THE ADVENTURES OF GABRIEL - A COLLECTION OF SHORT ACCOUNTS (M/m) *NEW CHAPTER*

[4toes]

Daddy!!! Great short story sir! Really enjoyed reading it. Thank you again for your hard work in creating these stories.

[Mummybag]

Great story again… to bad i’ve never had a sleepover-party like that!
Sounds like a long night ahead for the boys

[bondagefreak]

Hey, thanks for the comments @ChairBoy, @Lovethemsocks, @4toes and @Mummybag. I'm glad you guys liked this latest account. @jammer212, I'll also be adding you to the tag-list on this story, seeing as how you mentioned enjoying it in your comment on HAZED BY THE WRESTLING TEAM (M+/M).

Just a quick heads up to let you guys know a short two-part account will be added to this thread. The name of this thread, which is currently "MY SMELLY-FOOTED STEPDAD'S SURPRISE SLEEPOVER SHENANIGANS" will change to better reflect the collection short, self-contained experiences our narrator intends to share here.

As made evident by the new banner, the next account to be featured will have a little something special for my good friends @Stormee, @puffalover, @Mummybag, @ChairBoy and @The WinterShuffle. Stay tuned, guys!

____________________________________

If you're looking for something similar to read in the meantime, I'd recommend checking out @squirrel's BD - BONDAGE DIARY (M/m)

[bondagefreak]

THANKS FOR ALL THE GREAT COMMENTS, GUYS.
I REALLY APPRECIATE THE SUPPORT!

OUR NARRATOR DECIDED TO SHARE THE NEXT PART OF HIS PERSONAL JOURNEY WITH US.
HOPE YOU GUYS ENJOY THIS AS MUCH AS THE PREVIOUS EPISODE. CHEERS!


@BoudBoy22 @Stormee @Socksbound @socjuc @Wedgieboy69 @Pup @thespy @OrdinaryWorld @squirrel @ShadowHusky @Ossassin @sock slave boy @vincenzotognolo22 @Blue Ice @ChairBoy @Pup Wingletang @Smythdean @GoBucks @4toes @jammer212 @Mummybag @Lovethemsocks @Pleasurechip95

[bondagefreak]

AUTHOR'S NOTES
THIS IS A DIRECT CONTINUATION OF OUR NARRATOR'S FIRST ACCOUNT.
IF YOU HAVEN'T READ THE FIRST ACCOUNT, GO BACK TO THE FIRST PAGE OF THIS THREAD.

AS ALWAYS, READING AT A SLOW PACE COMES HIGHLY RECOMMENDED.
RESPECT THE USE OF PUNCTUATION AND PAY CLOSE ATTENTION TO WORDS IN ITALIC LETTERS.
THE EXTRA EMPHASIS YOU PLACE ON THEM WILL GREATLY IMPROVE YOUR COMPREHENSION OF THIS TEXT.

GABRIEL'S SECOND ACCOUNT

SELF-BONDAGE GONE WRONG
PART I OF II

Hey all! It's me, Gabriel! Listen, I wasn't really planning on coming back here and sharing more stuff with you, but then I saw all the great comments you guys left me and I thought to myself 'Ah, what the hell. I may as well share the rest of my experiences with them.' Seeing as how I'm not much of a writer, I honestly wasn't expecting such lively a reception.

Having said that, I'll try to spare you guys the pain of listening to me blabber and I'll get right into the thick of things. Hopefully, some of you will find this embarrassing experience of mine as interesting as what my mum's burly fiancé did to poor Jake and Brendan a while back. If you do, please don't forget to let me know.


So yeah, I guess I'll just start out by saying that participating in the forceful binding of my friends and watching my mum's freakishly jumbo-soled boyfriend turn his own harrowingly pungent socks into makeshift gags ended up having a somewhat lasting effect on me. I can't really explain it. I felt really weird and sort of...excited during the whole tying-up process. I'm not exaggerating when I say that watching burly Jeff stuff his own week-old work socks into our bound prisoners' mouths, tape their faces shut and tighten their already excessive restraints left my impressionable mind both scarred and addled. It really did. To the point where I could hardly bring myself to think about anything else, even for weeks and months on end.

