Date: Sat, 28 Oct 2006 20:57:48 -0700
From: typetomark@hotmail.com
Subject: Trust Us 2

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.