From: Jackson Amacher <an14509@anon.nymserver.com>
Subject: Teen idol stripped (m/m, bond)
Date: 23 Feb 1997 00:18:26 GMT
Organization: wyoming.com LLC
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     Teen idol stripped
     by Jackson Amacher

     If you read the teen magazines as much as my sister
does, you would know that once-famous teen idol Charlie Wild
is attending Stanford University right now. You remember his
show: he played a teenager in the sixties, going first
through middle school and then high school, never attending
class but always dating and going to  dances. Everyone knows
that. What you probably don't know is that he is an asshole,
that he lives in my freshman dorm, and that I'm a bondage
freak with a taste for revenge.

     I won't get into everything the little shit did. Let's
just say that after years of being told he was God he
started believing it, and thinking that with 20 million
hormonal girls screaming every time he took his shirt off in
a locker room scene on his (now canceled) TV show he didn't
have to treat the ones he met here responsibly. Besides
that, he's conceited as hell. He hurt some people I'm close
to very much, and I decided to get back at him.

     Two weeks ago, Sunday, he got out of his room - he's
the only freshman at Stanford to have a single - and went to
take a shower. We have one bathroom on the entire floor. The
floors are single-sex, alternating with each floor. He only
took a towel and a small bathroom kit with him, which held
his keys. He always wore a bathrobe.

     It was too easy. As soon as he went in there, I
snatched away his bathroom kit, bathrobe, and keys. He
couldn't see me. The bathroom stall door is made of steel,
and he only had his towel hung over it. I snuck out of the
bathroom with his stuff and hid it in my room, two floors
above. I took his room key off his key ring and hid it in my
desk, taking the rest of the ring down to the first floor.

     I stood in the bathroom, pretending to brush my teeth.
It only took a few minutes for him to crack open the door
and reach for the shampoo and find that it wasn't there. I
saw the towel disappear into his stall, and Charlie emerged
with it wrapped around his waist.

     Jesus, he was hot. Some people are just born with it.
His pecs were incredibly cute; not body-builder huge, but
big enough to remind you he was a man. His abs weren't a
perfect six-pack, but there was a small ridge running from
his neck down to his towel that betrayed no fat and lots of
adorable skin and muscle.

     His face was also cute, especially with that confused
look. "What the hell?," he asked to no one in particular,
and his bare shoulders shrugged.

     I finished my tooth brushing, spat into the sink,
rinsed, and spat again. "Looking for these?," I asked,
dangling his key ring in front of him.

     "You asshole!," he shouted, and lunged for them.

     I pulled the keys back towards me and stepped out into
the hallway. He followed me, hesitating for a second before
entering the hallway, but then perhaps remembering that he
had already shown his naked chest to 50 million TV
households. He'd be showing a lot more soon.

     "Just kidding," I said. "Just a joke. Here, catch!" I
tossed them at him, up in the air. For one critical second,
his hands left his towel to catch the keys. Mine shot down
to his waist, grabbed, and snapped the terrycloth from his
body.

     Charlie jerked his hands down, trying to stop me, but
he was too late. The keys fell to the tile hallway, making a
loud jingling sound. Charlie covered his penis with his
hands, and bent his knees slightly. "You freaking pervert!,"
he shouted.

     "Freaking." The little PG matinee starlet said
"freaking." I was loving every second of it. By now I was
standing about ten feet away from him, two steps up the
stairs, the towel safely out of his reach.

     He stood there for a while longer: wet, shivering,
humiliated, furious, and trying to cover himself. Then he
turned around, bent down, and grabbed the keys off the
floor. He started to run towards me, but when I held the
towel far away from him he gave up and continued running
past me, as fast as he could, towards his room.

     I heard the keys jingling, as Charlie realized I had
removed his room key. "FUCK!," he shouted, a lot louder than
was smart.

     I started trotting up the stairs towards my third-floor
room again. I heard some seriously loud banging downstairs;
it sounded like someone trying to break a door down. I
stashed Charlie's towel under my bed, stuffed a few items
into my back pocket, and calmly walked back to the ground
floor to see how Charlie was doing.