I'm still not sure how to accurately describe the way I felt that day. Perhaps it was partial excitement at the fact that I'd participated in the restraining of my friends. I mean, I genuinely enjoyed that. But there was also something else. A peculiar sense of envy and perhaps even a desire to experience firsthand what Jake and Brendan had been put through. Or rather, some of what they'd been put through. Not all of it.


Calling Jeff's place my home and having become familiar with the downright severe odour that afflicted his gargantuan soles - not to mention the poor sock-changing habits that had for consequence of amplifying the problem - the idea of being silenced with one of his positively fuming stink-bombs didn't enthuse me in the slightest. Quite the opposite, in fact. It terrified me!





In any case, the experience of binding my two friends, covering their mouths with my hands for many minutes on end and then teasing them silly after they'd been properly gagged - thanks to Jeff - left me both addled and envious.

I began experimenting quite a bit during the weeks and months that followed the impromptu sleepover party. It wasn't anything too serious at first. I mean, I would basically roll myself up in my bedsheets; placing my legs together and my arms at my sides before rolling around on my bed and wrapping myself up like some sort of human burrito.

The constriction felt strange.
Strange in a good way that is.

I eventually did the same with my comforter and found even more enjoyment due to the added constriction it provided.

I grew bolder in the weeks that followed, to the point where I would regularly slip into the spacious Master bedroom and wrap myself up in Jeff's lofty duvet every time I was alone at home...which turned out to be quite often considering the fact that I finished school earlier than mum and her fiancé arrived from work.

I still remember coming home from school, jumping in the shower and then using the alone time that preceded their arrival to sneak into their bedroom and mummify myself in the thick duvet that covered their large bed. The constriction was very real, to the point where my own bedsheets and admittedly thin comforter no longer satisfied me the way they used to.

I of course wanted more, and with that desire and my own imminent emergence into proper adulthood, I grew bolder. Bolder, and perhaps a little bit less cautious.



I'd often visited Jeff's musty old basement storage closet. The impressive clutter of climbing gear, sporting goods and camping equipment had me mesmerised. Of even greater interest to me was the fact that the closet was filled with rope. So much rope!

My almost daily visits to the garage workshop also became one of the high points of my late adolescence. Countless were the times my fingers had longingly brushed against the glaringly massive rolls of extremely sticky-looking black gaffer tape and wide industrial-grade duct tape that silently decorated the sawdust-coated workshop. The sight, the smell, the feel of them...I don't know why, but it just excited me in a way that few other things did.

Going through the seemingly numberless drawers and boxes adorning Jeff's dusty workshop also revealed a broad collection of zip-ties; the lot of which ranged from short and thin to downright huge and intimidating.


As far as I recall, my first truly memorable experience came when I arrived home from school one Friday and excitedly marched my shorts-clad self down to the basement storage closet.

My hungry gaze danced over the collection of assorted rope before eventually settling on one of the old sleeping bags that had recently caught my eye for some reason. The sleeping bag itself didn't really excite me much, but judging from the sight of it, the potential constriction it could offer was undoubtedly far superior to that which I'd experienced so far. Suffice it to say, Jeff's bags were all very fat, and this one especially was no exception to the rule.





I still remember standing there, nervously running my fingers across its super silky dark green exterior and questioning myself as to whether or not I should sneak it up into my bedroom and give it a quick test run. I usually had an hour or two to myself before Jeff and mum got home, but the time of their arrival varied somewhat depending on traffic and other circumstances. In short, even though I wanted more than anything else to fully enjoy and indulge my passions, the threat of being caught still weighed rather heavily on my mind.

I actually recall looking at the time, hesitating a bit and then mentally coaching myself into quelling my own apprehension.

As soon as I picked the old bag up and began carrying it out of the basement, my heart felt as though it would beat its way out of my chest and my excitement became palpable.

