The Temple of Ksosc (M/MMMfF?) Chapter 2 7/3
Posted: Sun Jun 27, 2021 5:57 pm
I've always liked weird supernatural shit, so why not combine it with bondage?
Neil had no way of knowing how long he’d been trapped. His adventure had been going brilliantly until then.
Many were aware of the rumours of the ancient treasures that were supposed to be inside the Temple of Ksosc. It was an old tale, the origins of which have been lost in the great mists of time. A select few, however, knew these rumours to be true. On his gap gear in Cambodia, a drunk in a bar was telling anyone who would listen about how close he was to finding the treasures. Gilded rooms full of ancient currencies. Gems, fabrics, exotic materials that existed only in ancient folklore, all waiting for any explorer brave enough to venture inside. Neil was no explorer, but he was about to study architecture, and although his old drunk's stories were undoubtedly highly exaggerated, he would no doubt be referring to some old ruins somewhere. Neil asked the old drunk to guide him to the “entrance” and for a modest fee, he agreed.
The four hour trek through the dense Cambodian jungle was unpleasant, but they made it. An unassuming cave, hidden in the depths of the jungle. No wonder no one had claimed whatever treasure was supposedly hidden within. Even if someone stumbled blindly in the enormous jungle and found the cave, no one would go in it except for shelter.
“That’s how I discovered it, junior”
Inside the cave were ornate carvings, with steps leading down to a stone arch. Neil felt eerie; something about this didn’t feel right.
“This is as far as I go junior. I barely made it out, I’m not going in there again. Oh yeah, watch out for any traps”
“Trap?” Neil asked this guide, but he was nowhere to be seen. Panic set in. With the old drunk gone, how would he leave the jungle, even if he did find the treasure!
Feeling like he had no choice, and with daylight fading, Neil entered the Temple of Ksosc.
What first struck Neil was that the temple was lit with a strange light, seemingly coming from no logical source. He ventured onwards, narrowly avoiding spike traps, darts and pits, until he came across a room with what looked like a map carved on the back wall. He took a step inside the room, and a heavy portcullis slammed shut behind him, leaving him trapped! He examined the map carving. It revealed that he was in a complex labyrinth. Although the map showed a picture of a maze, he had no idea where he was. Even if he could find a way out of this room, he’d never remember where the exit was, let alone any treasure. Neil began to cry.
An unknown amount of time later, Neil heard footsteps.
“HELP! HELP! I’M TRAPPED HERE!”
The footsteps got louder. Neil saw three rapidly approaching men. One of them looked awfully familiar.
“Fancy seeing you here!” said the old man from earlier. He sounded suspiciously sober. All three of them were wearing identical outfits. Dressed completely in black cotton, with what looked like masses of clean white soccer socks attached to belts around their waists.
“GET ME OUT OF HERE”
The three men conversed in a language Neil didn’t understand. He learned basic Khmer before leaving for his gap year but didn’t pick up a single word.
The portcullis opened. The three men rushed in.
“Thanks, guys! I could ha.. wait, what are you doing?!
The old man and one of the other men held Neil down. The third man yanked a sock free from his belt, and tied his wrists tightly behind his back. More words Neil didn’t understand were spoken, and the old man forced a hand over his mouth.
“Hmmm! Hmmm!”
Neil tried fighting the men off, but it was three on one, and the one had his hands tied behind his back. A second sock was used to cinch the sock binding his wrists. The man doing the tying tugged a third sock free. The younger man holding Neil down forced his elbows together, and the sock was tied above them. His elbows were forced to touch, and the sock was knotted, then cinched with a fourth sock. With Neil not able to resist much anymore, a fifth sock for pulled free from the belt. As Neil could no longer wriggle around to avoid it, this time the sock was pulled as taut as possible, eliminating as much stretch as possible, before being tied tightly just below his elbows. Neil winced into the hand gagging him as it was tied. A sixth sock was pulled free from the belt and used to cinch the fifth, again pulled as taut as possible.
With the socks below his elbows making fidgeting nearly impossible, the man holding Neil down helped his colleague untie the socks above his elbows, with the old man maintaining the handgag. The socks were stretched to their limits, before being tied and cinched above his elbows. Neil didn’t notice any difference in his elbows, but he could feel the socks on his wrists starting to loosen slightly from his frantic struggling. A seventh and eighth sock was used to crush his forearms together. The two goons doing the tying unbound his wrists. Neil desperately tried to prevent them from retying them, but the new forearm bondage only allowed him to separate them by an inch. This inch was cruelly taken away from him as the sock was stretched to its absolute limit. A tiny tear could be heard from the sock, if it wasn’t drowned out by Neil whining into his handbag. His wrists were tightly bound and cinched. He was starting to get a backache from his elbows being pinned together behind his back.
