ropes and gagged with his own neckerchief and his own handkerchief, turned the guys on.
The driver began to moan, softly at first, and then more loudly. When he started to moan loudly, the man in the back seat reached forward. He had a wadded bandanna in his hand and he stuffed it into the driver's mouth. The gag muffled the man's groans as he came, violently and quickly, into his handkerchief. He sat there, panting around the gag, his chest heaving. Then he slowly wrapped his cock in his handkerchief. He tucked his cock back into his pants and zipped up his fly. He reached up and took the gag out of his mouth.
"Your turn, Jack."
The driver reached over and pulled at him. After a moment, he realized what he wanted, and he let himself be turned. Now he was sitting with his back to the car door. He was facing into the car. The guy in the back seat was leaning towards him. He had his cock in a handkerchief. He was already gagged. Don thought he must have gagged himself. He had a big wad of a bandanna stuffed in his mouth. Another bandanna was tied around his head to hold the gag in, just the way his pocket handkerchief was tied around his head to hold his scarf in his mouth. The man in the back seat was jacking himself off hard. He was making whimpering noises that were muffled by the gag in his mouth. He was staring very hard at Don where he sat tied and gagged. Suddenly his eyes snapped shut, and he shouted into the gag, and jerked. He fell back into the seat, and he sat there, panting through the gag.
The driver looked back at the other man and then he looked at Don. He winked.
"OK, Don," he said. "Now I'm going to untie your legs." He did that, and then he reached up and untied the rope around his arms and chest.
"Now, before I untie your hands, Don . . ." He picked up Don's keys and he tucked them into Don's pocket. Then he took up his change and did the same thing. Then he took up Don's wallet. He reached inside his coat, and he took out some money. He held it in front of Don and showed it to him. There were ten twenties. Two hundred dollars. He put them into the wallet. Then he reached into his coat and brought out one more twenty. He showed that to Don.
"For the taxi," he said. He put that in the wallet, and he tucked the wallet into Don's front pocket. Then he pointed down the street. "See that light?" Don looked where the man pointed, and then he looked back. He nodded. He grunted into his gag.
"Umm ummmph."
The man nodded back. "There's a phone there. You can call from there. You have change, right?"
Don nodded again.
"It's a safe neighborhood, Don. You'll be OK."
The driver reached over and opened the door beside Don. Quickly then, the first time he had been quick, he turned Don around. He untied his hands and he pushed him out the door. Instantly, he started the car. Don was just getting his balance. He turned to watch as the car sped off. There was no license on the car. He hadn't noticed that before. The car was already down at the end of the block. It turned the corner. It was gone.
He stood there for a moment. He was still gagged. He reached up to the knot behind his head, the knot in his handkerchief. Then he stopped. His dick was still hard. It hurt and it ached. He looked around. There was no one there. He looked into the park. There was no one there, either. In the distance, there were only a few lights on in the houses now. He walked slowly over the sidewalk and into the park. He started to walk faster. He went inside a clump of bushes under two tall trees. He reached down and unbuttoned the flap of his pants. He pulled down his briefs. His cock popped out, hard, a bead of precum at its tip. He took it in his hands and stroked it. It only took a few strokes. His cum spurted up and out to land in the dirt under the trees. He threw back his head and shouted into the gag.
"Mmmmmmmmmmmph!!" He was remembering how it felt to be tied as well as gagged. He had never come so hard in his life. He suddenly wished he could be tied up again, and gagged again, and have some handsome man want to come while looking at him like that. His dick got half hard again just thinking like that. He thought more and it got hard again. He stroked himself off again, more slowly this time. He was remembering everything that had just happened. When they first took him prisoner, When they tied his hands. When they gagged him with his own scarf and his own handkerchief. When they tied his arms and his legs. When they jacked themselves off looking at him sitting there tied up and gagged. He came again, shouting again into the gag.
"MMMMMMMMMPH!!!" He had never felt so turned on. He wanted to do it again, but his dick was sore now. He put it back into his briefs, reluctantly. He buttoned up his trousers. He reached up and untied the knot in his handkerchief. He shook the handkerchief open. He folded it slowly and then put it neatly in his back pocket. He reached up and took his scarf out of his mouth. It was wet from his mouth. He shook it open. He wondered what to do. Then he decided just to roll it and tie it on. It was black silk, after all. No one would notice. He rolled it and tied it. He thought that maybe later he would use it to gag himself again. The man in the back seat had gagged himself. It wouldn't be as good as being gagged by the driver. He liked the idea of being gagged by a handsome older man a lot. But it would have to do. Until there was a next time. He was sure there would be a next time. He reached into his pocket for his change and started walking toward the phone.
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