Even in a tightly rolled-up state, the bag's incredible heft and cumbersome size left little doubt as to the immense loftiness of its synthetic insulation. Jeff's duvet was real nice and lofty, but his old bags - especially this heavy green one - looked even more promising.

For reasons as yet unknown to my mind, the fact that Jeff's initials - J.S - were clearly displayed on the bloated bag's yellowing manufacturer label excited me greatly. Is that weird? I don't know. Either way, the positively ancient-looking label betrayed years of heavy use and the promise of a somewhat more personal experience. That is, as personal as a self-bondage session could be.



Without going into too many unnecessary details, unfurling the old bag and spreading it across my bed did not disappoint. Not even in the slightest. Quite the opposite. My expectations were high, but the baffling thickness and extreme heft of its loft left me openmouthed and speechless. Wrapping myself up in this immensely hefty thing would be downright amazing, I knew. It was so much thicker than the duvet!

The only downside, as I quickly came to realise, was the smell. Jeff's old bag didn't only come with yellowing manufacturer tags and a lint-ball-infested, brushed cotton interior. It came with heavy signs of overuse and a disturbingly poignant smell.

Less than a minute after being splayed open and laid out across the bed, the earthy musk of my mother's handsome boyfriend filled my room up and grew thick in my nostrils.

I clearly remember being a bit annoyed with the smell and taken aback by the potency of its muskiness, but my initial misgivings about Jeff's bag immediately took a figurative backseat as soon as I climbed into bed and laid down on top of it.

The loft was otherworldly and soothingly accommodated my mostly naked, shorts-clad body. A satisfaction beyond words filled me as I positioned myself on one end of the mattress and slowly spun my scrawny body around; trapping my legs together and pinning my arms real close to my sides in the process.

The superimposed layers of potent-smelling loft smothered my face with the seemingly malicious intent of ending my life and suffocating me, but even so, I couldn't stop from further mummifying myself into burly Jeff's mind-bogglingly fat bag and basking to the sound of my own hopelessly well-muffled ecstasy.

This was bliss, I thought to myself. Pure, unbridled bliss.
That was probably the first time I can say with utmost certainty that I experienced real, palpable arousal.



It continued like that over the course of several weeks; me running down to the hunky man-of-the-house's musty closet and using the fleeting moments of alone time I had to indulge in my own fantasies. Time after time I would go for Jeff's sleeping bags, and time after time I would snatch up and run off with his mesmerisingly fat, trusty old green one.





The bag was well past its 'best before' date, in the sense that it stank of its owner and smelled every bit as strong and as musty as the old closet it was kept in. But even though it had seen years - if not decades - of heavy overuse, the unparalleled thickness of its loft left me quivering with excitement.

It was to the point where I eventually threw caution out of the window and decided to treat myself to nightly self-bondage sessions by keeping the old bag in the relative seclusion of my own bedroom. Besides, Jeff hardly ever went down to check up on his cluttered storage closet. And even if he did, it's not as though he'd notice the absence of one sleeping bag. Not when there were several others amid the clutter.

Still, being reasonably smart and well thought-out for my age - I think - I preventatively conjured up and recited a bunch of excuses as to why I'd carried the bag all the way up to my room and stashed it in my closet...just in case Jeff did take note of its absence and decide to investigate.

Fortunately for me, it never came to that. But as you're about to find out, my own unwittingly self-inflicted episode of deep embarrassment and shame would be all the same.

INTERESTED IN THIS STORY? WANT A FOLLOW-UP CHAPTER?
LET ME KNOW IN THE COMMENTS!
IF YOU'RE NOT YET REGISTERED, TAKE A MINUTE TO SIGN UP AND JOIN THIS AWESOME COMMUNITY!

[Stormee]

Oh Gabriel, clearly going over your head here. If Jeff finds out and catches you, you're going to be in trouble. Especially for being a sneaky devil to your parent's room to roll yourself in a duvet. Great work, @bondagefreak. Can't wait to see part 2 of his adventure gone wrong.

