Stories of Tie Up Games

Ethan sitting in Frank's lap was adorable, though it makes me glad I'm the tallest in my family, haha. It's hilarious how a statistically outlandish amount of giant men gathering in one place makes them think Ethan is just a shortie.

Older relatives embarrassing you is a classic and it's nice that there's a relatively normal introduction to the camp before the "manhunt" begins.

I’m really enjoying this story so far and can’t wait to see where you go with it next!

Very adorable and I'm actually kind of glad not to see the usual annoying machismo and posturing - these are some real men, not afraid to show physical affection and emotion.

And Ethan some of us definitely are here to hear about how you were dwarfed!

great start and can't wait to see what's next

O.

M.

F.

G.

[mention]bondagefreak[/mention], you have my UNDIVIDED ATTENTION.

Judging by the title, I dont think this is going to be just another "guys weekend". I am left wondering if the alphas will be hunting Ethan for fun, or if they will be hunting to find him, when he runs away from the torment and embarrassment from the alphas

Ethan’s going to get what’s coming to him no doubt!

Just caught up and already excited for the rest! I'm loving the different characters and cant wait to see how they each act towards ethan.

Oh, man. I really want to know more!!!! In fact, I would like to be with those muscle guys, bound and gagged with a wide and sticky strip of duct tape.

So firstly we take the Easy Prey series ( one of the best ever made on here) and we keep the main character ( with which I can relate a lot) but we replace the older brother dom ( be it even passive) with 18 buff, ripped, shirtless in photos, manly beard, can crush me to death with two fingers guys - if you haven't guessed VERY my type! Oh my! Regardless of what the story is going to be about these things have already moved it to my top 10 favorite stories ever!

Not to say that the guys are SMOKING hot! The kind to give Joey from B&G a run for his money!

Whatever new, unusual, unexpected form this story will take I'll be sure to follow it! Only two chapters released and I'm already thirsting for more! You really have your spells, [mention]bondagefreak[/mention]

I spent what must've been the next ten minutes fidgeting around like a worm and struggling against my behemoth captor. Considering the fact that Frank's thighs were about as thick as centennial oak trees and that his arms were roughly three times the size of my own, it should come as no great surprise to anyone that he found my defiance rather amusing.

In fact, even my most vigorous attempts to get away didn't appear to be giving him the least bit of trouble. Not all that surprising considering the man could've snuffed the life right out of my lungs simply by wrestling me to the ground and sitting down on top of me.

As a kid, I used to find Frank's predisposition to wrestling around and play-fighting both enjoyable and amusing. As I grew into my teens though, I didn't appreciate it nearly as much, and now that I was a man in my own right, I enjoyed his showy displays of force even less than I used to.


Frank eventually relaxed his grip a little; just enough for me to slip my arms out of his hug but not enough that I could break free from his lap. He spoke with the guys, laughed at some of the recollections that were being brought up and regularly chipped in whenever the banter would call for it. It's only when he lowered his gaze down that he noticed me gaming on my cellphone. Suffice it to say, the broad-shouldered behemoth definitely did not approve.


"Gimme that." the brute commandingly ordered, his tone a little sterner than I was used to as he reached down and snatched the phone right out of my hands.

I protested what I perceived as being a gross injustice. And quite vehemently at that!
Frank didn't seem to care though. He gave me a speech about my generation's failings and lamented the fact that we were always glued to our gadgets and not appreciative of our surroundings. Dad had also shared those same misgivings many times, but although I sorta knew the both of them were right, I sure as hell didn't appreciate Frank taking my phone from me as though I were some child.



Imagine my frustration when, instead of handing me my phone back and encouraging me to partake in their banter, the burly leviathan-of-a-man wrapped his monumental arms around me and handed the phone over to my father!

"No! Fraaank! Gimme back my phone!" I angrily protested, drawing everyone's attention and doing my best to squirm out of the behemoth muscleman's overpowering embrace.

My father, although visibly amused by the spectacle of our disagreement, appeared in complete agreement with my godfather's actions. I watched in unbridled vexation as he took the phone in his hand, and then watched as he took a big drag of his cigar, unzipped his monstrously fat puffer jacket and stashed the device into one of its inner chest pockets.

I, of course, made a big fuss and tried arguing with my dad and my godfather. I told them that they were being unreasonable and lamented how unfair their treatment of me was. But it's only when I used some rather colourful language to express my great dissatisfaction that Frank intervened and used his great size to further humiliate me.


*Smack. Smack. Smack* came the sound of his thickly padded fingers as they impacted against my left cheek.
Frank's rebutting taps were very light, but the gesture was quite simply beyond demeaning.


"Watch your mouth, boy. No godson o' mine is gonna use that sorta foul language." he authoritatively rebuked, his thick leather jacket creaking incessantly as I struggled to free my arms from his vice-like bear hug.


