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Review This Story || Author: whisky

Bad Move in Taos

Part 1

It had been a nasty divorce.


In this divorce case there was a clear loser, and he saw that person every morning in the mirror. Fortunately there were no children or there would be child support.  His ex-wife had hired a real hellcat of a lawyer who took him for nearly everything save the house.


Before all the unpleasantness, he and his then wife moved to Taos a couple of years ago, looking for a clean start.  She was a personal fitness trainer and he was a high school teacher.  During the summer break they decided to move west and he had found a job quickly.  She discovered North Taos, an artist community with a very high female to male ratio.  After a couple of weeks of getting to know the people and their hangouts, she felt comfortable putting up fliers advertising her training services.  In no time she had a large, steady client base of North Taos women.


It turns out that many of the women that reside in North Taos are lesbian.  She had only had casual contact with the lesbian community before and so really did not recognize that her entire client base was composed of lesbians during the first few weeks. She didn't care, their money spent just the same; but gradually, subtly, she was drawn into their world and in time began to resent men in general, and her husband specifically.  Eight months after they moved to Taos, she announced she was leaving him, moving to North Taos and wanted a divorce.


Her lawyer had taken the most intimate details of their married life and twisted it to a tale that made him the abusive spouse in every detail.  He wanted to settle but the lawyer wanted to humiliate him in court, and she did. The entire whirlwind of coming to Taos and having their marriage dissolve took less than 12 months.


Presently. she had been gone for two months; the medium-sized house was nearly bare except for the bedroom, where he ate his dinner, watched television and slept.  The other rooms were empty. As summer began and the school year was done, he received a phone call from his ex-wife. She decided she wanted the bed after all, and wanted it that night.  They had the expected heated exchanges but ultimately he knew she had the law on her side, she was entitled to everything but the house itself.  She said it would be collected tonight.  He hung up the phone and sighed.  As angry as he was, to get the bed cleared out would force him to finally sell the house and get on with his life.


An hour or so after she called, the doorbell rang.  When he opened the door, three women he didn't recognize stood before him: a long-haired brunette, a buzz-cut blond and a short-haired  redhead.  All of them were taller than his 5'6” frame, and they all seemed to be in pretty darn good shape.  The blond was clearly the brute of the bunch, but she was not overly muscular, just well built. They clearly would not need any help in moving the bed out of the house.  Two of them brushed past him on their way to the bedroom, obviously familiar with the layout and not even needing directions to the room.  The brunette stood there and said, “We're taking the bedroom stuff and whatever else is left. Only the house is yours.” Her companions grabbed and walked out the front door with a chair and the night stand.  When they came back in they unplugged the television and took it from the wall. “Hey, can't you leave that? Surely she has her own TV in lesbo land!”, he said, realizing perhaps too late that he had just insulted three very fit women with one utterance.


The brunette woman grabbed him and tackled him to the carpeted floor .  The other two put the television down and watched with smirks on their faces.  As he struggled to get this woman off his body she pulled from her waistband a long black plastic cable tie.  As she began to subdue her opponent the redhead ran to the front door and closed it.  He was not strong enough to buck the brunette off him but he was able to keep his arms under his body he could see the plastic tie and knew what she was planning.


He began to grunt and twist in a renewed effort to throw her off his back.  The other girls just sat and watched as the brunette eventually turned him over onto his back and cinched the cable tie onto his wrists in front.  Once his hands were secured he began to scream, this was the cue for the blond to pull out a bandana she was carrying in her back pocket and stuff into his bleating mouth.  Properly muffled, the redhead then took some packing tape she had seen in the bedroom and wrapped his gag into place, four or five turns around his uncooperative head.


Now that he was well gagged, they grabbed his arms, the blond produced a knife to snip the cable tie holding the wrists and  folded his arms behind him.  He struggled against them as best he could but each woman was far stronger than he, and he had to try to free himself against all three.  His stifled pleas were  pathetic as the girls once again zipped the cable tie on his wrists, this time behind his back and zipped very tight.  A tie was applied to his ankles, then another was used to create a hogtie, the wrists drawn painfully up to touch his ankles.  The redhead then grabbed the plastic tie linking  the hogtie and roughly dragged him to the center of the empty living room, away from the front door.


Three thin plastic cable ties were all that held this man from freedom, yet they rendered him helpless as the women freely went back to work clearing out the bedroom.