[ChairBoy]

I don’t think I’ve related to a character more in your stories! Gabriel definitely I think at least from this second chapter reminds me a lot of myself! Can’t wait to hear what happens next!

[Ossassin]

Now with a tail end like that on your story, I’ll confess to being interested.

[vincenzotognolo22]

I hope that Gabriel will be punished soon by his step-dad! By the way, great story bro, Gabriel is such a relatable character

[bondagefreak]

I don’t think I’ve related to a character more in your stories! Gabriel definitely I think at least from this second chapter reminds me a lot of myself! Can’t wait to hear what happens next!

By the way, great story bro, Gabriel is such a relatable character

I'm really glad to hear this. I know this account won't be popular and that it won't really speak to many on here, but I'm glad you guys are able to relate to our narrator and see yourselves through his first experimental forays into bondage. The fact that you both can relate to him is pretty much 'mission accomplished' for me. Hopefully, there are some others on here who can also relate to Gabe a little. Cheers!

[Mummybag]

This realy sounds like a great story already… but you know that a story with the sleepingbaga makes is good fast.

I can only hope Gabriel is taking it to the test very quickly en will be surprised by an unexpexted visitor who is in to this game too!!

[Pleasurechip95]

I definitely want more and hope that you continue

[Socksbound]

Oh Gabriel!! You’re about to do something us readers are going to really enjoy and possibly a little jealous about

[bondagefreak]

THANKS FOR ALL THE GREAT COMMENTS, GUYS.
I REALLY APPRECIATE THE SUPPORT!

HOPE YOU GUYS ENJOY THIS CHAPTER. CHEERS!


@BoudBoy22 @Stormee @Socksbound @socjuc @Wedgieboy69 @thespy @OrdinaryWorld @squirrel @ShadowHusky @Ossassin @sock slave boy @vincenzotognolo22 @Blue Ice @ChairBoy @Pup Wingletang @Smythdean @GoBucks @4toes @jammer212 @Mummybag @Lovethemsocks @Pleasurechip95 @puffalover @noarmgr @tapegagged08 @Tsuhaya

[bondagefreak]

AUTHOR'S NOTES
AS ALWAYS, READING AT A SLOW PACE COMES HIGHLY RECOMMENDED.
RESPECT THE USE OF PUNCTUATION AND PAY CLOSE ATTENTION TO WORDS IN ITALIC LETTERS.
THE EXTRA EMPHASIS YOU PLACE ON THEM WILL GREATLY IMPROVE YOUR COMPREHENSION OF THIS TEXT.

GABRIEL'S SECOND ACCOUNT

SELF-BONDAGE GONE WRONG
PART II OF II

My little fantasy world came crashing down on a fateful Saturday night when Jeff left me alone at home to take my mum out on a romantic late-night restaurant date. I enjoyed the evening and spent much of it playing one of the new video games I'd recently purchased, but with a decent amount of time left to kill and the promise of at least another hour or two before the lovebirds got back, I decided to experiment a bit and once again indulge my growing urges.

Watching videos - mostly on websites I probably shouldn't have been visiting - and reading stories online further cemented my strange desires, but more than anything else, it was the act of physically binding my two friends and watching both of them get their mouths stuffed and taped shut by my mum's buff boyfriend that ignited the fires of my imagination.

My grades had started suffering a bit as a result, but no matter how much I tried to forget what had happened that day, I just couldn't seem to shake the thought of it. As such, self-bondage became a sort of mental escape, and I found myself very regularly indulging in my passions, thanks in no small part to the blissful constriction I could offer myself using Jeff's absurdly fat sleeping bag.


That Saturday would be a bit different though. I mean, I would indulge my own passions pretty much the same way I usually did, but this time I wanted something more. This time, I wanted a gag.

You can probably imagine the level of excitement coursing through my veins as I scampered over to the dusty workshop and visually scanned the impressive array of potential gagging materials.

I hesitated at first, going back and forth between the super sticky roll of black gaffer tape and the fiercely intimidating roll of heavy-duty duct tape. The gaffer tape proved a mighty temptation, but I eventually settled for the industrial-grade duct tape - the same dauntingly cumbersome roll Jeff had used to silence Jake and Brendan.





