CHAPTER 166 - THE LESSER OF TWO EVILS
Saturday, April 29 (8:00 PM)
As soon as the first period ended and the twenty minute commercial break began, the jocks turned their attention to me and immediately started taunting me and tormenting my tightly hogtied form with their hands and fingers.
My frantic laughs quickly turned into desperate screams as dextrous fingers pulled my socks off and dug into my helplessly bound up soles.
Nothing could've prepared me for the merciless assault I was about to face.
As soon as the two brutes dug their fingers into my feet, I broke down into a fit and struggled as though my life depended on it.
I laughed and screamed and gagged, unable to cope with the torment that was being imposed on me.
The more I screamed, the more they tickled. And the more they tickled, the more I screamed.
It was a nasty case of cause and effect, and I was quite literally stuck in a loop that would seemingly never end.
Fortunately for me, the muscular hunks did end up taking pity on me, and after several minutes of intense tickling, I was allowed to catch my breath and regain some of my previous composure.
Unable to move my head around due to the back of my muzzle being attached to my ankles, I was forced to look up at Nick's cocky face as he eyed me like a piece of meat and smirked at my demise.
I pleaded with him through my eyes and coughed inside my massive gag, begging for mercy and whimpering in the hopes of earning a premature release.
The 6'4 blond muscle-hunk simply chuckled and ruffled my hair up.
"What's wrong, babe? Got somethin' to say?" he asked, flashing me the cockiest of smirks as he watched me trying to speak and mouth off through his giant boxers.
"Uhhhggmm...mmmgghhphh!" I cried out in desperation, growing increasingly frustrated at my inability to form words and absolutely HATING my gag.
"Here. Lemme help you with that." Nick offered, grabbing some of the cloth that was sticking up past the thick muzzle-gag and lifting it up over my defenseless nostrils.
"Uggghmmffpt!" I screamed, yelling a curse at my captor and narrowing my eyes on the bundle of dark green material that smothered my nostrils.
I sniffed and coughed, grossed out by the strong scent of my lover's musky loincloth and frustrated beyond words at the fact that I couldn't do a THING to free myself from it.
It continued like that for the entire duration of the hockey game.
During the actual game, I was forgotten and ignored. But as soon as the commercial break came back on, all hands were on me.
For all his public niceties and his chivalrous manners, Zack was a fuckin' NIGHTMARE to deal with when he had you bound up and gagged.
The first time he'd put me under ropes, Jeremy had been there to distract him and absorb most of his attention.
But now that the little lad was nowhere to be found, Zack's true colours were finally making themselves known.
He was every bit as sadistic as Brad!
Ok, no. Maybe not THAT sadistic.
I mean, I didn't fear for my life or anything.
It's just that, well...Zack certainly knew how to "take care" of his prisoners, if you know what I mean.
Whereas Nick would've been content to truss me up and leave me to stew with a massive gag in my mouth, Zack just couldn't keep his hands to himself.
The hunky hockey player was constantly tickling me, fondling me and exploring my body for potential weak spots.
And as soon as he found one, he exploited it to the fullest extent possible.
He was a veritable MENACE, in his own right.
Zack's devilish teasing seemed to have an effect of Nick as well. And pretty soon both of them were digging their fingers in my helpless soles and exploring my body for sensitive weak spots.
I coughed, screamed and laughed beneath my gag, but the brutish hunks didn't stop or show me mercy.
Instead of taking pity on me, they just laughed and kept going, driving me to the brink of hysteria and nearly causing me to pass out from exhaustion.
The hogtie Zack had put me in was so tight and so restrictive that my thighs felt like they were on fire.
I couldn't budge...couldn't move a muscle save for my fingers, toes and eyelids.
I spent two long hours trussed up like that, patiently waiting for the hockey game to end.
But fate was not smiling upon me that day.
The third period ended in a tie, and another long commercial began in which the various analysts and experts blabbered out about which strategies the teams would have to adopt during the upcoming prolongation period.
"Mmmpphhfft." I groaned, immediately realising that the added period meant I'd be spending even MORE time trussed up in this maddeningly tight hogtie.
When Zack got up to use the washroom, I decided to use the alone time with my boyfriend to plead my case and make him realise how sore and restless I was.
"Ugghmm...ugghmmph. Mmhhhggphfft." I tried to tell him, through my gag.
The blond King showed me no sympathy though.
Instead of looking down at me, he just brought his beer bottle up to his lips, chugged some of the golden liquid down and raised his beefy left thigh up off the couch before blowing a massive fart inside his nylon trackies.
PRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRT.
"Uhhgggmm! UGGGHHMM!" I cried out, choking and gagging on the blond warrior's foul smelling gas.
Still, the masculine stud just ignored me and kept his eyes glued to the TV screen before lifting his hands back up and crossing them behind his head.
Due to my proximity to him, it took a while for me to recover from the smell of his fart. But as I'd done so many times over the course of the evening, I took in the sight of my Alpha's awe inspiring body and gazed up at his square jaw and incredibly handsome facial features.
From his supremely broad shoulders and full pecs, to his hard abs and absolutely MASSIVE biceps, Nick had the body and face of a god. And as frustrating as it was right now, I have to admit that part of me found his casual lack of empathy to be incredibly...appealing at times.
