Trust Us

Trust Us 2 T R U S T U S B O T H

Supple leather clung to his body as he pulled up his zipper effectively sealing himself in to his thick shiny black leather jacket. As Rick reached for his identically colored black leather gloves, he shouted, "Ryan, get a move on! Let's go!"

Across the living room, sunken deep in to a black leather couch sat Ryan. He perked his eyes up from underneath a book and sighed, "Yeah, yeah, just a second."

As Rick slid his hands inside his thick leather gloves, he grew impatient with his little brother. "Now, I said!" he barked as he marched over to Ryan, clamped one of his leather covered gloved hands around Ryan's small wrist, and easily picked up Ryan's thin framed body from out of the couch. "Visiting hours are gonna be over soon. We gotta go you little twerp," Rick ordered.

It had been two weeks this Friday since Ryan last saw Mark right before psychology class. He had heard through the grapevine that Mark had become seriously ill and was admitted in to a hospital – a mental hospital to be exact. Ryan had been a good friend to Mark, but trekking off to a mental hospital deep in the woods off a lonely highway was not his idea of a good time. To complicate matters, Ryan was uneasy about the possibility that the leather fetish Mark constantly spoke of could have something to do with Mark's current mental state. It was true that Ryan enjoyed the site of a hot man as much as Mark did, and sure, seeing one of the hot guys sporting a thick shiny leather jacket added to the guy's hotness; but his appeal to leather never came to the point of a fetish like it did for Mark. The whole issue made Ryan uneasy and the fact that Mark was located in a health facility that was more like a jail than an actual hospital further complicated Ryan's resistance to visiting Mark. He'd been able to successfully stay clear of the Calm Crescent Mental Hospital until his parents decided to make his older brother, Rick take him there. They had both said he had better go – at least once. After all, they were friends and Mark was always such a nice guy.

Once Rick had dragged Ryan to the front door, he finally released his tight grip on him. As Ryan was rubbing his now very sore wrist, Rick pushed Ryan's small brown leather jacket hard against Ryan's chest causing Ryan's body to fall back against the entry way wall. "We're going to be late. Get this on fast and maybe I'll ease up on you little bro," Rick asserted as he extended his leather gloved hand straight out and patronizingly patted it on the side of Ryan's boyishly innocent face. Ryan slowly struggled to stuff his arms into his brown leather jacket. He made an effort to try to pick up the pace but his attitude toward the whole journey caused him to remain somewhat sluggish. Once he zipped himself up, Rick swatted a pair of brown leather gloves up against Ryan's leather covered chest while adding: "It's damn cold outside." As Ryan struggled to get the gloves over his hands, Rick was already grabbing at Ryan's leather covered shoulders and shoving him out the door towards his four-door Jeep Cherokee.

Rick's jeep was not unlike the one that Joey and Brian had used to transport Mark to Calm Crescent just two weeks earlier. The windows were tinted and the seats were hugged with thick leather; however, Rick's jeep had a red, not a black exterior and the supple leather inside was grey, not black.

Having successfully wedged his hands into his brown leather gloves, Ryan finally was managing to get up to speed with his older brother. The crisp coldness of the winter air propelled Ryan to the passenger side door. Before he could open it, Rick tightened his grip on Ryan's body and pulled him back in to his leather-covered chest. Even through the thicknesses of their leather jackets, Ryan could feel his older brother's chest muscles press firmly against his back. "Oh hell no little bro," jested Rick as he opened up the back door, slid the child protection lever to the active position, and proceeded to guide Ryan up on to the grey leather seat. "I'm making sure you don't try to get out of this one! A few more favors for the `rents like this and Dad says I may get that Motorcycle for Xmas," Rick explained as he slammed Ryan's door shut. Ryan immediately tried to open his door but the child protection lock kept the door sealed shut. Rick was now on the driver's side of the car and surprisingly opened the back door across from Ryan. Rick activated the door's child protection device while adding, "Now strap your seat belt on and be a good little boy, bro!" Rick slammed the door and finally got in to the diver's side, started the vehicle, and proceeded down the road towards the back highway. Ryan was used to his brother's cocky attitude so he simply sat tight somewhat glad to be out of the cold air.

Ryan let out a sigh of relief. He was pretty much in his brother's control and oddly enough it was making the whole journey easier to bear. He didn't really have to do anything; his brother was practically doing everything for him. As the time on the way to Calm Crescent passed, Ryan's mind wandered off. He imagined what it would be like to see Mark. Mark would probably be all sick and pasty, laying in some stingy room with an IV up his arm, and not being able to comprehend that Ryan was even there. Rick turned off the main highway on to a dirt road. Ryan continued his daze of what would happen: Rick would nod acceptance that Ryan had finally fulfilled his parents' obligation to see Mark. Then they would both get the hell of out there. It didn't seem like visiting hours would last long, especially now that they were late. Ryan would be able to put the whole thing behind him and get back to his book.

Coming out of his daze, Ryan noticed that the woods were now extremely thick and the road was becoming increasingly windy. Ryan wondered how his brother was even going to find the place. Just when he thought they'd end up turning around, they entered a clearing that revealed a steeply sloped hill.

On the top there stood a large solid concrete building with very few windows. The small amount of windows the building did have were either thickly glazed small glass block or completely covered with heavy steel black bars. A large tall and thick perimeter fence with mounted security cameras surrounded the entire building. Ryan had been right about the place being more like a jail than anything else. Dang, it was Ryan's worst nightmare. He suddenly felt the pit of his stomach.

"You better be good little bro or I'll leave you here. Ha. Ha," taunted Rick.

"Oh shit," thought Ryan, who was now thinking he should have tried to come alone instead of having to deal with Rick's ego.

Rick slowly drove the jeep up to the main gate and halted. Unlike the side "admittance" gate that Mark had been taken through, this main gate was equipped with a small hut that contained two security guards, who were dressed in black cop-like uniforms complete with thick black leather gloves.

One of the guards came up and leaned his arms inside of Rick's window. The guard's thick leather gloves were just inches away from Rick's black leather jacket. "Can I help you?" the guard sternly inquired.

Rick responded, "You sure can bro. How do I go about getting my little brother a room in this place?" The guard laughed, intuitively picked up on Ryan's uneasiness, and eyed Ryan with an authoritative smirk on his face.

The security guard seemed to want to continue "playing around," appeared to be wrestling with his own thoughts, and then finally became serious and demanded, "Now are you boys going to tell me what it is that you are up to or am I going to have to take action for disturbing an officer?"

Rick gulped before responding, "Sorry Sir. We are just here to see a friend."

The beefy security officer, reveling in Rick's display of submission, shifted his stance in a straddling like fashion and announced, "Visiting hours were over fifteen minutes ago. Try back next week."

Rick, not able to hold it in, swore. "Ah fuck."

The security guard, totally unthreatened by Rick's outburst, slowly pushed his leather covered gloved hand against Rick's leather covered chest and soothingly said, "Easy bro, easy, we don't want any trouble."

Rick passively whined, "Ah, oh man, I'm sorry. It's just that this was important."

"Just move along home now buddy. Take it easy," the guard soothingly added before patting the car window's sill with his hand in a sign of dismissal. Rick put the car in gear and slowly veered away from the closed entrance gate.

Ryan could not have been more relieved. They were going home. He didn't even let the possibility of having to return next week get him down. His parents might be satisfied with tonight's attempt and not push them to have to come again.

Just as Ryan thought Rick was finally going to pick up enough speed to realistically put the hospital behind them, Rick suddenly veered off to the side of the road and stopped. "What are you doing?" Ryan uneasily questioned.

"Shut up little bro. This ain't over yet," barked Rick as he struggled to push his leather covered gloved hand into his thick leather jacket's side pocket. The leather of his glove and his jacket squeaked together as he pulled out his cell phone. Within moments Ryan heard him say, "What's up Joey? Hey, I am here, but the guard's not letting us in. He says visiting hours are over. ... I know, I know, but that's a week away. ... Listen, my bro really wants to see his friend, is there anything you could do? ... ... You are the best man, I owe you one."

"Well you are in luck little bro!" taunted Rick. "One of my friends, who works here, is pulling some strings just for you! You better appreciate what I'm doing for you." Ryan sunk his head down in defeat.

Within a few minutes, both security guards came out of the hut and waved them back over to a visitor parking space next to the gate. Rick smiled with glee shouting, "Yeah! That's more like it!" After parking the jeep, the same security guard once again planted himself and his leather gloves on the sill of Rick's window.

"Looks like you have a friend in high places buddy," smiled the security guard. Rick smiled like it was Christmas. The guard continued, "For tonight, you may be able to bypass our regulations regarding visiting hours, but that doesn't mean we won't be doing everything else by the book."

"Yes Sir," answered Rick, who still could not be happier.

"We are going to have to search you and your vehicle. If everything checks out okay, we'll be able to escort you up to the main grounds where you can see your friend," explained the guard. Rick agreed to the procedure as the second security guard joined the first near Rick's door. They told Rick to step out of the vehicle announcing that they'd each search one of them: the first guard would take Rick inside and the second would search Ryan and the vehicle together. The first guard opened up Rick's door and helped guide his body up off the leather seat. Taking firm hold of Rick's leather jacket-covered body, the guard swiftly guided Rick to a small room inside the hut.

Inside, a small table stood in the center, an oversized black leather chair sat in the corner, and up against the back wall hung a short metal rod about seven feet from the floor. The guard took out a plastic bag and told Rick to stand face against the wall near the metal rod. The guard explained that he would have to search Rick in order to confiscate all personal items like car keys, wallet, pocket knife, or anything else he found in order to protect staff and visitors against patients who might use the items as weapons. He said a majority of the patients were a danger to others as well as themselves and that the security of the institution was of the utmost importance. Rick did not really care about all the formalities. He was willing to do whatever it took to please his parents and get that motorcycle. "Remove your jacket, your gloves, and your shoes," requested the guard. Rick did as he was told and couldn't help but feel a loss of man-hood as he pealed off his leather jacket, leather gloves, and his leather motorcycle boots that he had purchased as a precursor to the bike he hoped to be getting. The guard took each item from Rick and extensively searched each one before laying them on to the table. He had found Rick's cell phone and some loose paper inside of his jacket. The guard placed these items into the plastic bag.