     He had given up on trying to get back into his room,
and was pounding on other guys' doors in the hallway. The
first door he tried was a double, shared by two football
players, Chad and Brent. Chad opened the door to see Charlie
bare-ass naked, and he laughed.

     "Shut the fuck up and let me inside!," Charlie shouted
at him. But Chad - and, if I had calculated correctly,
everyone on this floor - hated Charlie as much as I did.

     "No way, Chuck," Chad said, smiling. "Hey Brent!," he
shouted over his shoulder. "Come see this!"

     Charlie ran away, furious, and started pounding on
other doors. Either this guy was eager to get the entire
dorm out of their rooms to check out his pubes, or he
thought he had a lot more friends than he did. The entire
hallway turned him flat down. Some of them made some phone
calls.

     After about ten minutes of this, there were eight guys
on his floor leering at him and a couple girls from the
second floor leaning over the stairway railing with big
smiles on their faces. Flushed and utterly humiliated,
Charlie had one hand over his dick (kind of) and another on
his ass and he walked over to me. "Fucking give me my key
back!," he shouted.

     "Say 'please,'" I said.

     "Please," he said.

     "Very good. Now turn around, hold your hands behind
your back, and I'll give it to you."

     A lot of computer users and audiophiles are frustrated
by the mess of cables that build up behind their systems.
Hardware stores offer a cheap solution: plastic cable ties,
100 for $5, that can securely tie cables together. These
things are great: they tighten quickly, with a single pull,
and can never be untightened. Only cut.

     I don't know if he was really expecting the key, but
the boy wonder did as he was told. Grabbing both hands
behind his back, I slipped a cable tie over them and pulled
tight. Instant reaction: he howled. The guys laughed from
their doorways. Then I pulled a blindfold out of my pocket,
and put it on him, too.

     "My room is number 305, Charlie, third floor," I said.
"Follow me."

     When I was in high school and Charlie's show was on the
air, I remember I watched an episode once because the promos
showed Charlie with his shirt off. In the actual episode,
his shirt was off for three seconds. The network was always
teasing you like that; they could never get their starlets
to show much more without paying a lot more in the contract,
I guess. But now, Charlie was treating a lot of people to a
much better view. I think his humiliation was made worse by
not being able to see all the smiling, taunting faces
watching his every move. Holding his shoulder, I led him up
to my third-floor suite. As I walked in front of him, people
applauded me and whistled at my catch.

     He came into my room, and I shut the door. "If you want
this to end fast, do what I say," told him.

     My camera came out. I used up a full roll of film on my
unwilling, bound subject. I think he started to cry. He was
all mine now. I untied his hands, and made him do some more
poses while I shot another role. Slowly, he got an erection.
That gave me an idea.

     "You want these to get out?," I asked. "Teen magazines?
Playgirl? The Internet?"

     He shook his head, "No."

     "Then you know what I want."

     He was mine; his gorgeous, late-adolescent body was all
there. I walked around his naked body a few times, trying to
increase his discomfort, and then reached out and softly
started to stroke his nipples. He jerked back at first,
realizing what was going to happen, but he didn't resist.
His cock was now fully erect, and dripping slightly. Hey,
who knew?

     I squirted some lube onto my other hand, and started
rubbing it on his hole. This took him by surprise; it was
for real now. He started to jerk away from me, but I grabbed
him, put him down on the bed, and tied his hands to the
bedposts. He gave out a little yelp when I first penetrated
him, but then started groaning softly as I pounded into him
for a good twenty or thirty minutes. It was great for me: I
had stripped and humiliated someone who had been taunting me
and millions of people with his sex for years, and now he
was mine.

     When I was done, I got up, shot some more photos of him
like that, and got dressed. He was still blindfolded, but he
could hear me. "Where are you going?," he asked, all
authority out of his voice.

     "I'm hungry," I said. "Sit tight."

     I opened the door and walked out, and went to eat some
lunch. I came back, maybe an hour later, and found my little
toy still tied to the bed. I untied him and took off the
blindfold. He looked at me for a second, and then kissed me,
long and hard in the mouth. I winked at him and gave him
back his towel and room key.