Even now, my body was trussed up excruciatingly tight and my mouth was crammed FULL with his very own, filthy boxers.
I couldn't call for help. I couldn't breathe through my mouth, and couldn't budge more than a freakin' micron in any direction. And yet, mister handsome over here didn't have any qualms about sitting right next to me and blowing farts right out of his huge ass.
He knew I couldn't get away and he knew I couldn't escape the smell of his gas.
Unfortunately for me, he just didn't care.
Much to my surprise, Zack was the one who decided to give me some slack upon his return to the living room.
The vast majority of my bonds remained, but my hogtie was undone and the leather muzzle was unstrapped from my face, allowing me to breathe a little easier.
I groaned in relief as the burning sensation across my thighs quickly faded, but found myself facing a very different predicament as I was pulled up against Zack and forced to lie face up, with the back of my head resting on his very large, very meaty tights.
Even though nearly eighty percent of my body was tightly bundled up in rope, my feet, navel and nipples were conveniently spared the rope treatment, and so was my jockstrap-clad erection.
With my head now resting on Zack's generous lap and my lower legs resting on Nick's thighs, my sensitive package was completely defenseless and at their disposal.
Even worse was the fact that my groin area was pushed up due to my bound hands resting beneath my butt.
Zack did toy with my jockstrap pouch for a bit, but he actually seemed far more interested in clamping his huge hands over my face and watching me struggle for air beneath his fleshy palms.
Truth be known, I enjoyed that quite a bit as well.
The massive underwear gag that protruded past my lips, stopped my captor's hand from applying an air tight seal over my face, but it still rendered my breathing quite difficult.
The broad chested hockey hunk ended up spending quite a bit of time forcing me to sniff the inside of his giant, thick hand. And take big sniffs of it, I did!
I could only imagine how sweaty and smelly his palms and fingers must be after being cooped up inside those god-awful hockey gloves of his.
The breathplay and light smothering took a slightly different turn when Nick got up from his seat and offered to fetch his Russian military mask, to which Zack responded by accepting the offer and grinning excitedly.
I tried to protest my impending doom, but Zack simply clamped his right hand over my face and hushed me down by bringing a finger over his lips as signal for me to be quiet.
With his huge hand just barely clearing my eyes, I looked up into my masculine captor's handsome face and resigned myself to moaning and taking laboured sniffs like the good boy he wanted me to be.
Nick made it back to the living room about a minute later, and the rubber breathing unit was stretched open and forced down onto my heavily gagged and very much protesting face.
Getting the dreaded contraption on me was no easy feat, but in the end, the mask was securely latched onto the back of my head and completely molded my overstuffed mouth and face in an airtight seal.
Zack held me still by grabbing onto my head with both hands, and Nick bent down screw the large circular breathing filter onto the inhaler nozzle at the front of the mask.
By the time they were done with me, the sound of my laboured sniffs sounded fairly similar to the sound of Darth Vader's breathing in the original Star Wars movies.
When the hockey came back on, I thought I was finally gonna get a bit of respite.
But the sound of my breathing was apparently such a turn on for Zack that he couldn't resist the urge of toying with me.
He kept using his hand to block the small hole at the center of my breathing filter and kept tormenting me by twisting my nipples and tickling my exposed inner thighs and abdomen.
Nick would also join in every now and then, signaling his presence by spontaneously brushing his fingers against my defenseless soles. It was all just TOO MUCH for me to handle!
After pushing me to my very limit, Zack would allow me to fill my lungs back up, only to smother my breathing hole with his hand just a few short seconds later.
He did that over and over for a good ten minutes, and in all that time, neither team had been able to score!
By the time the next commercial break was launched, Zack apparently decided that I'd earned myself a break.
Nick got up to fetch a set of cold beers from the fridge and my brown haired captor looked around the room as though he was searching for something.
Through the set of circular eye slots at the front of my mask, I watched as Zack extended his arm out towards the La-Z-Boy chair closest to our couch, and watched as he grabbed one of the leather gloves he'd been wearing upon his arrival earlier this evening.
Not understanding what he was about to do, my eyes followed the stud's every move as he opened his thick leather glove up and pulled it down onto my heavy-duty breathing filter.
"Here, kiddo. Sniff my glove." he chuckled, smirking cockily as he turned his attention away to accept the cold beer Nick was handing him.
I spent the next ten minutes in relative peace, quietly sniffing away and basking in the scent of Master Zack's thick, leather police glove.
Although it wasn't entirely unpleasant, it did smell quite a bit stronger than I expected.
The potent smell was probably a result of him wearing his gloves after hockey practice...when his hands were all smelly and sweaty from being cooped up inside those padded rank hockey mitts of his.
All things considered, it wasn't that bad.
And when Nick decided to prop his feet up on the coffee table and kick his giant basketball shoes off, I was more than a little grateful to find refuge inside Zack's musky police glove.
And so I accepted my fate without so much as a peep, and calmly sniffed up the smell of sweat and leather that filtered up into my breathing apparatus.
Had Zack's glove not been there to protect me, my current predicament would've been far, far worse.