The men conversed in their language. The old man, apparently the only one who could speak English, spoke to Neil.
“If you promise to be good and quiet, I’ll take my hand off your mouth. Do you promise?”
Neil mumbled yes and nodded.
The handgag was removed, and Neil immediately let his former guide have it.
“WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON?! WHY AMMMMMPHH!”
A hand was planted firmly over Neil’s mouth. One of the three grabbed a sock from his belt, but was stopped from pulling it loose. The one that did the tying earlier shook his head, and pointed at Neil’s feet. All three smirked.
Neil was forced to sit on the floor. Two of the goons held his legs together while the third untied his shoes.
[img]
The room immediately smelt of Neil’s pungent foot odour. His feet didn’t smell that good at the best of times. After being worn for three days straight, in the sweltering heat of a Cambodian summer, including a four hour trek in a humid jungle, they could be considered a minor health hazard. The once clean white, long thick socks were going a dingy brown colour. A few small holes had formed, although from the smell or the wear no one could know. All three goons were shaking their heads. They all knew what was next, but none of them wanted to volunteer. Finally, one of the goons holding Neil's legs together gathered up all his courage and peeled off the sock closest to him. The other goon holding his legs peeled off the other sock. One of them stopped holding Neil’s legs together and quickly put his trainers back on his nasty feet. The trainers covered the stench of his feet, but they could still smell those socks. A disgusting mix of vinegar and strong cheese.
Neil saw his opportunity now only one man was holding his legs and began kicking out. The goon that but his trainers on soon put a stop to that, and tied his ankles together with a sock, before cinching it with another. They were nowhere near as tight as he socks on his arms, but with a man holding his legs together as well it was more than enough for now.
The goon that was now free picked up the socks from the floor, one in each hand. He approached Neil’s face. One of his socks was forced over his nose. Neil wiggled around, but was held firm by the other two goons and the socks binding him. He fought against the oppressive aroma. He felt lightheaded almost immediately. He swore he could feel his nostril hairs trying to retract inwards to escape the smell. His handgag was lifted. Neil coughed at the nauseating stench of the sock, but as soon as he opened his mouth, the other sock was forced in his now open mouth, toe end first! He coughed and wretched violently as his tongue made contact with whatever matter was stuck on that sock. Cotton, sweat, toe jam, and millions of bacteria unknown to science. Strong fingers forced more and more of the think cotton soccer sock inside Neil’s mouth. He felt sick. The heel of the sock was crammed in his mouth, and Neil was really regretting not changing his socks more often, and wearing socks that big. The rest of the sock was pretty clean, but none of the clean parts of the sock was going anywhere near Neil’s tastebuds. His mouth was rapidly running out of room now, but the goon kept pushing, finding more space in the cheeks and the roof of his mouth. The goon was eventually satisfied there was no more space in Neil’s mouth. Plus, there was very little sock left to go in his mouth anyway.
[img]
The old man handgagged Neil again. His whining was far quieter than it was before. Not that there was anyone anywhere near him that would rescue him. The goons didn’t want to hear him complain or ask questions. They’d had it before, time and again. Who are you? Where am I? Why are you doing this? It’s too tight. It hurts. Bla Bla Bla.
The free goon took the other sock, and tied a fat knot in the middle. The handgag was removed, and the knot was forced into Neil’s mouth. Half the knot made it, the other half stuck out comically from his lips. The ends of the sock were knotted tightly behind the back of his head. The left side of his face had the clean part of the sock. The right side of his face has the nasty sweaty foot part of the sock. It was tied in such a way that the heel of the sock was touching Neil’s cheek, and the sole was against his hair. Neil’s pleas were almost muted. His breathing was nearly as loud as his desperate cries for help. His coughing at the taste was the most noise he could make.
[img]
One of the goons removed a collar from his pocket and fastened it round Neil’s neck. His ankles were untied and he was pulled to his feet.
“Now, junior. There is someone we want to introduce you to. The Master."
==============================================================================================================================
All pictures of faces are made by generated.photos and are therefore not real. Crude manips done by me in paint. Edited so grammar and spelling don't suck as much as before.
Neil had no way of knowing how long he’d been trapped. His adventure had been going brilliantly until then.