I ran up to the washroom; heavy tape in hand and the glaring signs of excitement clearly visible in the prominent tenting of my red polyester basketball shorts. Positioning myself in front of the large mirror allowed me to gaze at my own reflection even as I tore the tape open and forcibly yanked off a sizeable piece of it.

The deafening growl that filled my ears instantly had for effect of sending additional blood flow to my angrily tenting shorts. The sound was eerily similar to that which had greeted my ears during Jeff's impromptu sleepover intervention many months ago. In fact, it was the same sound. The same deep, angry, dissonant growl.


Plastering the broad slab of tape over my mouth felt a bit strange at first. The fibrous adhesive eagerly clung to the hairless skin of my cheeks and easily moulded itself to the underside of my chin; covering my lower face all the way up to my nostrils.

I admired myself in the washroom mirror for a bit, taking in the sight of my gagged mouth and moving my lips around in a simulated attempt to gain freedom from the tape. If the width of the adhesive hadn't been revealing enough, the rather astounding stickiness of it confirmed what I already knew. This wasn't the cheap convenience store stuff. This was serious, heavy-duty industrial-grade duct tape. The best of the best, and undoubtedly the stickiest.

I knew I could - probably with some difficulty - pry it off with my fingers, but it pleased me immensely to know that I would be hard-pressed to do so using only my lips and jaw muscles. Even my most spirited attempts at articulating a complaint and spreading my lips apart failed to make a dent in the silver adhesive's uncompromising grip.

This was going to be perfect. Absolutely perfect, I remember thinking to myself.


Wasting no more time than necessary, I grabbed the heavy tape and marched my gagged-self over to the privacy of my own bedroom. The sight of Jeff's tightly rolled-up sleeping bag greeted me as I entered; its downright imposing size dwarfing my pillows and taking up a rather significant portion of the normally more spacious-looking twin-sized mattress.





I had a lot of fun over the course of the next half-hour. And I really do mean a lot of fun. I rolled myself up into what can only be described as the fattest of cocoons, mmmphed under my blissfully sticky tape gag and wiggled around as best I could; flaring my nostrils inside the bag's monumentally smothering loft and taking in giant whiffs of its owner's disturbingly poignant musk.

Things came to a temporary halt when, in my careless efforts to wiggle around and have fun, my immensely bloated form tumbled off to the side of the mattress and came crashing down to the floor. Of course, being surrounded by no less than half a meter of heavy insulating loft on all sides, the fall that would've normally winded me had no effect other than to make me gasp in surprise.

I wiggled around in an attempt to free myself from Jeff's bag and regain my position on the bed, but it didn't take very long for me to realise the potentially problematic predicament I'd accidentally landed in.

My hopelessly cocooned body wasn't just lying on the floor. It was stuck between the wall and my heavy bed frame; leaving me in a rather fun but admittedly quite precarious position.


I tried to escape again, this time using my abdominal muscles and legs to try and sorta worm my way out of the cramped area. Unfortunately for me, the bag was too fat and the proximity of my bed prevented me from wiggling around at all, leaving me out of breath and no closer to freedom. And so I just lay there, catching my breath, realising I was stuck and growing more and more annoyed with the torturously musky scent of Jeff's infernally fat sleeping bag.

I mmmphed, more out of light frustration than serious desperation. The poignant scent wafting out of the bag's immensely smothering loft was growing more annoying and offensive by the minute, but even my most genuine attempts at ridding myself of the now tiresome tapegag yielded no success.


It's only upon struggling for freedom and repeatedly failing to free myself of the gag that I realised I was genuinely trapped and left with no clear means of escaping Jeff's maddeningly bloated bag. The realisation predictably led to some disturbingly dark thoughts and a bout of desperation-induced panic. But it didn't take long for the angry arousal in my shorts to get the better of me and for my mind to realise that this was actually what I'd been longing for all along.

This was bondage. Actual, real bondage.