Next, the guard took his ring of keys from his security guard belt and proceeded to unlock a drawer in the desk and pull out a bundle of black leather. When Rick got a glance of what the guard was holding, he wasn't able to recognize it as anything he had ever seen before. It looked like three thick leather belts. A large belt with two smaller belts attached to its side. "Place your hands on the back of your head and bow your head slightly forward. I'm going to have to slightly restrain you in order to continue the search," the guard asserted. Rick felt a little uneasy about the situation. He was definitely not one to like being restrained. Hell, he couldn't remember a time when he had ever been restrained. Still, he felt a certain amount of trust with the security guard. He had thought of himself as being on the same level as the guard especially since the guard seemed to have shared – at least initially- in his taunting of Ryan when they first pulled up to the gate.

Thinking of a new motorcycle and wondering "How bad could it be?" Rick cupped his hands on to the back of his head and slightly bent his waist forward causing his head to bow down.

"That's it bud. Keep cooperating and this will all be over in no time," affirmed the guard as he moved the leather belt device up to Rick's head. The guard pulled the strap of the larger belt around Rick's neck. The guard gently tugged the end of the strap in to the buckle behind causing the entirety of the leather strap to press against the circumference of Rick's muscular neck. The coldness of the leather sent shivers up Rick's spine. Sensing Rick's recoil, the guard responded, "Easy buddy, easy." Next, Rick once again felt the coldness of leather as the guard wrapped his leather gloved hand around Rick's right wrist and expertly guided the wrist down to one of the smaller belts that extended on the right side of Rick's new collar. The guard looped this strap around Rick's wrist and tugged the strap tight before expertly buckling the strap. The guard repeated this process on Rick's left wrist causing Rick to now have both of his wrists strapped to his neck. Just when Rick was getting comfortable and accepting his new situation, the guard re-visited each strap to assertively tug out any signs of extra slack that remained. This time the tugs on the straps were forceful, not gentle. Rick couldn't keep his body from being pulled up towards the guard due to the excessive force the guard was using. Once the guard was satisfied that he had taken out every last bit of slack, he snapped in three locking devices over each buckle making it impossible for Rick to use his nearby fingers to undo any of the straps.

"You're doing real good buddy," commented the security guard, "You're lucky I only have to use this restraint on you. You should see some of the stuff the patients have to endure!" Not wanting to even imagine what the patients might be subjected to, Rick tried to focus on which chicks he'd have a better chance with once he got his bike. "Now bow your head down more and move slightly forward," requested the guard. The guard leaned in on Rick and grabbed on to a small metal device that Rick just now sensed was attached to the back of his leather collar. With the guard's other hand, the guard reached up and grabbed the end of the metal rod that was hanging from the wall and clipped Rick's collar to the rod of the wall, which effectively locked Rick in place.

The guard then positioned himself directly at Rick's backside and began padding Rick down with his leather gloved hands. He started at Rick's waist and gently prodded in to Rick's jean pockets pulling out Rick's chunky leather wallet, a pocketknife, and some loose change. The guard placed the items into the plastic bag. The guard then moved his hands upward along Rick's sides and padded down the area below Rick's pits as well as his chest and stomach. The guard then rested his gloved hands back along the sides of Rick's waist. The guard's leather covered fingers worked their way into the crevices of the ends of Rick's shirt and gently began pulling Rick's shirt upwards. Surprised, Rick flinched his upper torso as the guard replied, "Easy buddy, take it nice and easy." The guard continued moving Rick's shirt upwards until it reached the thick leather collar. The guard wedged the shirt in to the sides of the collar effectively causing the shirt to rest on Rick's shoulders. Rick's entire upper torso was naked and exposed. Satisfied that the shirt would stay up, the guard moved his gloved hands back down along Rick's chest. The guard rested his leather-covered fingertips directly onto Rick's nipples. Rick's entire body recoiled including a slight springing of his cock as his sensitive nipples dealt with the pressure and coldness of the thick leather gloves. Rick tried to shift his torso hoping to slide his nipples out from underneath the tips of the guard's leather gloves, but the guard simply pressed into his nipples more firmly, securing the leather gloves more firmly in place on top of Rick's sensitive nips. The relentlessness and pressure of the guard's leather gloves caused more blood to flow into Rick's cock causing it to further spring. After what seemed like an eternity, the guard finally released Rick's nipples and continued downward padding the rest of Rick's torso, his abs, his sides, and his lower stomach. Once the guard's hands returned to Rick's waist, they began prodding against Rick's belt. As the guard found the belt buckle, he began unfastening it and stated, "The only belts allowed in the institution are our restraints. We can't let anyone commit suicide. Your belt is a lawsuit for us waiting to happen." Once unbuckled, the guard swiftly tugged Rick's thick leather belt out from his jean's loops and rolled the belt up before placing it into the plastic bag. The guard once again returned his leather gloved hands to Rick's waist and began tugging at the seams of Rick's jeans. His hands moved over to the front of Rick's jeans and began inspecting the buttons and zipper that were holding Rick's jeans up. Rick almost didn't notice that the guard had begun undoing his buttons and gently sliding down his zipper. Once he had, he began to panic.

This was going too far he thought. Instinctively, Rick tried to move his hands down to his pants to block the guard from removing them. As the guard began to tug Rick's jeans down over his ass, Rick's hands were still at his neck. The thick leather of the belts would not yield to his desperate need to stay clothed. Once again Rick tugged his arms downward, which only caused his entire head to shift downwards as the thick leather collar held his belted wrists in place. The rod he was attached to on the wall, slightly shifted downwards before coming to a halt just a few inches below where Rick's head had originally been. It was no use. Rick could not get his hands down even a few inches, let alone the few feet it would take to be able to stop the guard's hands from removing his pants. And before Rick fully realized the extent of his restrained predicament, the guard had lowered his jeans to his ankles and had returned his leather-gloved hands once again to Rick's sides. As the guard began prodding at the crevices of Rick's white boxer/briefs, Rick finally managed to process speech: "Hey man, what gives?"

In a distanced tone, that suggested he really did not have to address Rick, the guard responded, "Hmmm we run a top notch security facility here and we can't allow some punk to sneak in a nail file just because we forgot to search his pants. Now relax or I'll have to gag you." Rick was now scared.

There was no way in hell he was going to allow this cock to gag him. That was gay – that was way too gay. To make matters worse, Rick's cock had not gone soft since the guard's icy leather gloves had touched his nipples. In fact, it had grown.

Doing exactly what Rick had hoped he would not do, the guard's left leather gloved hand found its way into Rick's boxer/briefs. The guard's hand gently approached the base of Rick's shaft. Rick's cock responded and actually gently rose up to make first contact with the leather of the gloved hand. The guard's hand responded to the contact of Rick's cock by firmly pressing in to it and then gently rubbing down along the shaft's entirety. The guard finally wrapped his thick-gloved hand around the entirety of Rick's cock completely encasing it with leather. Rick was beyond shock. He thought, "This could not be routine, could it? Yes, yes, it had to be routine. It had to be." Rick made himself believe that he had simply misjudged the level of security this place had. The guard must simply just be doing his job. Making sure no punk taped a pocket knife to his dick. It had to be routine because Rick would not be able to deal with it otherwise.

As Rick was trying to justify the situation, the guard continued to firmly clasp Rick's cock deep into his leather gloved left hand. The guard then moved his right hand, which was still on the outside of Rick's boxer/briefs, on to the front of Rick's package and gently began groping Rick's balls through the thin cotton. Rick squirmed, but the guard's gloved hand wrapped firmly around Rick's cock kept Rick's body steady. After probing and prodding Rick's balls through his briefs, the guard told Rick to spread his legs. Rick let out a slight whimper of regret before slowly widening his stance. As he did so, the guard moved his hand further down around Rick's balls and firmly groped the area between Rick's balls and thighs. The guard then took this hand and slid it past Rick's thin elastic band so that both of his leather-gloved hands were now inside of Rick's underwear. Still keeping his left hand firmly locked around Rick's cock, the guard placed his right hand back on to Rick's balls. His hand was on the exact same spot of Rick's ball sack that it had been before only this time there was no layer of cotton to protect Rick from the coldness of the guard's supple leather glove against his sensitive skin. Keeping four of his fingers still tightly wrapped around Rick's balls, the guard extended his index finger in to the crevice between the underside of Rick's balls and his shaft. The guard pushed gently in to the crevice, which placed pressure on to Rick's prostate causing his cock to enlarge to full mast. Responding to Rick's added girth, the guard gently used his left hand that was still wrapped around Rick's cock to slightly stoke his shaft. Just as Rick was starting to moan in regretted pleasure, the guard released Rick's shaft and slide his left hand along the side of Rick's body towards his ass. Applying extra pressure to the area below Rick's balls with his right hand, the guard pressed Rick's body backwards and began groping and inspecting the area between Rick's ass-cheeks with his left hand. Rick's crotch and ass were being sandwiched in between the guard's thick leather gloves making it extra hard to squirm against the guard's actions.

As the guard's fingers neared Rick's hole, Rick panicked and shouted, "What the fuck man!" To Rick's amazement and relief, the guard stopped. He removed his left hand from Rick's hole and his right hand from Rick's balls.