Had I been twelve or thirteen, I would've undoubtedly been a little flustered but probably wouldn't have felt nearly as offended or made such a big fuss about it. But being eighteen and being surrounded by a bunch of hyper-masculine men left me feeling extremely self-conscious and highly susceptible to feelings of embarrassment. In essence, I was trying to act cool and trying real hard to make a good impression on them, but my godfather seemed bent on treating me like a child and belittling me in front of everyone. Mind you, he wasn't doing it on purpose. Frank had always been a little overbearing, and although his antics could get tiresome, his heart was definitely in the right place.


As you can probably imagine, I wasn't too happy about having my arms crushed down to my sides, nor was I very content with being verbally and physically reprimanded in front of so many spectators.

I was in the midst of giving Frank a much-deserved piece of my mind when an enormous hand suddenly hovered up in front of my protesting face and rapidly began closing the distance.


"Mnnnoo! What the fuumpphhgggmmm...." was the only thing I managed to blurt out as the stupendously hulking man's bear-sized paw unceremoniously put an end to my irritated complaints.

"You're leaving me no choice, kiddo. I'm placing you under a time-out." Frank explained, pinning the back of my head against his massive chest and swallowing the near-entirety of my face up inside his unbelievably oversized hand.





I spent about a minute struggling to break free from out of my godfather's infernally strong hug.
With a torso nearly twice as broad as mine and upper arms the size of my thighs, the 48-year-old firefighter had virtually no trouble keeping my twig-like limbs in check. I tried protesting his stupid time-out and tried letting him know I couldn't breathe under his immensely large hand, but the beastly brute appeared oblivious to the trouble his size was causing me.

"Mggh ppfftt! Mphhgg uggh mnpphh!" I cried out and cursed, failing rather miserably to get a single word out past his unreasonably disabling grip.



Frank was no ordinary guy. Even when surrounded by other suspiciously large and overly buff men, my godfather was a veritable hulk. His hands were the size of bear paws, his palms were unbelievably thick and his fingers - though moderately calloused from several decades of hard work - were broader and fleshier than any I'd ever seen. In other words, he was a giant among giants.

While I would've normally been impressed, not to mention perhaps even a little turned on, the impossibly smothering grip Frank had over my comparatively puny face left me feeling upset and embarrassed.



A cacophonic orchestra of angrily creaking leather filled the silence as I squirmed around like a fish out of water and tried my very best to wrestle out of his handgag.

"Ugghmm mmggpphh uggh!" I cried out again and again, protesting this unfair treatment and narrowing my eyes down on the beefy giant's annoyingly large hand. Everything from the underside of my chin right up to the bottom of my eyes was engulfed in Frank's stupendously oversized, leathery-scented grip.

The 260-pound leviathan seemed blissfully unaware of my worsening plight, to the point where I legitimately thought I was going to pass out from lack of air. Even more disconcerting than Frank's smothering handgag was the fact that everyone around the campfire was back to smoking, drinking, exchanging anecdotes and having a good time. Even my dad, who'd stashed my cellphone into his jacket only a short minute ago, was busily conversing with his buddies. Nobody was paying me any heed by that point. Not even the beastly brute whose hand I was being smothered by.




Only when the burning of my lungs caused me to stop resisting did the burly goliath-man finally loosen his grip a little and allow me to draw breath.

*SNIFFFFFFFF* came the familiar sound as a torrent of much-needed air urgently rushed into my nostrils.

Frank temporarily tore his gaze away from the joviality of the communal campfire before refocusing his attention towards me. He waited until my nasal passageways had finished filling my lungs up, and then clamped the uppermost part of his hand back down, once again sealing me under his death-grip.

I fought him at first, not appreciating having my air cut off again and definitely feeling a little taken aback by how strongly his glove smelled. When the burning of my lungs returned, I tried crying out to my father, hoping he'd intervene or at least notice my panic. Much to my continued chagrin though, he didn't...nor did anyone else for that matter. They genuinely couldn't hear me above the roaring of the campfire and were too busy chatting to notice the worsening severity of my plight.


Frank didn't explain his actions. At least not in a verbal manner like my father would've.
The paternalistic brute simply kept his giant hand clamped over my face and did not loosen it until after I stopped resisting. He repeated the same process over and over; loosening his handgag so that my nostrils could flare open for a few seconds, and then tightening his clamp again in order to put an end to my breathing.

The overpowering scent of his gloved hand left me feeling a little dazed and lightheaded, but considering the fact that my air was being rationed, I was left with no choice but to breathe in and deal with it.



It continued on like that for quite a while before Frank finally returned his gaze down towards me and spoke in a low fatherly tone. "Do we have an understanding, boy?" he asked, obviously referring to the unspoken agreement I was being forced to abide by.

Much to Frank's immediate satisfaction, I instantly whimpered a hopelessly muffled and very affirmative reply.

My two choices were clear. I could either abide by his time-out and be allowed to breathe, or put up a fuss and have my face smothered up. Not much of a choice, if you know what I mean.

"Good." was the only response my fatherlike protector offered, before once again taking a gulp of his amber-coloured brew and refocusing his attention on the festive banter that animated the campsite.