The more I struggled and fought for freedom, the more excited I became. My arousal-driven desperation grew and grew, to the point where a surge of energy could be felt rushing to my groin. The tensing of my thighs marked the telltale point of no return before finally giving way to unparalleled pleasure as waves of raw ecstasy washed across my cocooned body.

I had my first "accident" in there.
One that I still think about rather fondly, even to this day.



I sorta remember just lying there for a while and feeling incredibly tired and drained. Things got a bit hazy after that, no doubt as a result of me dozing on and off over the course of the next several minutes. I continued basking in and out of my light slumber for quite some time...right up until the sound of dangling keys and thumping footsteps could be heard somewhere in the distance. Then I was fully awake; struggling wide-eyed in a suddenly crazed attempt at garnering much-needed freedom.

Even from beneath the superimposed layers of suffocatingly thick loft, I clearly recall hearing Jeff's voice alerting me to his - and my mum's - return. He was calling out to me, or at the very least letting me know they were home.


This wasn't boding well for me, I knew. I initially thought of remaining silent in the hopes of making him and mum think that I was fast asleep in my bedroom. But then I remembered that I'd left all the lights, the TV and the gaming console on, making it highly unlikely they'd think I was asleep.

I struggled and struggled and struggled some more; my wiry body squirming in a futile attempt to find a way out of Jeff's nightmarishly smothering prison. Had my face not been tapegagged and so heavily muffled, I would've undoubtedly returned the greeting and prevented any would-be entry into my room by claiming to be naked and in the process of changing. Much to my own growing despair though, Jeff's monumentally muffling bag and his infuriatingly sticky tape prevented me from responding.


I still clearly recall the horror I experienced upon hearing a series of knocks on my bedroom door. I recall the feeling of dread and the instinctive tensing of my muscles. I froze, no longer daring to move an inch. No longer daring to make a sound. No longer daring to even draw breath.

Time stood still for a while. Or at least, it seemed to. Everything turned oddly silent, until suddenly I felt myself being lifted off the floor and deposited on what could only be my own bed.


My squinting eyes looked up to see Jeff's unmistakably manly but admittedly very handsome face looking down at me. The man eyed me with an expression of concern, but his features also betrayed great puzzlement as he placed me down on the bed and freed my face from the downright smothering loft of his trusty old sleeping bag. He sat on the edge of my bed; an eyebrow arched up quizzically as he gently scooped the back of my head up and began clawing at the enormous slab of tape that clung to my cheeks and so amply covered my lower face.

The shame burning within me was indescribable during those seemingly endless seconds that saw the tape being slowly peeled off my mouth. Remaining gagged would've been preferable to answering the questions that inevitably came. It would've at least spared me the added humiliation of trying to explain what I had done.



Jeff didn't say much that night. He asked me what I was doing in his bag and then listened intently as I raced to provide him with some sort of believable response. I lied and told him I wasn't feeling well, that I had a headache and that I'd gone to bed early but felt really cold. "I must've...I must've rolled around in my sleep and...and...landed on the floor." I shakily went on.

My hastily concocted explanation might've actually been credible had it not been for the slab of sticky duct tape that had been slathered across my face just a brief moment ago.

Jeff's brow remained arched, betraying a rather lasting sense of disbelief. Much to my own eternal relief though, he didn't press the issue any further. And thankfully, the fact that my bedroom door was partly shut meant that my mum was still oblivious to all of this.

"Look. Gabe...you're a grown boy, old enough to make your own decisions." Jeff spoke after a somewhat lengthy pause. "I know I'm not your dad and what you do is your own business. But, from now on...I don't want you doing any of this funny stuff. Not on your own. It's too dangerous. I don't know if you're into these sorta like...escape challenges and whatnot, but yeah, I don't want you doing that. From now on, if you really wanna try something like this, you come to me and I'll see what I can do. None of this crazy stuff on your own, alright?" he told me, to which I could only look down in shame and remain perfectly silent.

Jeff breathed out a long sigh before paternalistically placing a hand on my knee and squeezing it a bit...as if trying to let me know that everything was alright and that my secret was safe.