After the bedroom was clear, the girls noticed his keys and wallet on the floor.  The blond grabbed them, took out the ATM card and walked over to the bound homeowner.  She leaned down to their captive, grabbed a hank of his hair and pulled his face to hers - “You'd better give me the right numbers for this account or you will really be sorry”.  He grunted defiance and tried to struggle away from her grasp.  The redhead rolled his body to the side with her foot and kicked him in the groin. A couple of moments after the searing pain subsided, he saw he really had no choice, so he shook his head in agreement.  His gag was roughly cut off, just enough to get the bandana out of his mouth.  After he gave them numbers they balled the bandana plus a couple of his dress socks into his mouth and re-gagged him with the tape again, this time sealing it much better than before.  Another sock was tied around his eyes and that sock, too, was fastened with winds of tape around his head.  Only a slight moan could escape his nose now, his mouth was sealed.  It was already virtually pitch black to him as the three of them turned off all the lights, locked the house up and drove to the nearest ATM a few miles away.


He was alone now, he had counted three sets of footsteps leading out of the house. He knew they'd only be gone a few minutes, perhaps 30 or 40, before they would come roaring back into the house.  He had given them the wrong numbers.


He tested the bonds, they were not coming off without a knife.  He rolled around and made his way to a wall to get his bearings; after 15 minutes he managed somehow tumble his way to the kitchen. The few kitchen knives and utensils he had left were in a drawer that would require him to be at least somewhat upright to try to knock the drawer to the floor.  As he struggled to find a place to wedge himself he heard the next door neighbors outside, obviously having a Friday night cookout.


Knowing his salvation was just a few feet away, he rolled and rolled until he could get enough momentum to rock himself into an upright position.  Nearly exhausted and dripping with sweat, he somehow found a way to push the drawer open with his nose, stabbing at the drawer multiple times until he slid it open.  When he felt it was nearly off its railing he sort of 'jumped' a bit and knocked the drawer with the top of his head.  A small paring knife tumbled out of the drawer and skittered across the floor, sounding as if it went to the left.  In his current tightly bound and blindfolded state, that was one full roll if he could control his fall from upright to lying on his side, assuming he correctly judged the sound.  He toppled over and hit hard on his shoulder, and carefully rolled.  No knife!  He squirmed and probed with his feet and hands, strapped as they were.  He rolled around again until his back felt the handle of the knife.


After another 15 minutes of struggling to hold the blade, then finding it need to be turned over, he fumbled it again, frantically reaching until he found it once more.  He was absolutely soaked in perspiration now, and this made it difficult to grasp the blade as he attempted to free himself of the hogtie.  Five minutes later he had managed to cut the tie holding his wrists and ankles as one.  His legs and back cramped severely but knew he had to hurry.


With his arms now free of his ankles he was able to contort himself to a standing position.  He could partially see out of the bottom of his blindfold now that the tape holding the sock in place was wet, so he hopped to a kitchen drawer that had a knob on it. He used that to pry up and off his blindfold, scratching the side of his face in the process.  But now he could see somewhat, although the house was very dark.  He began to hop to the back door, which led into the garage but ultimately to his backyard, when he saw headlights swing into his driveway and a car came zooming up to the garage.  The mechanical door groaned to life as it opened; he saw this as his last chance to escape, the door cycle would take several seconds.


He turned and hopped huge strides to get to the front door before the women returned.  As he got to the door he heard the car pulling in and he balanced, turned around and reached for the door lock.  As car doors opened and slammed he was able to open and close the front door without additional noise.  He then began his trek of hopping as quickly as possible to his next door neighbor's house.  Leaping as best he could, he reached the short little chain link fence separating his driveway and property from his neighbor's.  He could see the lights were on in his own house and he'd been discovered missing by now, so he did all he could do to cross the fence.  He leaned and fell over the railing.


But just as he was to hit the ground, he was suspended in mid-air; the hated blond had caught his arms and kept him from the other side of the fence.  The blond then threw him to the small patch of grass along the driveway and held him face down, pinching his nose so the sound was reduced.  The butch blond then stood him up, crouched down in front of him and threw him over her shoulder, carrying him effortlessly like a roll of carpet.  He bucked and screamed but could make no noise audible enough for the cookout next door to hear.  The amazon barely stifled an evil chuckle as she carried the hapless victim back into his house.


The brunette was waiting at the front door and closed and locked it as soon as their prisoner was returned.  The blond unceremoniously dropped the bound man onto the carpeting in the cavernous den.  The blond then snatched his head off the floor, turned it to her gnarling face, and said in a low voice, “You gave us the wrong numbers.  That was a bad move, pig.”