The guard took his gloved hands out of Rick's boxer/briefs and stepped away from Rick. Rick heard the guard using his keys as well as the sound of the desk drawer sliding open. The guard stepped back behind Rick as he slid something around Rick's head pressing it firmly against Rick's mouth. It was a gag. Rick panicked at the site of the large oversized black leather gag and began to struggle. He tried to use his hands, which were at his neck to try to push the gag away; but his finger tips stopped just short of the guard's thick leather gloves firmly holding the large leather strap of the gag.

"I told you that if you did not behave, I would have to gag you. You leave me no choice. Now open up," ordered the guard.

"FUCK YOU," shouted Rick, "I don't want a fag probing at my ass. I demand to be - " Before Rick could finish, the guard clamped Rick's nose shut with his thick leather covered index finger and thumb. Rick began to hold his breathe immediately, not wanting to open up his mouth to breathe since he knew that if he did, the gag would be going in. There was something about allowing a man to gag his mouth that Rick could not allow to happen. It was like the ultimate humiliation for him. At this point, Rick would have rather allowed the guard to probe his ass all he wanted instead of being forced to deal with a thick piece of leather in his mouth. Rick's body became more and more desperate for air. He kept saying to himself that he just needed to tough it out. Just a few more seconds and the guard would give up. "Just a few more..." he thought to himself. As air became more and more urgent, Rick began shaking his head back and forth trying to get the guard to ease up his grip on his nose, but the guard's leather fingers firmly held Rick's nostrils closed. Slowly Rick's body began forcing him to exhale. Rick was releasing air from his lungs and soon he would have to replenish it. "That's it buddy," the guard commented, "You're gonna need a nice deep breathe." A tear began to well up in Rick's right eye, as he couldn't take it any longer. His body was forcing him to give in. Slowly Rick was made to release the firm grip of his jaw. His lungs ached, his torso enlarged, and his mouth gasped wide open. His lungs began filling with air and the guard firmly pressed the oversized thick leather gag deep into Rick's mouth. Rick chocked. The gag halted the air intake he so desperately needed. The gag hit the back of his throat causing his tongue to reflexively push back on the gag. But his tongue muscle was no match for the pressure the guard was applying on the gag. Rick needed air. He finally found it through his nose as the guard released the grip on his nostrils and immediately began looping the strap of the gag through the rear buckle and then tugging out any extra slack. As Rick's mouth began filling up with salvia the guard clicked a locking mechanism shut at the back of the gag. Before Rick even began to fully negotiate the gag, figuring out how to deal with the extra salvia the gag was causing his mouth to produce, the guard's gloved hands were back on Rick's ball sack and in between his ass crack, right where he had left them prior to Rick's outburst. Rick finally figured out that he had to constantly suck on the leather gag in order to get the salvia down his throat so he wouldn't choke on it. This meant he was helping the gag stay in place by constantly sucking on it. Any attempts to push out the gag only made the salvia build up around his windpipe. It would cause him to choke and the gag couldn't be pushed out anyway. As Rick's tear found its way down his face, he began to submit to the gag. He had been broken. The gag was the straw that broke his back. He did not want it in him and here it was, deep inside. It was so humiliating that Rick's will simply shut down. He allowed the guard to probe his ass and gently stroke his cock. The guard pressed his leather-covered finger gently up to his ass crack and slowly pressed it inside of Rick. Rick had been penetrated for the very first time. And it was by a man. The guard gently wiggled his finger inside Rick's ass and then gently slid it back out. With one last stroke of Rick's cock, the guard finally removed his leather-covered gloves from Rick's underwear, pushed down Rick's shirt, and pulled up Rick's pants zipping them up and buttoning them into place. Even though Rick was once again fully clothed, he still felt completely naked.

Sensing his full sate of submission, the guard patted Rick on the ass and soothingly said, "Now that wasn't so bad now was it buddy? You've passed the inspection and I'm going to allow you onto the main grounds. Just sit tight, I'm going to check on your little bro." The guard left the small room and Rick could hear the sound of two deadbolts being locked shut. Rick, still suckling on the gag, broke down into tears.

While the first security guard had been searching Rick, the second guard had started inspecting Rick's vehicle. After the first security guard had guided Rick out of the front seat, the second guard leaned into the driver's side of the vehicle and began searching the seats completely ignoring Ryan, who was still trapped in the backseat. The guard's leather gloved hands creaked against the leather seats as he pressed his hands deep into the seat's crevices. He made a few passes underneath the seat before closing the door and walked over to the front passenger side to repeat the process. Once finished up front, he then opened the back hatch and inspected the spare tire as well as some built-in compartments. Ryan grew anxious knowing the guard would soon be entering the backseat and would eventually be searching him. But once the guard was finished with the back of the hatch, he shut the door and proceeded to walk into the hut. Moments later he returned with a thick black leather duffle bag. The guard opened the door across from Ryan and eyed the child protection latch built into the inside framing of the door. The guard smiled, looked up at Ryan and rhetorically asked, "Your bro uses the child protection on you?"

Ryan searched for words to use to respond but the guard, who – without deactivating the child protection lock – closed the side of the door before any words could come to Ryan. Soon the guard was at Ryan's door and upon opening it instructed, "Go ahead and slide back little buddy." As Ryan moved his body to the other side of the backseat, the guard climbed in. The weight of his body was much greater than Ryan's causing the supple grey leather seat to sink in. The guard deactivated the child protection lock on the door he just entered and closed it shut. Ryan was now trapped between a door that would not open and the security guard. "Well kiddo," the guard spoke, "I'm just going to need to do a quick search and have you give me anything that could be dangerous to take inside. We gotta make sure everyone stays safe, understand?" Ryan nodded. The guard opened up his leather duffle bag revealing a plastic bag exactly like the one the first guard was using with Rick. "Go ahead and empty out your pockets for me," the guard said. Ryan removed his wallet and a few candy wrappers but appeared to be unclear as to what to do with them. The guard smiled and moved his leather clad hand to take Ryan's wallet. As he did, his leather glove rubbed up against Ryan's delicate fingers. Ryan awkwardly placed the candy wrappers into a built in ash tray. "Okay now bud, I hate to have to do this, but it's routine. I'm going to have to place your hands in to restraint in order to complete the inspection process. It will all be quick and painless," informed the guard. Ryan wasn't exactly happy about what he was being made to endure all in the sake of friendship. He didn't think the visit would be all that beneficial to Mark anyway, but he nodded in agreement to the friendly guard. The guard reached into his leather duffle bag and pulled out a device that was exactly the same as the one the other guard was currently using on Rick: a thick leather collar with two wrist cuffs attached to its sides. Ryan began to quiver and regret having nodded in agreement to the procedure. "Bow your head," the guard ordered as he placed the collar portion around Ryan's neck and securely fastened it in the back. One by one, he placed Ryan's small wrists into the adjoining cuffs. The guard had to really tug at the straps in order to get the restraint to tightly encapsulate Ryan's small wrists. It took getting the very last notch of the leather strap into the buckle before Ryan's wrists were properly secured. Satisfied, the guard locked the collar and wrist cuffs and then wrapped the middle seat belt around Ryan's thin waist and firmly tugged it tight. His leather gloved hands gently rested on Ryan's waist and began to lift up Ryan's shirt. Once the shirt was resting on Ryan's shoulders, the guard began padding down Ryan's naked supple torso with this thick leather gloves. Next, the guard removed Ryan's shoes and inspected them. His leather gloved hands then returned to Ryan's waist and began tugging at Ryan's belt. The guard removed the buckle and slid the belt out from Ryan's jeans; he wrapped it up and placed it in the plastic bag. His hands once again returned to Ryan's waist, quickly unsnapped and unzipped Ryan's pants, and began wedging Ryan's jeans across his thighs. In a less friendly tone than before, the guard firmly said, "Raise up your hips." Ryan struggled to lift his body away from the supple leather seats. The guard was then able to wedge Ryan's jeans down to his ankles. The guard then placed his leather-covered hands on to Ryan's briefs, slightly groping at his thighs and subtly groping at his small soft package. Soon the guard's thick leather gloves were at Ryan's waistband and they began tugging his briefs down. Instinctively, Ryan once again lifted up his hips to allow the guard to get his briefs down. "Good boy," praised the guard. The guard slid the briefs to Ryan's knees and Ryan lowered his naked ass on to the leather seats. The guard gently groped Ryan's shaft and balls and quickly slid his hand down under Ryan's ass slightly probing his ass crack. Fully confident that Ryan was an innocent boy who wasn't trying to sneak in a weapon, the guard ended the inspection by unlocking Ryan's wrist cuffs and neck collar. Ryan slid his shirt back down, and raised his briefs and pants back up feeling somewhat violated but happy for it to be all over. As the guard opened up the car door next to him and helped guide Ryan out of the Jeep and into a waiting area inside the hut, Ryan whimsically wondered if they had found his brother's pocketknife. Ryan plumped himself down onto the thick leather couch on the far side of the waiting room as the guard disappeared into the back hallway. After several minutes, the guard returned and informed Ryan that his brother had also passed the inspection and would be out in a few minutes.

Rick could hear the swing of the two deadbolts unlock behind him as both guards entered the room. Rick had begun to regain his composure but regretted that his restraint prevented him from being able to wipe away his dried tears. He'd hoped the guards would not notice. As the guards released Rick from his gag and began unlocking and un-strapping Rick's wrists, the second guard asked, "Are you okay buddy?"

Rick nodded, "Yeah, I'm fine man, thanks."

"He'll be alright," said the guard who had searched Rick. Rick just wanted to get his little brother up to see Mark and then get the hell out of there.

He wasn't about to jeopardize his chance at his motorcycle by leaving now, but he wasn't eager to stay any longer than the visiting obligation called for. He felt that the worst was over and that since they had come this far, they may as well finish the visit. He tried his best to regain his composure. Yet, when he found his little brother waiting in the front area, he went up to him and gave him a hug.

He whispered in his ear, "Did they hurt you in any way?" Surprised, Ryan nodded his head no. "Good," Rick whispered as he hugged tighter before releasing Ryan and patting him twice on the back.