"Alright champ, let's get you tightly tucked in." he spoke, apparently believing my half-baked story about coming up with a fever and inciting me to lie down in the centre of my bed.

I did as I was told, silently laying on my stomach and lowering my head down to my pillow. Jeff draped my own comforter on top of me and then got me to place my arms down at my sides before tucking me in really nice and snug - from my shoulders all the way down to my ankles and feet. This must've been the way growing up with a dad would've felt like, I remember silently thinking to myself.

Although I was really shaken up and boggled down with feelings of shame and regret, my esteem of Jeff grew significantly when, instead of rolling his immensely thick bag up and carrying it outside the room, he spread it out on top of my tightly tucked-in form and pulled it all the way up to my head, so that only the top of my hairy dome poked out and remained visible.

Without uttering a single word, the man tucked me into his sleeping bag, from my ankles all the way up to my shoulders, and even tucked it around my neck and head a bit - unwittingly burying my entire face inside its harrowingly strong-smelling loft.

"There you go, kiddo. Sleep tight." was the last thing he told me, before affectionally rubbing the top of my head, grabbing his duct tape, shutting the lights off and departing from the bedroom.



I could only lay there, perfectly silent, perfectly motionless. I kept hoping for the life of me that this was just a bad dream, and kept mentally chastising myself for how stupid I was and how careless I'd become.

A neverending cycle of regret and shame kept going through my mind, right up to the point where I could bear to think about it no longer and eventually succumbed to the growing heaviness of my eyelids.

That's how I ended up falling asleep that night; tucked into my comforter, with Jeff's immensely heavy and disturbingly musky bag draped over on top of me. Even amidst my deep feelings of regret, part of me was content with the way the exchange with him had gone. Suffice it to say, it could've been worse. It could've been a lot worse.

INTERESTED IN THIS STORY? WANT A FOLLOW-UP CHAPTER?
LET ME KNOW IN THE COMMENTS!
IF YOU'RE NOT YET REGISTERED, TAKE A MINUTE TO SIGN UP AND JOIN THIS AWESOME COMMUNITY!

[socjuc]

PART 1

Well.....I hope Gabe gets caught in the act by Jeff....there I said it I know we are all thinking/hoping this will occur. Then wishing Jeff takes his own form of punishment on his step-son! Maybe Gabe will see a side of Jeff that is reminiscent of how his buddies were treated

Great as always adventure, and expertly detailed!

PART 2

YES!!! Now I think this has planted a seed in Jeff's mind.....I think Gabe is in for it Jeff was a little too nice, I suspect there is something to come of this.

Excellent realization Gabe had of his experience of being truly bound and I liked that he was restricted by his bed and the wall...

[Stormee]

Indeed Gabriel, it could've been worse. He would be scolding you more and ground you. But Jeff is letting you explore your fantasies. And if you want to get bound up by Jeff, he will be more than willingly to. So hopefully that brings you two even closer together as stepfather and stepson. Great work as usual, @bondagefreak

[thespy]

Gabriel is finally finding who he is/likes and what better way than to have Jeff as the catalyst... I feel Gabriel might elevate his challenges and I feel he is starting to be more comfortable with Jeff knowing his "kinky" side cuz I think Jeff is also liking this. great story, as usual, I can't wait to see more of our dear friend Gabriel.

[ChairBoy]

I REALLY want to see Gabe punished by Jeff! I find that SO so so So hot!

[squirrel]

Great little story; I really liked the talk between Jeff and Gabriel, seems like the two of them will get along really well!

[puffalover]

That was really a fun read! Truly a treat for a sleeping bag bondage lover like myself!

It’s amazing how much detail you can still pack into a short story. Love the pics of Jeff’s fat sleeping bag. Looks like a big puffy monster! When Gabe was truly trapped inside the bag I love how the strong smell from it was really getting to him almost like the bag was purposely tormenting him while not being able to escape.

Wasn’t sure what route the conclusion of this story was gonna take, but I think it fits well. Shows that Jeff is caring and could be a good father figure in the end. Also like how he lets Gabe spend the night wrapped up in his big smelly bag.