This whole operation took on a different tone than when it started, all of the participants seemed to sense.  The three women were going to empty the house as per their friend, the ex-wife.  Once the action began, the bound male knew he was in for a tough night but didn't get the idea he was in any real danger until now.  His escape attempt alerted the women that he had seen their faces and could go to the police; that was not even on their radar until now, this had seemed almost like a rough game.  The brunette grabbed one of his arms, nodded at the other arm, “Help me drag this worm to the bedroom”.  And with that, he was harshly lugged into his old master bedroom.  The redhead turned off all the lights in the front part of the house.


With the blinds and curtains drawn, the house was very dark from the outside, if anyone bothered to look. He was becoming very concerned as they discussed his captivity. 


The brunette began the conversation. ”What do you ladies think we should do with this? I think we should bundle him up and take him with us and decide our next steps at our house. Thoughts?”


The redhead offered:”I'm not so sure we should take him to our place, do we want him to see where she lives?”


The blond: “How about we take him to the storage shed where we are taking the extra furniture? Then perhaps we could have some quality time with him.”

The brunette: ”You're thinking of using some of your 'equipment' on him, aren't you?  Are you sure you're gay?”


The blond: “Hell, I'm thinking of using ALL of my equipment, you guys are scared to play rough with me.  He'll have no choice and I can play as rough as I want.”


The redhead: “Maybe we can video the session, show it to his ex later.  Providing you don't get out of hand, of course.”


The blond: “No promises.  Let's make it inescapable.  We'll need to change the bondage.  Let's strip him and re-bind him.  When we get to the shed I can get my leather harnesses, gags and toys, but the cable ties and duct tape will do for now.”


With that settled, the women unbuckled his pants and dragged the trousers and underwear down to his ankles. Then with one lady on either leg, his ankle tie was cut and the trousers and boxers pulled off. Struggling for all he was worth but having no success, a new cable tie quickly encircled the trapped ankles  and pulled tight. A second tie was added below his knees, a third just above.  The girls couldn't help but laugh at his pathetic attempts to break free and now they had his exposed cock to laugh at as well.


His dress shirt was soaked through with sweat from the night's proceedings. “Let's just cut the shirt off, it's so wet and gross,” the redhead remarked.  With that, the blond pulled out her jack knife from a back pocket and began slicing and tearing the shirt.  The brunette pulled the belt off  his trousers and wrapped it across his chest, pinning his arms to his body and buckled it to complete the upper body entrapment.  More struggling simply elicited more laughter from the women.


Noticing that he had managed to scrape off the blindfold, partially due to the flimsiness of the packing tape, the brunette went out to the rented moving van and grabbed a roll of silver duct tape.  She showed the blond she had new tape and the blond moved to his head: “There's a new gag in town! Ha!”  And with that, she cut the tape holding the packing in place.  As she pulled the old tape off his head the redhead moved behind him and firmly fixed her right hand over his mouth, clamping it closed better than the packing tape. The brunette then started to peel off the duct tape, attached it to the back of his head and wound it very tightly across his mouth.  The first turn actually forced his lips apart and the cloth moved dangerously close to choking. Many turns of the tape roll later he was so thoroughly and tightly gagged the three captors watched as his head turn a little red.  Another few turn of tape and a bit of smoothing across his eyes, and his world was reduced to sound.


They then stood their prisoner up and turned the tape across his waist and around his back to trap his wrists to the small of his back.  Several wraps were required to satisfy everyone.  His clothes were gathered up and taken to his car in the garage.  The blond then loaded him up again across her broad shoulders, slapping his ass and chuckling about her easy dominance.  As he bobbed along in her muscular embrace, he heard the redhead walk in front of them to open the garage door.  The blond felt a little poke into her shoulder and saw he had a little hard on going.  “Don't worry, pussy boy, we'll make sure that doesn't happen any more without permission”. The redhead saw what she was talking about and laugh-snorted.  The two of them loaded him into the back seat of his own car, using the seat belts to strap him down.


The brunette went into the kitchen and found some handy wipes that she used to wipe down all the surfaces that the ladies had potentially touched, with the exception of the front door.  The garage door opened and the redhead went to start the truck.  The brunette turned all the lights off, wiped down all light switches, then used a few handy wipes to open and lock the front door.  She walked to the truck and hopped in.  The truck backed out, the car soon followed.  He could hear the garage door close as the car pulled out of the driveway.  He couldn't move a muscle.



Review This Story || Author: whisky
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