As Rick turned to face the two guards, the second one began, "I can lead you guys up to the main complex. Joey's expecting you, Rick."

"Great," Rick affirmed while glad that the guard who inspected him would not be joining them.

As they left the hut, Rick stayed close to his younger brother, Ryan, who was confused as to why Rick had such a sudden change in attitude. "Maybe Rick didn't like having his genitals looked at," Ryan hypothesized. The guard unlocked a small iron pedestrian gate in the massive perimeter wall and motioned them to enter. The guard relocked the gate and the three began the steep climb up the hill.

"We'll go through a side entrance since visiting hours are technically over.

Joey will be there," informed the guard. They approached a door marked "Admittance" and the guard unlocked two deadbolts and motioned them inside. They entered a small room. Another large metal door stood on the inside left wall with two more deadbolts. In the right corner sat a blue eyed, blonde haired solidly built man fully dressed in a white orderly uniform. A thick chunky brown leather belt wrapped snugly around the man's waist accentuated the V-shape of his torso. Keys dangled from the belt's side. He was sitting in a thickly padded brown leather wheel chair. Straps hung off all sides and in all directions, but the energetic yet solid man was not restrained in any way. He was slouching and relaxed. He peered up to Rick and Ryan with excitement.

"Joey, my man!" exclaimed Rick.

"I had begun to think you guy's wouldn't show!" jested Joey. Joey then informed the security guard: "Thanks Rob, I'll take it from here." The guard nodded, closed the door, and bolted the two dead bolts shut. "Did everything go okay at the gate," questioned Joey to Rick.

Rick hesitated, "Er, yeah, but is it really necessary to be searched so extensively?"

Joey became serious: "Hell yeah dude, if you knew some of the shit that went on here, you'd want even more security man!" Rick slightly agreed wondering what else could possibly go on that could be worse than what he endured. "So you must be Ryan," Joey smiled.

Ryan responded with slight energy: "Yeah, um, thanks for letting us in."

"For you my friend, anything," Joey boasted. "Now let's get you off to see your friend, er uh, what's his name again?" Joey questioned.

"Mark," Rick interrupted.

"Ah yeah, Mark. Oh he'll be glad to see you," Joey suspected. Joey took a ring of keys off his thick brown leather security belt and unlocked the two deadbolts in the massive door. He propped the door open as Rick stepped forward. Joey motioned to the wheel chair and eyed Ryan asking, "Wanna go for a ride?"

Ryan looked at the massive straps overflowing from the wheel chair and recoiled, "Ah, I dunno about all those straps."

Joey laughed, "Nah, we won't strap ya in." He winked at Ryan.

"Okay then," Ryan agreed as he sat down on to the leather wheel chair. He was surprised at how far he sunk in. Joey leaned in on Ryan and began tugging one of the straps near Ryan's waist gentling working the strap in to the buckle mechanism. Ryan's hands instinctively gently grabbed on to Joey's thick wrists. Ryan wasn't trying to physically stop Joey; instead, he was trying to non-verbally communicate that he did not wish to be strapped in. Joey's hands stayed firm showing no signs of notice towards Ryan's weak hands that lightly rested on top of them. Instead, Joey's hands finished locking the strap tightly around Ryan's waist. "I thought you said - ," Ryan began.

Joey interrupted, "Well you have to at least have the seat belt on!" Ryan conceded his weak protest as Joey firmly grabbed hold of Ryan's right wrist firmly pressing it against the inside of the thick brown leather cuff of the arm rest.

As he began to loop the strap, Rick's strip search experience made Rick become protective and caused him to place a firm hand on Joey's chest to try to move Joey back while saying, "Whoa, whoa dude, don't strap him in like that." Joey was stronger and bigger than Rick and his body didn't flinch. He had the strap looped and locked around Ryan's wrist before Rick could even realize that he would need more force to move Joey's body, force that he may not even have.

Grabbing hold of Ryan's other wrist, Joey moved to the other side of the wheel chair, finally looked up at Rick and said, "Don't worry buddy, it's just for safety. You don't mind, do you Ryan?" Before answering, Ryan tugged his right wrist gently against the smooth chunky brown leather of the wrist cuff he was locked in and felt a tickle of energy flow through his arm up to his neck and down his spine. Ryan had never felt such a sensation before. It was mysterious and Ryan kind of liked it.

He looked up to Rick and then to Joey saying: "Nah, it's kind of cool."

But Rick felt uneasy about the whole situation and stated, "At least unlock his wrist man. I don't like to see my brother like that." Joey nodded, released Ryan's left wrist and found a small key in his ring to unlock Ryan's right wrist. Once the locking mechanism was released, Rick moved in and got the strap out of the loop. He was surprised at how much effort was required to tug the tightly bound strap up and out of the buckle. Joey had made handling the thick leather straps look so easy. It took Rick longer to simply release the strap than it did Joey to loop it tight, synch it tighter, and lock it. The thick leather slid away from Ryan's wrist and the magic Ryan had experienced slowly subsided. Joey moved behind the wheel chair and began pushing Ryan forward as he motioned Rick to walk through the door. After wheeling Ryan past the threshold, Joey stopped to re-close and relock the two deadbolts of the massive door and returned his keys back to his leather belt.

Soon they all neared a central counter with a solidly framed, black haired, brown eyed man sitting behind it. His composure was solid and assured. He came off as a lot more serious than carefree Joey. "Yo Bri- these are the guys," exclaimed Joey to the man at the counter. The man slowly looked up and individually eyed both Rick and Ryan. His gaze into their eyes was strong and left both Ryan and Rick almost transfixed.

"Ah, welcome guys," offered the man as he stood up to greet them. Ryan was shocked to recognize the guy; it was Mark's fixation.

Ryan's mind raced, "The guy Mark couldn't stop talking about. It was the guy with the thick supple leather jacket. He worked here?" How this all fit together, and yet didn't fit together confused and intrigued Ryan.

"Rick, Ryan, meet my good buddy, Brian," announced Joey. As Brian extended his hand to shake Rick's hand, Ryan was about to stand up in order to be the next to properly shake Brian's hand but the thick leather strap tightly cuffed around Ryan's waist prevented him from moving upwards, let alone much in any other direction. Ryan became embarrassed that he allowed Joey to put him in the wheel chair. But without any sense of judgment, Brian walked around the counter and up to Ryan extending his muscular arm outwards. Ryan raised his hand and Brian firmly clasped it in a firm handshake. The tightness of his firm yet supple soft grip was much like the tightness and softness of the leather wrist cuff Joey had strapped on to Ryan. It sent the same mysterious tingle down Ryan's spine.

When Ryan tried to break the spell and pull his hand away, Brian kept it firmly clasped. "Wait a minute, I know you," stated Brian, "I've seen you around school before."

"Yeah," responded Ryan, "I think I've run into you a few times."

"Well good to finally meet you kid," Brian commented.

"Room 3?" questioned Joey to Brian.

"Yeah, room 3," responded Brian, "There, we can all discuss a few things before you meet your friend."

They all walked down the hallway to a room marked 103. Ryan became increasingly nervous about having to see Mark and yet hoped he'd be able to get some questions answered that were spinning in his head: "What exactly was wrong with Mark? Was it just a coincidence that Brian worked here? What else didn't he know?" Brian unlocked three deadbolts on the door and motioned Rick to enter. Pushing Ryan's wheelchair, Joey followed. Inside the room, two big huge black leather couches sat against an inside wall.

"Have a seat Rick," Joey ordered as Brian closed the door locking all three deadbolts. Rick sunk down in to one of the leather couches and Joey wheeled Ryan next to him. Brian sat on the other couch to the side and Joey straddled the oversized leather armrest next to Brian.

Brian began, "We just want to prepare you Ryan before you see Mark. Rick, we can only allow one visitor at a time and since it's getting late, well, just Ryan will be seeing him." Rick could not care less. He'd rather not see the freak and it was one less thing to have to worry about tonight. Brian concentrated his attention on Ryan. Joey leaned in further towards Ryan as well. Brian continued, "Mark isn't doing too well. I'm not going to go into the specifics, but I just want you to realize that he might not appear to be the same person that you know him as. He might look different; he might act different, from what you can remember. He also may try to threaten you or say things that just don't make sense. We need you to be aware of these things before you see him. The goal is to not cause conflict or upset him. We want this to all be non-confrontational and a peaceful visit. If you have to agree with him, even if it's a lie, it's probably better than trying to argue with him if he's not making sense. Of course Joey and I will both be there with you and we'll end the visit anytime you want if you start to feel uncomfortable or if we think Mark may be adversely affected. We don't want to hinder any of his progress."

"Are you comfortable with all this?" Joey asked.

"Yeah, I understand. I'm prepared," Ryan affirmed.

"Okay then, we just don't want any trouble," Brian remarked. He continued, "Rick, we'll have you wait here." Brian and Joey both stood up and Brian walked over to the door to begin unlocking the three deadbolts. As Joey grabbed onto the handles on the back of Ryan's wheelchair and began spinning the chair around towards the door, Rick struggled to lift himself out of the overly padded sunken in leather couch to grab hold of Joey's arm. He was surprised at how hard it was to get out of the innocent looking couch as well as how thick Joey's arm actually was. Joey's body was more powerful than he realized, and much bigger than his own. Joey noticed Rick's struggle against the leather couch as well as the lightness of Rick's uncoordinated touch on the side of his arm, slightly turned his head to meet Rick's gaze and smiled in a cocky manner.

Rick requested softly, "You'll watch out for Ryan, won't you?"

Joey's cocky smile expanded as he responded, "Of course bro, you can trust us – both Brian and I." As Brian held open the door, Joey wheeled Ryan out of the room.

Brian followed them turning to say one last thing to Rick: "Don't worry; we'll take good care of him."

Somewhat relieved, Rick stated, "Thanks."