I spent the next two hours quietly sitting on Frank's lap, while at the same time being forced to draw breath from under his huge leather-scented bear paw. Aside from the jovial laughter and the general cheerfulness that reigned atop our group, the crackling of the fire and the creaking of Frank's distressed jacket proved to be the only constant that night.

I tentatively tried working my arms up and slipping my face out of his hand a few times, but the bear-sized man's response was both swift and decisive. Every single one of my efforts - no matter how minor or insignificant - was followed up by the constricting of his arms and the immediate tightening of his handgag.

I ended up testing his defences several times that evening, hoping at one point to find a weakness in his defences or spot a vulnerability worth exploiting. Suffice it to say, there were none to be found. No vulnerabilities to exploit and no way of negotiating with him either.

Time and time again, the tightening of Frank's impossibly smothering handgag was all that was needed to force me back into a state of unconditional compliance.




And so I just sat there, enjoying the somewhat partial view of the impressive campfire and regularly narrowing my eyes down on the annoyingly smelly gloved digits that obstructed my view of the flames.

I sniffed inside the man's stupendously thick palm; the rush of leather-scented air filling my lungs up for what seemed like the millionth time. I moaned, angrily verbalised a series of heavily muffled laments - laments that no one but myself could hear - and then sniffed again, once more falling prey to the intoxicating perfume of my iron-fisted godfather's tyrannical glovegag.


Frank kept his hand clamped atop my face the entire time. I could see the tip of the impressive flames as they danced their jig and crackled into the night, but my view of everything else was hopelessly obstructed; a tribute to Frank's palms and to the sheer broadness of his fingers.


Although I don't really count that experience as being bondage per se, I'd be lying if I said it didn't fill me with the same emotions I'd experienced when tied up. Truth be known, I was understandably pissed off about having my phone taken away, but even though my mind found Frank's ministrations difficult to accept at first, part of me genuinely enjoyed being wrestled down and trapped inside his arms like this.

True, the man was very stern and fatherly in his approach, but at the end of the day, he was my dad's closest friend and I genuinely felt safe with him.


Finally, the steady heaving of Frank's chest, the laborious nature of my partially impeeded sniffs, the soft creaking of his leather jacket and the soothing warmth of those dancing flames...all of it eventually succeeded in easing me down into a light slumber. I was vaguely aware of my godfather's lips affectionately puckering atop my hairy dome at one point, but I was too far gone to care and simply took a whiff of his hand before once again slipping back into the dreamworld.

This story feels like written especially for me... being glovegagged for hours by a super hot, masculine alpha jock is exactly what I'm wishing for. If you add a campfire and many extra handsome and beefy guys around, cigars, leather jackets you come to a conclusion that it's just PERFECT

Fantastic chapter, [mention]bondagefreak[/mention] , you have exceeded yourself!

Great chapter . Can't wait to read more .

I'd say this experience counts as bondage as good as any other. Frank's meaty arms and hands are better than some impromptu TUG materials.

While it's not anything new, you also did a particularly good job at showing an interesting contradiction: young guys being equally annoyed by and attracted to men who are, let's say "manlier". I experienced this more than a few times at lockerrooms and bathhouses and it's nice to see it put into words so expertly.

Everything that I need now is to be on a lap of a strongman being hugged!

Loved this chapter.

Love the descriptive devices being used in this chapter. It held a really smothering tone, gave the story the feeling of a claustrophobic embrace like Ethan is feeling. And I loved you calling his hand a bear paw. I love the sound of Frank, he sounds like a big ol sweetheart. And as we know, sweethearts tend to be the most... Pivotal in the fetish aspects.

Absolutely great work. Bondage stories are always nice when it’s someone they know and are safe with that are doing it to them, either consensual or non. Bondage can be pretty hard to enjoy when your actively scared about your situation so this is turning out great!

Typically I’m not a hand gagged kind of person but this chapter was very hot. Definitely gave me a new appreciation of it, but I do hope we see something stuffed in his mouth. Keep up the great writing!

Heh, the typical overbearing hypocrisy of the "cell phones will rot your brain" set... as they drink beer and smoke cigars. Still, that long glovegag and beefy arm restraint was fun to see!

Great chapter!
I would certainely make a fuss again had I been in Ethan's position and have to endure Frank's big beefy hands! A brat between 18 no no-nonsence buff guys: can't see anything that would go wrong

Great couple of chapters. Nice to see Ethan being warmly welcomed into the group and loving Frank's overbearing personality. You just can't beat a big, leathery handgag. I agree with Frank's thoughts on phones and screens in this sort of environment - it's time for a digital detox!

It's interesting as well how so much humiliation/embarrassment is all in the mind - Ethan is mortified but the rest of the guys there don't really care. Nice to see him finally relaxing and drifting away into a leather scented sleep,

Awesome

Loving the overbearing alpha bear Frank! Now that is a man who takes no nonsense.

I can definitely see myself in Ethan's position. I am always on my phone. If only I had a big bear to stop me!

The forum has been quieter than usual these past few weeks and I know that many of the M/M readers are sadly MIA for the time being.
I hope to see more names pop up in the comments, but I'm absolutely thrilled that those of you following along are enjoying this