[bondagefreak]

Indeed Gabriel, it could've been worse. He would be scolding you more and ground you.

I REALLY want to see Gabe punished by Jeff! I find that SO so so So hot!

I get where you're coming from, but that's not exactly the "worse" that Gabe was referring to. I think what he meant when saying "It could've been a lot worse" was referring to what could've happened. Eg: Being discovered not only by Jeff but also by his mum. Or Jeff really pressing him for answers and acting as though he was really weirded out. I think Gabe was expressing relief at the fact that the exchange with Jeff could've been a lot more embarrassing than it turned out to be.


As for Jeff scolding, grounding or even punishing Gabe, I'm afraid that wouldn't really fit in with the household dynamics elaborated so far. While I don't normally provide spoilers, the only thing I can say on the subject of Jeff punishing Gabe would be "don't get your hopes up".

Realism and believability are perhaps the two most important things for me when reading and writing. As much as it would please some of you, I'm of the solemn belief that Jeff punishing Gabe (at least in the foreseeable future) would be highly unlikely and even downright unrealistic.

Think about it. Jeff is not Gabe's father, nor has he been involved in Gabe's life for any meaningful amount of time. The two are still slowly getting to know each other and Gabe is still standoffish and a bit resistant to Jeff's attempts to bond.

It wouldn't be fitting for Jeff to ground or punish his girlfriend's teen son. At least to me, it wouldn't.
Besides, it's not as though Gabe actually did anything bad. Weird, perhaps. But bad? Hardly

To sum up, things might be different if the two of them had been living together for several years, but at the moment, the relationship between Jeff and Gabe isn't exactly a dad-son relationship. Not even close. Does this make any sense to you guys?

[socjuc]

Jeff is not Gabe's father, nor has he been involved in Gabe's life for any meaningful amount of time. The two are still slowly getting to know each other and Gabe is still standoffish and a bit resistant to Jeff's attempts to bond.

It wouldn't be fitting for Jeff to ground or punish his girlfriend's teen son. At least to me, it wouldn't.
Besides, it's not as though Gabe actually did anything bad. Weird, perhaps. But bad? Hardly

To sum up, things might be different if the two of them had been living together for several years, but at the moment, the relationship between Jeff and Gabe isn't exactly a dad-son relationship. Not even close. Does this make any sense to you guys?[/size]

I hear you and kind of totally agree....but then on the flip side Jeff had no issues stuffing Gabe's buddies mouths with his socks...So like Jeffy could be one of these no nonsense type dudes taking matters in his own hands...like he doesn't know these boys at all, but he still acted. But I digress.....Yeah you are right.....

[bondagefreak]

I hear you and kind of totally agree....but then on the flip side Jeff had no issues stuffing Gabe's buddies mouths with his socks...

Indeed, but the key difference here is that Jeff did not consider that to be a form of punishment. He was actually in a good mood (as made evident by his ensuing antics) and his socks merely made for convenient, sound-proof stuffings. Basically a quick fix to a minor but slightly irksome problem. There was also no motive to him using his own socks. It was basically just the shortest way to fix the problem.

I mean, he could've rebuked Gabe and his friends for what they were doing and ordered them to let Jake and Brendan loose, but instead of taking the fun away by defining limits and parameters, he took the other, far less fair route and fixed the noise issue by imposing gags on the group's helpless victims.

[Pup Wingletang]

A cute couple of chapters that do a good job of exploring the burgeoning desire growing inside our young lad without the added chaos of the usual bunch of smelly footed jocks! The way things slowly amp up as he keeps searching for better more satisfying experiences is very believable.

A good reminder too of the potential dangers of playing alone. He was only playing around in a sleeping bag and still managed to get himself trapped in a situation he couldn't escape. I love how that feeling of true helplessness is what pushes him over the edge.

At least he has a very understanding step father who hasn't questioned his desires but only wants to make sure he keeps himself safe.

I feel more fun may be just around the corner!