As Rick slouched back into the depths of the leather couch, he heard the three clicks of the deadbolts being bolted shut.

Once inside the hallway, Joey put the brakes on Ryan's wheel chair. Brian firmly gripped Ryan's right wrist and pushed it firmly into the leather wrist cuff. Joey tightly belted the strap and locked it into place saying, "Your brother can't save you now little buddy."

"Huh?" Ryan questioned.

"He's locked up in that room and all the walls in this place are soundproof so he's completely clueless," Joey added. Ryan wasn't sure if he should panic or enjoy the return of the mysterious feeling the leather restraints caused.

Brian then moved Ryan's left wrist on to the second wrist cuff and interrupted, "Just the wrist straps Joey. This is just for safety Ryan." Joey let out of a sigh of disappointment and firmly tugged, buckled, and locked the heavy-duty brown leather cuff around Ryan's left wrist. Joey released Ryan's brakes and Brian led the way down several long corridors and into an elevator. The elevator descended and several long corridors, twists, and turns later, Brian approached a door and unlocked three deadbolts. Brian held the door open as Joey wheeled Ryan inside. The room was small and completely empty. The floor was concrete but the walls were soft. Ryan soon realized that the walls were padded – deep soft pads from floor to ceiling. Once Joey had moved Ryan's wheel chair into the far corner and had spun him around to face the center of the room, Ryan realized that the material of the walls was thick brown leather.

"Okay, I'll be back with him," Brian stated. Joey simply nodded and he and Ryan both heard the sound of Brian locking the three deadbolts behind him.

"Why are the walls padded leather?" bravely asked Ryan.

"Oh that," Joey began, "they need to be soft in case things ever get rough. It's hard to hurt yourself or someone else by banging up against nice soft leather walls. We're constantly having to restrain guys and its much better for them if we ram them up against a leather padded wall to cuff `um, instead of hard concrete, don't you think? Just like your wheel chair kid, you can't hurt yourself in it now can you?"

Ryan began tugging at the restraints realizing that even though they firmly held him in place, they were extremely soft. Joey smiled at Ryan's futile struggles against the straps as he squatted down in front of Ryan and began tugging at the straps that hung loosely around Ryan's ankles. Joey began, "I know Brian doesn't want me to strap you in more, but it's just too much fun!" Joey tugged and worked the straps around Ryan's ankles and locked them in to place. With each additional strap, a tingle shot up Ryan's body and down his spine. Ryan became lost in the euphoria of the restraints as Joey continued positioning every single strap that had previously innocently hung loosely around Ryan's body. Joey synched straps around his calves, his thighs, and additional strap around his stomach, more straps around his chest, his biceps, and even his neck. Ryan was completely encased in the leather straps and Joey could not have been more gleeful. As Joey stepped back to admire his handy work, Ryan soon realized that Joey was starring at his crotch. Looking down, Ryan realized that his cock had grown full mast. Joey leaned in towards Ryan and once again squatted in front of him. Joey extended his hand towards Ryan's crotch and firmly tugged against Ryan's shirt and jeans. Ryan immediately shot his hands towards his crotch to protect himself from Joey, but the thickness of the brown leather cuffs held Ryan's wrists firmly against the handrails of the leather brown wheelchair. Taking no notice to Ryan's frustrations, Joey's thick hand synched its way past Ryan's cotton shirt, the denim of his jeans, and even the thin layer of cotton of his briefs. Ryan's index finger and thumb found Ryan's cockhead and firmly pinched it. The firm softness of Joey's masculine hand made Joey's cock arch further upwards as it pressed back against Joey's thumb and finger. Joey wormed Ryan's cockhead up out of his briefs exposing it to the musk air of the room. Joey released his pinching grip, moved his hand slightly back, and flicked his finger hard on to Ryan's cockhead, further causing it to spring. Joey laughed, "You've got a problem!"

Fully gagged and tugged tightly inside a thick leather strait jacket tucked deep inside a leather prison of thickly padded black leather walls, flooring, and ceiling laid Mark. He had become quite used to the padded cell having spent most of his time in it during the last two weeks since he had been committed here. Of course, he had no idea how long it had actually been. He had only been removed from the windowless cell to be taken to the bathroom and to be spoon-fed a few meals. Twice he had been allowed to exercise his body and to shower. But of all the activities, every single one of them involved restraints. Mark was either held down by thick black leather or the thick muscular bodies of Joey and Brian. Even the weight machines Mark was infrequently allowed to use contained thick leather restraints and with both Brian and Joey spotting him on the machines, there was no room to make maneuvers that they did not control. Mark had not been allowed to talk much. The drugs mixed in with his food or that had occasionally been firmly injected into his flesh caused Mark to spend most of his days sleeping. He was constantly groggy. So when Mark heard the sound of three deadbolts unlocking he expected to be dragged off and strapped to a toilet, but Brian had other plans in mind.

Brian struggled to make his way over to Mark. Even though he was in peak fitness, the overly thick heavy leather padded flooring and walls provided no friction for him to maneuver. "How you doing kid?" Brian asked as he finally managed to lean down and firmly clutch onto one of the multitude of straps that coated the back of Mark's strait jacket. He began tugging Mark's body upwards while the gag in Mark's mouth prevented him from even beginning to try to address Brian's question. Mark made no gestures of resistance as Brian slowly dragged Mark's body towards the entrance of the cell. As usual, a thick black leather wheel chair waited for Mark at the threshold of the door. Knowing the routine, Mark plumbed himself down into the wheel chair as Brian began firmly restraining him to the thick padding. Mark already had tried everything to escape. Nothing worked. There were always too many straps, too many restraining devices, too much leather, too many muscles applying too great a force holding him into place, and too many drugs that were much too strong.

Once Mark was firmly strapped and locked into place, Brian began wheeling him toward the elevator. "We've got a surprise for you today kid," Brian informed. Mark wasn't even sure what he had said. His eyes were still trying to adjust to the lighting of the hallway after having sat in darkness for what seemed an eternity. His head still spun from the previous drug he had been injected with and his muscles ached from atrophy. Once inside the elevator they began ascending. Brian continued, "You've got a visitor." Mark wondered if he had heard him right. "It's your friend from school. He made a special trip to see you so you had better be a good little boy," Brian taunted. Mark's brain went into over-drive. If there was a friend of his waiting to see him, hell if there was anyone from the outside waiting to see him, then there was hope. Hope that he could communicate his predicament. Hope that he could send a message to the outside. Hope that someone would discover that he had been tricked into being here. Hope that he'd have a chance at getting out. Suddenly Mark was overcome with energy; which unconsciously caused him to fight against his restraint. His arms tried to extend, his hands tried to reach, and he even tried to stand up. Of course, Mark didn't move but less than an inch here and there. The thick leather of his strait jacket held Mark's entire upper body in a supple soft embrace. His hands were firmly pinned under his armpits deep inside the thick folds of the double thick leather sleeves.

Reaching out had only caused his fingers to rub against the internal sleeve's thick leather. The leather caused his fingers to bend back inwards. The outer layer of leather didn't even move. The inside layer didn't allow the futile movement of his finger's to show through to the outside world. Extending his arms had meant that his elbows tried to move away from the center of his body to his sides. But again, the leather sleeves were snugly attached and firmly held Mark's elbows near the center of his stomach. Trying to move them to the sides immediately strained what little extra slack the jacket provided, which Mark required in order to be able to extend his lungs in order to breathe. Needing air, Mark's body unconsciously returned his elbows, which had not even moved a whole inch, back to the center of his body. From the outside, Mark had not extended his arms at all. The deep breath he required to take after his futile attempts to reposition his elbows was barely even noticeable to the outside. Brian was wondering if Mark had even heard him announce the presence of his visitor. Not even Mark's attempt to stand showed any signs of movement. The thick leather ankles cuffs of the wheel chair were wrapped tightly against Mark's legs. They extended from the bottom of his heel to nearly his knee. Three thick leather straps held them in place. The cuffs were extensively padded and had only slightly creaked when Mark tried extending his legs to stand. Mark couldn't even hear the creak. Brian did and slightly grinned in response. He placed his hands on Mark's shoulders gently kneading into Mark's back and stated, "If you try anything funny, you'll regret it."

Mark had figured taking advantage of this opportunity would not be easy. He knew Brian and Joey were smart and he had to come up with a way to get a message across without making it obvious as to what he was doing. If only he knew who the visitor was, he could start plotting. His head hurt so badly that it was hard for him to begin to think. And he didn't have much time. The elevator doors slid open and Brian began moving him down the long corridor. Brian stopped at a door but didn't proceed to unlock or open it. Instead, he reached in to the chest pocket of his white uniform and pulled out a small leather pen-sized case. He opened the leather folds of the case and removed a small syringe filled with a thick liquidly substance. Brian cocked Mark's head to one side from behind with one hand and Mark began to realize what he was doing and panicked with frustration. "No, no, no," screamed Mark. But the thickness of his leather gag only allowed the release of a faint "mmmph" sound. Mark knew Brian's thick muscular grip would be too strong for Mark to be able to push away so he didn't even try to buck his head and soon felt the familiar prick of the needle against the side of his neck.

Brian slowly returned Mark's head to his original position stating, "That's a good boy. Either the restraints are too strong for me to notice or you didn't try to resist that time. Pretty soon I won't even have to use force." Irritated, Mark tried to focus on a plan of action. He didn't feel any affects from the drug yet, which still meant he had time. Brian unlocked the three deadbolts and pressed open the door.

