Ever heard of the phrase ‘fuck around and find out?’ Leisra hasn’t. Still, he’ll very quickly learn why it’s a bad idea to snoop around in abandoned haunts where cuties like him go missing. Big thanks to  trevhart~ for the image! Go check out his gallery for more cute art like so.

And now - story time: (1k words)

People fell for such superstitious rumours. Mysterious disappearances and tales of evil spirits warded off any visitors to the abandoned mansion. Their loss. An un-looted manor might as well have been a sparkling goldmine to Leisra. He zipped up the back of his leather thieving suit and rubbed his gloved hands together. This was going to be such an easy operation - he’d be in and out in a flash. He opened the creaking grand door, stepped in, and the door slammed behind him, alerting the spirits of the dead.

A hand tugged at his wrist.

Leisra’s head whipped down to his wrist, looking for the hand of his assailant… A spectral ghost hand grasped him. It had no arm.

“The fuck?!” The goat jumped in surprise, adrenaline making him spring from the floor. He tried to brush the ghost hand away, only for a second green hand to grasp his other wrist; keeping his arms pinned to his sides. “What the-?” He shimmied his shoulders. It had literally only been ten seconds but he was already in trouble. A third spectral hand groped his chest - it’s fingers slipping beneath the heart cut-out of his outfit, fondling his fluffy chest fur beneath. “O-oh!” Leisra blushed at the sudden attention, realising the ghosts intentions were not sinister, but altogether more kinky. The reason people went missing here was suddenly becoming very clear.

The sound of ripping tape unspooling from a roll confirmed his fears. Very slowly, hoping the ghosts wouldn’t notice, Leisra took a cautious step backwards, but two hands caught the backs of his thick thighs. Their gentle squeeze bid that he be still. Sticky adhesive wrapped around his thin waist, efficiently looping around him, roll after roll wrapped him up, trailing from navel to rib, catching the backs of his arms in the process, keeping them restrained. He had lost count of the amount of hands that touched him; everything was happening so fast. His hands were balled into useless silver mitts, and his thighs rubbed together in their tape bondage. He couldn’t move. Between his legs, something awakened in response.

“Oh for fuck’s sake-” He rolled his eyes. This wasn’t the time. But everything was happening so fast. The hands at his legs were stroking his thighs, moving up to his ass. With a sharp tug a hand finished wrapping the tape around him, tightening it like a corset, robbing him of air that came out of his mouth in a sharp gasp. Leisra knew he had to be sly. Ninjas were supposed to have contingencies. Plus - Leisra could be very flexible - he’d like to think he could wriggle out of a tight spot… but when things were happening so fast, sometimes adrenaline took over, forcing you to make rookie mistakes.

“Someone HEL-mmmph!” Stuffing entered his mouth when he opened it to scream. His head was jerked back by a blue cloth that instantly smothered his lips. When the ghosts knotted the gag up, he tried to struggle.

“Mmmmf…!”

And realised he had already lost. Nothing gave. The sound of crinkling tape was louder then his own pleas. Not only was he wrapped up, but the spectral hands were stripping him of his leotard and tights. And, when his fluffy white fur was revealed, there was no ignoring one simple fact. He was very hard.

***

All that was left was the finishing details; such as bondage that did nothing to restrain him, but looked so much more appealing to those that captured him. From waist to neck, he was wrapped and mummified, though a small slit was left open for the nipples. Leisra, already so aroused, felt needy just from the cold air that brushed them. So his body nearly buckled over once the hands stroked his nipples.

Luckily, the hands were there to catch him, repositioning him so the near mummified boy stayed upright in his bondage. A playful hand smacked him on the side of his hip when he regained his balance.

“Urrrngh…” The ninja moaned in frustration. Whomever that hand belonged to, the goat resolved that that ghost would die first once he got free of his bondage. In an attempt to one-up the molesting ghost, another hand floated towards him, a wand vibrator grasped in its hand.

“Hhhy! Dhhhnt!” Leisra shook his head and struggled, but a second layer of gag enveloped his mouth, this time reaching as far as the cheeks. It was tied away so tightly the cheek fat was squeezed up against the eyelids. It turned all gagspeak incomprehensible, the goat only able to make the same wailing, moaning noises of a dismayed ghost.

The vibrator was pushed between his thighs. He rubbed them too and fro, trying to wriggle it back out, but the hands kept taping it back in, incorporating it within the bondage. It was so tight and secure, he couldn’t even move the wand’s head an inch.

When the vibe was turned on, in a moment of weakness, the goat wandered if he’d even wanted to win anymore.

“Mmmf…!” His body bowed from the pleasure, sweat trickling from his brow. His dick raised to full mast. Then started throbbing. When another hand groped it and rubbed from tip to shaft, he started *leaking*. God help him, he could feel the warmth in his blushing cheeks. He couldn’t even remember the last time domination made him so flustered. So many hands, an unfathomable number, had him tied up and played with, and they were touching him all over. He didn’t even know which sensation to focus on. The best he could do was tense his body, trying not to climax, since he knew that, on this long night, the ghosts would try to milk their captive for all his worth.

The only hand that didn’t touch him hovered in front of his cool blue eyes and issued a command. The hand pointed at a set of stairs, ordering him to move up the grand staircase.

“Mhmhmhm~!” Laughing through his gag, Leisra pleaded no. His chest was bound up, as well as his arms, thighs and ankles. There was no way in hell he could move. But the hand insisted.

…So he hopped.

“Mmf! Mmf! Mmmmf!” He squeaked with every hop. The hands granted him no courtesy, still grasping and pinching with every jump. The pinched nipple was most excruciating, yet Leisra tarried on. He arrived at the stairs. “Mmmmf?” Leisra tilted his head, issuing the ordering hand a questioning look. Did it really expect him to hop all the way up the stairs?

“Mmf?” At first, he thought one of the hands had come to squeeze his thighs, only to “MMF!” Squeal when another clasped behind his thigh and a third swept him off his feet. Tied up and writhing, the hands lifted him up the stairs in a bridal carry. They then carried him across the hallway, into the Master bedroom.

Once it was open, a chorus of moaning leaped out. In the old, dilapidated room, hundreds of cocooned, silver mummified bodies wormed and squirmed, all indistinguishable from one another. The ghosts guided him to the double bed, where he rested face-to-face with another squirming mummified body, it’s head rested on a pillow. The ghosts most recent victim, in all likelihood. The only distinguishing feature of this bound boy was a curled cat’s tail, brown and dipped black at the end.

“Mmmf…” Leisra huffed terrified (and slightly thrilled) he might meet the same fate. Mockingly, the hands pulled the cover over his bound body, and a hand petted the top of the goat’s headfur, as if it was heeding him a good night’s rest.

“Mmmf…” Leisra growled, vowing vengeance on the ghost as the bedroom door slammed shut, locking him in with the rest of the victims. If he didn’t want to end up like them - another faceless trophy added to their collection - he needed to leave before the night ended, because he had heard the rest of the superstitious tale. At first he dismissed it, but he now believed every word.

It was said that those who entered the manor at night needed to leave before the crack of dawn. For if you were arrested the whole night in the manor, your soul would be bound to the place. Permanently.

“Hhhhf…!” Leisra stretched out his lithe body, desperate to find a fault in his tape. He had six hours till dawn.

He needed to escape. Fast.