Date: Wed, 20 May 1998 10:41:39 -0700
From: dbrown@ggu.edu
Subject: A Shot in the Park

A SHOT IN THE PARK

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

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