Inside Mark could see Joey's back and it looked like he was hunched over someone. Brian wheeled Mark in stopping the wheel chair a few feet from Joey's back and closed the door, locking all the deadbolts back into place. Joey tugged the bottom of Ryan's t-shirt neatly over Ryan's cock-head that he had been playing. Joey then extended his back upward to stand before turning over to face Mark with a playful smile. "There he is!" he exclaimed as he gently reached forward and patted Mark's leather covered shoulder with his hand. As Joey stepped to the side, Ryan finally took his first glimpse at Mark. He was stunned and wasn't sure at first if it was really him. All he could immediately process was the extensive amount of black shiny leather. There was leather all over Mark's body. His upper torso was completely encased in a jacket. His legs were barely recognizable as all Ryan could make out were thick heavy cuffs that extended almost the entire length of Mark's calves and thighs. Mark's mouth was completely covered by a band of leather that wrapped around the back of his head. Ryan was finally able to see past the leather and recognize Mark's brown eyes peering anxiously into his own. Glancing up towards Mark's gently combed brown hair; Ryan finally knew it was him. Ryan's body reacted to his recognition of Mark by trying to extend closer to Mark but the leather wheel chair he was strapped into halted any of his attempts. The leather cuffs were not sending any tingles up Ryan's spine this time. They were making him mad and frustrated.

It had also taken a few moments for Mark to recognize Ryan. As soon as Joey had stepped away from blocking his view of Ryan, Mark had realized that whoever was visiting him was extensively strapped in the brown leather wheel chair Mark had been so expertly restrained in the first day he got there. Once Mark's eyes moved past the leather restraints and up to the victim's face, his head filled with hope and regret that it was Ryan. Mark was so glad someone he knew and trusted was feet away from him and so frustrated and scared that he was also fully restrained. Mark fully remembered that wheelchair and knew there was no way out of it.

"Could you let me out of this chair now?" Ryan anxiously requested looking up to Joey. Joey had not yet responded when Ryan continued, "please Joey."

"Nah," stated Joey as he shook his head, "not until after the visit. Remember what we talked about, no conflicts."

"Mark. Hey..." Ryan began as he attempted to lean forward as best he could. The straps around his chest did not allow him to get far. Having trouble breathing, Ryan returned his chest back to its original position.

Mark tried to communicate his knowledge of an urgent message to Joey through his eyes. Ryan could sense that he had something desperate to tell him.

"Can, can, you at least let him talk?" asked Ryan.

"Of course," Brian answered, "but let's just give you guys a few more moments to adjust to each other. It's best to take these things slow."

With great hope Mark started thinking of what his first words would be. He was still not feeling any effects of the drug.

"Just relax guys," Brian soothed, "just relax. It's been a while since you've seen each other huh?"

"Yeah," Ryan quickly responded, "It's been two weeks now."

Mark wondered if his head was beginning to feel heavier or if it was just his own brain playing tricks on him. Thinking that Brian might be waiting to see signs of the drug working, Mark slowly closed his eyes and gently opened them half way. Brian's only response was placing his hands on top of Mark's shoulders and gently rubbing into his back, firmly kneading his shoulders like he had done so many times before. Soon Mark began to feel a lot weaker and he knew it must be the drug. Brian's hands moved from Mark's shoulders to the back of his head and slowly began unlocking and unbuckling the strap that held Mark's gag firmly in place. Mark tried to fight the sedative that was making his brain increasingly foggy and his whole body weak. "You feeling okay buddy," Joey offered. Mark hated how they constantly asked him how he was doing when he had a gag in his mouth and could never respond. Soon the strap of the gag was loose but Mark didn't have enough energy to try to force the gag out. He needed Brian to tug it out for him and then he'd scream at Ryan to get him out of there. Recognizing that Mark needed some help, Brian slowly moved his hands to Mark's mouth and slowly began working the gag outwards. Then he stopped.

"No, I need it out now," thought Mark causing a surge of pain to throb through his brain.

Brian looked up at Ryan and asked, "Do you know what you are going to say to him?" Ryan nodded enthusiastically. Brian returned to gently tugging the gag out of Mark's mouth. The salvia in Mark's mouth clung to the gag resisting its movement outward. Finally, cold crisp air met Mark's lips and then his tongue as he began to cough. The gag was out and here was Mark's chance. Mark tried to scream at Ryan to let him out but his vocal chords weren't screaming; they were trying to fight against the effects of the drug to even manage the formation of a whisper.

"Ry- Rya- " Mark began to utter. He couldn't help but stutter on his own words and wasn't exactly sure if he was even talking out loud. The drug was taking over.

"Yes Mark? I'm here," Ryan enthusiastically replied.

"It's no, It's not, It's not righ-," Mark continued.

"Huh?" Ryan asked.

"Easy Mark," Brian instructed as he cupped Mark's forehead and then gently groped his neck in a massaging manner causing Mark's vocal cords to further relax and give into the drug. "Don't over-strain yourself. You've been very weak today," Brian continued.

The sedative Brian had administered was almost in full control of Mark's body and for a moment Mark forgot where he was or what he was doing. But just like your brain can, out of nowhere suddenly alert you that you've over-slept, Mark's brain suddenly jump started Mark's alertness. "I shouldn't be here," Mark blurted. He tried to continue, "I was trick-." But before he could finish the word "tricked," Brian's thick muscular hand had cupped Mark's mouth shut.

"You're over exerting yourself and you might faint. Just relax," Brian ordered. Trying to cope with Brian's thick muscular hand pressing smoothly into Mark's lips, Mark's brain began to drift off. The sedative had become too much for him to handle. His brain left the room completely and his head slowly began to drop to one side. Brian released his grip from Mark's mouth and gently guided his falling head down to his shoulder.

"What was he trying to say?" Ryan stammered. Joey clamped Ryan's mouth shut just as Brian had done to Mark.

"Easy buddy, this has become too intense for him," Joey stated. Joey and Brian exchanged nods. Ryan relaxed his mouth in to Joey's supple hand.

Finally, Joey slowly removed his hand from Ryan's lips and Brian started, "Mark thinks he doesn't have a problem and he thinks he doesn't belong here.

But as you can see, he can barely work up enough energy and selfhood to address his own friend."

"It's really sad," Joey added, "we really wish he would come to grips so we could help him get better."

Ryan looked down in regret. He wasn't sure if Mark was in trouble because of what this place was doing to him, what his own mental state was doing to him, or if it was a combination of both. He wished there was more he could do to help Mark's situation and he felt determined to get to the bottom of it all. Brian unlocked the door and began wheeling Mark out of the room. Ryan watched Mark's lifeless body disappear into the hallway. Brian closed the door and relocked the deadbolts and gently looked down at Mark who was now sound asleep in the chair. "That was a good boy Mark," Brian said to himself, "That's it, let the drug do its job, just relax."

Back inside, Ryan asserted to Joey, "He said he was tricked?"

"He's so confused right now Ryan" Joey explained, "He's said so many things to us that just don't make sense." Joey began un-strapping Ryan from the wheelchair. Ryan's mind was so focused on the state of his best friend that he didn't even recognize his increased freedom. Soon he was fully unbuckled. Fully concentrated on Mark's situation and fully free from the confines of the wheel chair, Ryan unconsciously dismissed Joey's previous actions as playfulness.

After placing Mark back into his leather cell sound asleep, Brian returned to Joey and Ryan and the three of them headed back to room 103. Rick could hear the swing of the three deadbolts. Ryan entered first and a sigh of relief passed over Rick. He was so glad to see his brother all in one piece. Rick extended his hand to Ryan's shoulder and as Joey and Brian entered the room, Rick asked, "How did it go?" They explained that Mark had been completely out of it and Ryan expressed his concern of how he hated to see Mark like that.

With Ryan and Rick sitting side by side on the large leather couch and Joey snuggled firmly into the couch opposite them, Brian straddled the oversized arm-rest next to Joey and began, "You know Ryan, there is something you could do –." Ryan eagerly looked up to Brian as Brian continued, "You seem to be the only friend Mark's got and he really seems to respond to you."

"Yeah," Joey added, "I've never seen him so anxious and desperate to connect to someone."

"Maybe you'd be willing to help us with Mark. Stick around for a while or –," Brian suggested.

As Ryan's eyes perked with interest, Joey interrupted, "Hell, work for us for a few days, spend the night here, anything you could do."

Brian continued, "It would be best if you could be here when Mark has more energy but we never know when that is going to be and as you guys know, visiting hours are so limited here."

"What are you guys talking about," Rick interjected, "You want Ryan to stay here and help?"

Brian responded, "Well, we could set something up so you get paid, like for community outreach or something. We'll think of something. But I really think if you could be here and catch Mark on one of his upbeat moments that you could help us communicate with him and get him back on track."

Joey asked, "Could you stay the weekend? At least just the weekend?"

Ryan couldn't get the image of Mark's helplessness out of his mind. "Can't I stay the weekend?" Ryan asked Rick.

Rick looked down in hesitation. He was reluctant to leave his bro at this place. "You guys even have a place for him to sleep?" he asked.

"Hell we got tons of beds here," Joey smirked, "We're always spending the night here. You know you can trust us both with him, Rick? Didn't we take good care of you while your bro wasn't around?" smiled Joey to Ryan.

Immediately Ryan nodded yes. He wanted to help his friend.

"Alright, but you've got to call Mom and Dad and make sure its okay with them," Rick conceded.

"Oh, they'll love me for doing this," Ryan exclaimed, "Thanks guys, I really want to help."

After a quick phone call to Ryan's parents from the main station where they had first met Brian, Ryan was allowed to spend the night. His dad had to fax in a note giving Rick, who was legally of age, proxy to vouch as Ryan's legal guardian. Rick and Ryan had to fill out a few forms. Joey and Brian explained that it was just a formality to make sure no one got into trouble and explained that they had extra clothes and toiletries that Ryan could use. They'd plan on him staying for the weekend with the possibility of cutting it short if Ryan needed or extending it if things worked out. Rick told Ryan that he was to call him at any time if he needed to come home. Rick said that Ryan need not feel bad if he needed to come home because he could always come back another time to help Mark.

Once Joey was ready to escort Rick back down to the gate, Rick gave his little brother a firm hug. It was an emotional moment. Rick was giving up his ability to protect his brother and placing that responsibility into Joey's hands. Rick had hoped he'd be taking his little brother back home with him. He was even going to let him sit in the front seat.

With one last goodbye, Joey led Rick away past his little brother, past Brian who was currently kneading his hands into the back of Ryan's shoulders, past the small side entrance room, past all the dead bolted doors and gates, and into the small entrance hut which had been completely closed down for the night. Rick was relieved that he did not have to run into the security guard that had searched him. Inside the hut, Joey returned Rick's items and led him back outside to his car. From inside his red jeep Cherokee, Rick waved one last goodbye to Joey as he veered his car away from the gate and slowly proceeded into the woods down the long windy road.

Joey and Brian found Ryan a room for the night. It was a small bedroom with an attached mini bath, which contained new toiletries wrapped in plastic. Neatly tucking himself into the bed, Ryan had trouble falling asleep. All he could think about was Mark.

Mark's brain slowly regained consciousness as his eyes slowly crept open. He soon realized that he was not in his strait jacket or his leather cell. Instead, he was laid out on a bed in a small conventional room. His wrists and ankles firmly locked into thick chunky brown leather cuffs that were firmly attached to the mattress. A strap wrapped his chest, his waist, and his thighs. It was the same room he had spent several nights in every so often when Brian had figured his arms were getting too sore from the strait jacket. Soon Mark heard the familiar swings of the door's deadbolts and wondered if it was going to be bathroom or feeding time. As the door swung open, he was stunned to see a familiar face. It was Ryan. "Ryan!" Mark exclaimed as Ryan quietly closed the door behind him and rushed to Mark's side.

"Shhhhhhh!" Ryan whispered, "We don't' have much time." With keys in his hands, Ryan swiftly began unlocking Mark but struggled to remove the straps.

They were done up way too tight.

"How did you...what are you...what's going on?" Mark asked.

"I'm getting you out of here, that's what buddy," replied Ryan.

"Oh Ryan!" you don't know what they've done to me; you don't know what I've been through. Oh, you don't know how happy I am to see you! I tried talking to you and telling you but they drugged me. I couldn't help but fall asleep in front of you," Mark expressed.

"Look," Ryan responded, "none of that matters now." Once Ryan had finally managed to tug out the thick strap around one of Mark's chunky wrist cuffs from the buckle, Mark finally had a free hand to help Ryan finish getting him out of the restraints. The whole process was arduous because neither of them were very strong, they were both in two much of a hurry, and Mark's head was still foggy from all the drugs he'd been dealing with.

Once Mark was finally fully free, he asked, "How are we getting out of here?"

Ryan quickly responded, "Both Joey and Brian are asleep. I've got all the keys we need and I know the way. We just have to keep quiet and watch out for any cameras."

"Oh man, I love you dude," Mark enthusiastically expressed. Mark struggled to make his way off the bed; his body was unfamiliar with the ability to freely move. Once on both feet, Mark's body instinctively stopped to stretch. It just had to and boy did it feel good. Extending his muscles in all directions, Mark let out a huge sigh of relief: "Oh man, to be able to breathe freely again!" As they both headed for the door, Ryan began searching for the key to release the latch on the door, which had snapped and locked shut once Ryan had closed it. Before finding the correct one, Ryan's gaze was adverted away from the keys and onto a shiny object that sat crumpled on the floor against the wall. It was thick, supple, black, and leather. It had straps extending from it in all directions, heavy-duty metal buckles, and damn it was so shiny. It was Mark's straitjacket. Mark realized what had caught Ryan's eyes and stated, "Isn't that an insane contraption?"

"Yeah, no shit," Ryan responded as he bent over to touch the thick supple leather. Ryan went deep into thought.

"What's wrong?" Mark asked.

"Listen Mark, we're getting out of here, I know we are. But, I can't help but think of all those things we've talked about. You know..." Ryan expressed.

"Ah, you mean leather and stuff?" Mark responded.

"Yeah, exactly," Ryan responded. "Listen," Ryan continued, "I have to say once we're out of here we'll never be back."

"Hell, you've got that right," Mark interrupted. Ryan began picking up the leather strait jacket; its thick leather glistened in the light.

"We're never gonna see a jacket like this ever again," predicted Ryan.

"You want to take it with you?" Mark probed.

"No, it's too noisy. The clanking of the buckles and straps might hinder our escape," informed Ryan.

"Forget it then dude; let's just get out of here!" Mark exclaimed.

"I wanna look at this; we've got plenty of time. Their shift isn't for another five hours," Ryan asserted.

Mark trusted his best friend and was pretty sure they'd be getting out. After all, Ryan had the keys to the kingdom. But Mark was still eager to leave sooner than later. Mark impatiently watched Ryan inspecting the jacket. Ryan opened up the back and moved it towards Mark saying, "Don't you wanna see how it felt, just one last time?" Mark's gut reaction was to reject the jacket as he began turning his head away. But his eye caught glimpse of its supple exterior shimmering against the light and caused Mark's gaze to linger on the supple leather jacket. "That's it," Ryan softly responded, "just feel it again Mark; feel into the sleeves."

"Nah Ryan," Mark rejected.

"Just have a seat Mark, we need to talk," Ryan asserted as he began gently moving his body and the jacket towards Mark causing Mark to gently move back and press the back of his thighs gently against the foot of the bed. Ryan slowly continued moving closer causing Mark's knees to buckle and sit on the edge of the mattress. "I want you to just put your hands in the sleeves again; that's all you have to do. I need you to prove something to me." Mark slightly moved his hands forward but stopped short of the jacket's sleeves.

"What do you need me to prove?" Mark began as Ryan pressed the jacket against Mark's half extended arms.

"You'll see. Now just feel inside," Ryan continued as Mark's hands made further contact with the thick leather sleeves. "That's it, we've got plenty of time to leave; this will just take a second. Now close your eyes Mark; just close your eyes," Ryan repeated.

The repeated suggestion caused Mark's eyelids to slowly close causing his sensations to get lost in the jacket. Ryan eased the jacket's sleeves up over Mark's shoulders and Mark once again found his home inside the leather strait jacket. It was cool and soft. It embraced Mark and offered no signs of overt authority. Un-strapped, the jacket was completely harmless and Mark felt at ease. He couldn't resist the jacket's innocence. Ryan was being assertive for the first time and Mark couldn't help but trust him. "I think I should get my arms out now," Mark began as his brain tried to return to reality.

"No, just a few more seconds, just relax," ordered Ryan as he moved on to the bed behind Mark synching up the jacket's sides over and around Mark's back. "I just want to see how this works," he informed as he tugged at some of the back straps and looped the middle one tightly around Mark's back.

"Ryan, don't be doing that okay?" Mark weakly requested.

"Mark, it's only one strap, you're still completely free. You'll be fine. We'll never be back here again," Ryan responded.

Mark wanted to stand up and leave the room. But the door was still shut and he needed Ryan's keys to unlock it. Hell, his arms were back in leather-covered sleeves. He'd need Ryan to unlock the door even if he had the keys. "You like the feel, don't you Mark?" Ryan asked as he strapped up a second back strap.

As Ryan began strapping a third back strap, Mark was beginning to feel uncomfortable about the whole situation and asked, "You're not going to strap up the whole thing are you?"

"So what if I do Mark? You know I'll let you out. This jacket is just so intriguing. You have to realize, I mean, you kind of look transfixed in it.

I'm beginning to understand why you like leather so much," revealed Ryan.

Mark tried to process Ryan's words as Ryan finished the final back strap and clasped his hands over Mark's arms to begin crossing them around his chest and pull the arm strap around Mark's back. "Don't strap the arms, Ryan, okay?" Mark requested.

Ryan stopped, leaned in to Mark's ear, and whispered, "You'll be fine."

Mark didn't begin to resist until the strap was firmly pulled into place. Once he began to try to extend his arms away from being strapped, the thick grip of the supple jacket was already holding his arms firmly in place. They were trapped. In defiance, Mark stood up. "Let me out now. Okay? We need to get out of here," Mark exclaimed.

"Sure thing," said Ryan, "All I gotta do is the crotch straps. I've come this far with it, I gotta complete it." Ryan reached around Mark's crotch and strapped one of the straps in to place. It was then that they both heard a noise from the hallway.

"We gotta go Ryan!" Mark exclaimed.

"Just this last strap, damn I just need one more strap to finish it," Ryan urged completely transfixed with the jacket and unable to leave it incomplete. Mark couldn't wait any longer. He turned to Ryan and arched his body to Ryan's jean pocket where the keys were. Ryan backed his waist away.

"You want the keys?" he taunted. "Go ahead, take um," he finished as he moved his waist back towards Mark. Mark bent over to Ryan's waist positioning the thick leather sleeve that contained his hand up to Ryan's pocket. He could see the keys budging out of Ryan's jeans. But his fingers couldn't even feel them. All his fingers could feel was the thick leather of the jacket. He couldn't feel the denim of Ryan's jeans. He couldn't feel the keys, but he knew the jacket was rubbing against them. All he could feel was the supple leather deep inside the jacket. His attempt was useless. Satisfied, Ryan laughed, "You can't get them can you? You're trapped up in the jacket. Now let me get the crotch strap so we can go." Mark reluctantly consented and Ryan grabbed the crotch strap and tugged Mark in. Mark rushed over to the door and anxiously waited for Ryan to unlock the deadbolts. Ryan slowly reached into his jean pocket and took out the keys stumbling to find the correct one. Finally, Ryan got the door open. Fully strait jacketed, Mark desperately peered his head out of the doorway only to see the backside of a beefy orderly walking down the corridor away from the room.

"Shit," Mark cursed.

Ryan interrupted, "We can still sneak to the elevator; he's walking the opposite way." Mark desperately looked down to the jacket he was strapped in. Noticing his predicament Ryan offered, "There's no time! I'll unstrap you once we're in the elevator." As the orderly turned a corner at the end of the long hallway, the coast was clear and the two quietly snuck down the hallway in the opposite direction. Once at the elevator, Ryan hit the "Up" button. After a few moments the door opened.

"What floor leads out?" asked Mark.

"I think it's L," said Ryan. Mark impatiently pressed the button with his forehead causing "L" and "G" to light up.

"Fuck," said Mark.

"Relax, it's on the way," soothed Ryan.

The elevator doors slowly closed and they began ascending. "Start un-strapping me," Mark requested as he turned his back to Ryan. Ryan began tugging on Mark's crotch straps. Having released one, the strap fell down and loosely hung between Mark's legs. "No, no, do the arms first, not the crotch," insisted Mark. Ryan moved his hand up to the arm strap as the elevator door swung open at "G" revealing a small empty reception style room with two massive black leather couches. Ryan released his hands from the arm strap's buckle before being able to unbuckle it. He needed his hands to hit the "close door" button. Frantic and distracted, his hands returned to Mark's straitjacket and began undoing the other crotch strap instead of the arm strap he had been starting to work on. As the elevator rose to "L" the other crotch strap fell loosely between Mark's legs. As the elevator doors began to open on to floor "L," Ryan was finally able to undo Mark's arm strap. Sensing the slack in his arms, Mark quickly began trying to wedge his arms out of their hug as he and Ryan both looked up out of the elevator to discover the same set-up as found on floor "G." Two leather couches sat against a wall. With Mark's arms still fully encased in the leather sleeves, but finally free from hugging himself, Mark began trying to tug on the buckles behind him. As they both stepped into the small room, they noticed two large front doors to their left and a front counter on their right. Mark didn't recognize the man behind the counter, but Ryan did. It was Rob, the security guard that had searched Ryan. Rob looked up in surprise as both Mark and Ryan sprinted towards the front doors. Of course they were locked but Ryan began fumbling through his keychain to find the correct key.

Slowly getting over the shock of seeing Mark half-way trussed up in a strait jacket being accompanied by Ryan, the little innocent boy he had searched, Rob made his way out of his thick black leather chair and began moving towards them asking, "Hey buds, what's going on?"

Still frantically searching for the right key, Ryan whispered to Mark: "He may be on our side. I met him at the front gate earlier." Waiting for Ryan to find the right key, Mark kept prodding at the straps on his back; the thick leather encapsulating his fingers made trying to grab hold of any of the buckles futile.

"I'm not supposed to be here. I was tricked into signing in," shouted Mark to Rob who was half way across the room.

"Let's just go back and talk about it," Rob informed as he slowly neared them.

"You don't understand," Ryan added as he finally found the correct key and began sliding one of the two deadbolts into the unlocked position.

"Easy, easy," Rob informed, "I understand that something doesn't seem right here, but in order for me to right the situation, I've got to figure out what's going on." Ryan quickly unbolted the second lock and pushed the front door wide open. By then Rob had gotten too close, his right thick muscular hand firmly clasped hold of the thick double layered leather sleeve containing Mark's right wrist. Ryan stopped at the threshold of the door anxiously peering into Rob's eyes. As Rob's other hand grabbed Mark's other wrist and tightly swung Mark's arms around his body in a firm hug, Rob continued, "Just trust me Ryan. I'm on your side. Let's just have a seat and talk about what's going on. You can even leave the front door open."

"What are you going to do with Mark?" asked Ryan unsure of which way to go: towards Mark or out of the front door.

"I'm not going to lie to you buddy, I am going to have to immediately restrain his strait jacket. It's what I've been trained to do and it's unsafe for Mark and us to have a restraint incompletely strapped. It's against regulations. But then I'm going to help you guys." Rob's face was friendly and his manner was genuine. Rob could sense his gaining of Ryan's trust and continued, "That's it buddy, easy."

"And if I don't run, what are you going to do?" Ryan blurted.

"I'm going to have you both sit down on the couch so all three of us can talk. Nice and easy. You don't have anything to worry about," explained Rob with an assured tone of control.

"Are you going to put restraints on me?" quivered Ryan.

The guard shifted his hips causing the stance of his legs to arch his crotch in a manner that signified complete control of the situation. The guard informed, "Absolutely not. You have my word."

Satisfied, Ryan released the front door causing it to gently swing closed and latch-lock firmly shut. Rob eased Mark towards the leather couch and Ryan followed. Rob looped Mark's arm strap tightly back around his body and buckled it shut. He then quickly tugged both crotch straps back in to place. Rob guided Mark's fully encapsulated body down into the depths of the leather couch. "Now have a seat," Rob suggested to Ryan. Ryan sat down into the plush leather couch next to Mark and Rob leaned in to the front of Ryan's body and tugged Ryan's keys away from him. The guard snapped them into his chunky leather belt and then Rob placed his hands around Ryan's wrists and guided them upwards to lean them firmly against the back of the leather couch above Ryan's head. Rob then raised his right knee and firmly slid it in between Ryan's legs lightly pressing his knee up against Ryan's crotch to firmly hold his body in place on the leather couch.

"Hey, you promised not to-," Ryan began.

"Just relax. I've kept my word. I'm not putting any restraints on you," the guard informed, "You need to relax. Just let my body's firm grip guide you into relaxation."

It was then that Mark saw two familiar faces approach the room from behind the counter. The leather pants coating their thick muscular legs caused loud creaking noises. The wheels of the stretcher they were pushing squeaked along the hard floor. The guys' bodies were fit and solid. One was blonde and the other had black hair. They swiftly approached Mark as he whined, "Nooooooo, please don't, please." Taking no notice to Mark's pleas, they smiled, firmly picked him up, and placed him onto the stretcher. Rob eased and released his restraining grip on Ryan and began helping Joey and Brian restrain Mark's body into the stretcher's multitude of straps. Realizing that Ryan was now free, Mark yelled, "Ryan, help me!" Ryan continued sitting and began to cry. "Ryan, run! Go, get help!" Mark shouted. But Ryan continued to sob and remain seated in the supple hug of the leather couch.

Finally, Ryan worked up the ability to say, "I can't do that Mark."

"What, Why not?" yelled Mark.

"Because you need help," Ryan began as his tears flowed, "Don't you see Mark? It was a test. It was all a test. You had a chance to leave this place and you didn't take it."

Joey mockingly added, "Yeah, it was all pre-planned. You were never really going to get out of here, Mark."

Ryan continued, "You let the jacket control you. I didn't believe them Mark. I didn't believe them when they said you had a problem. I began to believe you that they were wrong in keeping you here. But you failed the test. You couldn't resist the strait jacket. You're supposed to be here Mark. You need help," Ryan continued still sobbing and tormented.

Mark was speechless and finally began to softly say, "You tricked me. I trusted you."

Ryan yelled, "I didn't do anything you didn't let me do!"

The stretcher Mark was now completely restrained to was the same one Brian and Joey had placed him into the first night he had arrived at Calm Crescent. Straps covered him in all areas of his body. He was sunken into thick leather pad of the stretcher deeply and the tightness of the stretcher pressing firmly against his leather strait jacket that in turn was pressing firmly into his body felt, regrettably, familiar.

Satisfied with the security and completeness of the stretcher's hold on Mark's body, Brian disappeared behind the counter and Joey and Rob approached Ryan. Joey plumped himself onto the leather couch next to Ryan and extended a hand to his face wiping his teary eyes and said, "You did well, Ryan, you did real well."

Ryan exclaimed, "I don't want to see him anymore; I'm done trying to help."

"Ah, there, there," Joey continued, "It's okay. We don't need your help anymore." Joey moved his hand from Ryan's face and down to his lap. He gently clasped Ryan's hand in a comforting embrace.

"That's right," Rob agreed as he slowly lowered his body to sit next to the opposite side of Ryan. Brian slowly returned to the room as Rob continued to comfort Ryan. Rob gently clasped Ryan's other hand and said, "We can take it from here."

As Brian approached the front of Ryan, both Joey and Rob moved their gentle grips from Ryan's hands to his wrists. Ryan sensed the tightening of their grips around his wrists and peered his teary eyes up to Brian, who was loosely holding a contraption in his hands. Ryan recognized it immediately but was too overcome with everything to correctly respond. His body simply allowed Rob and Joey to firmly raise his wrists effectively extending his arms up into the sleeves of the contraption that Brian was readily holding open.

The three men worked efficiently and expertly. It was a task they had completed many times before and one that they would complete many times more.

Rob left the group to fetch another stretcher and soon Ryan felt his strait-jacketed body being placed horizontally into the deepness of the second stretcher's leather padding. Ryan's brain was completely lost in the sensations of thick leather straps being pulled, re-tugged, buckled, and locked.

Soon Rob went to return to his post at the front counter as Brian and Joey wheeled the two stretchers into the elevator. Having made their decent to the lower level, they placed Mark back into his leather cell and laid Ryan by his side.

Ryan finally understood the fullness of what Mark had experienced: the tightness, the frustration, the gentle tingling, and even that special sense of finally being home.

Before closing the door, Brian began, "Don't worry guys, we won't let you leave. And, the state isn't going to ever make us give you up. Ryan, your dad gave legal guardian status to your brother, who in turn signed you over to us. And, because you signed too, we also have your full consent."

Joey continued. "Both of you need help. Mark, you can't resist a chance to be in leather restraints. And Ryan, bud, you crossed the line when you put one of our patients into restraints. And, I'm not so sure you don't enjoy them just as much as Mark does. Lucky for you guys, we got you both in here so that we can help you."

Brian finished, "There's no need to struggle. No need to fight. This is really the best thing to happen to you guys. You both can trust us."

"Yeah," Joey added, "TRUST US BOTH."

The End. COPYRIGHT (2006)

Please stay tuned for the third and final concluding chapter of the Trust Us Trilogy: Trust Us 3.