Many were aware of the rumours of the ancient treasures that were supposed to be inside the Temple of Ksosc. It was an old tale, the origins of which have been lost in the great mists of time. A select few, however, knew these rumours to be true. On his gap gear in Cambodia, a drunk in a bar was telling anyone who would listen about how close he was to finding the treasures. Gilded rooms full of ancient currencies. Gems, fabrics, exotic materials that existed only in ancient folklore, all waiting for any explorer brave enough to venture inside. Neil was no explorer, but he was about to study architecture, and although his old drunk's stories were undoubtedly highly exaggerated, he would no doubt be referring to some old ruins somewhere. Neil asked the old drunk to guide him to the “entrance” and for a modest fee, he agreed.
The four hour trek through the dense Cambodian jungle was unpleasant, but they made it. An unassuming cave, hidden in the depths of the jungle. No wonder no one had claimed whatever treasure was supposedly hidden within. Even if someone stumbled blindly in the enormous jungle and found the cave, no one would go in it except for shelter.
“That’s how I discovered it, junior”
Inside the cave were ornate carvings, with steps leading down to a stone arch. Neil felt eerie; something about this didn’t feel right.
“This is as far as I go junior. I barely made it out, I’m not going in there again. Oh yeah, watch out for any traps”
“Trap?” Neil asked this guide, but he was nowhere to be seen. Panic set in. With the old drunk gone, how would he leave the jungle, even if he did find the treasure!
Feeling like he had no choice, and with daylight fading, Neil entered the Temple of Ksosc.
What first struck Neil was that the temple was lit with a strange light, seemingly coming from no logical source. He ventured onwards, narrowly avoiding spike traps, darts and pits, until he came across a room with what looked like a map carved on the back wall. He took a step inside the room, and a heavy portcullis slammed shut behind him, leaving him trapped! He examined the map carving. It revealed that he was in a complex labyrinth. Although the map showed a picture of a maze, he had no idea where he was. Even if he could find a way out of this room, he’d never remember where the exit was, let alone any treasure. Neil began to cry.
An unknown amount of time later, Neil heard footsteps.
“HELP! HELP! I’M TRAPPED HERE!”
The footsteps got louder. Neil saw three rapidly approaching men. One of them looked awfully familiar.
“Fancy seeing you here!” said the old man from earlier. He sounded suspiciously sober. All three of them were wearing identical outfits. Dressed completely in black cotton, with what looked like masses of clean white soccer socks attached to belts around their waists.
“GET ME OUT OF HERE”
The three men conversed in a language Neil didn’t understand. He learned basic Khmer before leaving for his gap year but didn’t pick up a single word.
The portcullis opened. The three men rushed in.
“Thanks, guys! I could ha.. wait, what are you doing?!
The old man and one of the other men held Neil down. The third man yanked a sock free from his belt, and tied his wrists tightly behind his back. More words Neil didn’t understand were spoken, and the old man forced a hand over his mouth.
“Hmmm! Hmmm!”
Neil tried fighting the men off, but it was three on one, and the one had his hands tied behind his back. A second sock was used to cinch the sock binding his wrists. The man doing the tying tugged a third sock free. The younger man holding Neil down forced his elbows together, and the sock was tied above them. His elbows were forced to touch, and the sock was knotted, then cinched with a fourth sock. With Neil not able to resist much anymore, a fifth sock for pulled free from the belt. As Neil could no longer wriggle around to avoid it, this time the sock was pulled as taut as possible, eliminating as much stretch as possible, before being tied tightly just below his elbows. Neil winced into the hand gagging him as it was tied. A sixth sock was pulled free from the belt and used to cinch the fifth, again pulled as taut as possible.
With the socks below his elbows making fidgeting nearly impossible, the man holding Neil down helped his colleague untie the socks above his elbows, with the old man maintaining the handgag. The socks were stretched to their limits, before being tied and cinched above his elbows. Neil didn’t notice any difference in his elbows, but he could feel the socks on his wrists starting to loosen slightly from his frantic struggling. A seventh and eighth sock was used to crush his forearms together. The two goons doing the tying unbound his wrists. Neil desperately tried to prevent them from retying them, but the new forearm bondage only allowed him to separate them by an inch. This inch was cruelly taken away from him as the sock was stretched to its absolute limit. A tiny tear could be heard from the sock, if it wasn’t drowned out by Neil whining into his handbag. His wrists were tightly bound and cinched. He was starting to get a backache from his elbows being pinned together behind his back.
The men conversed in their language. The old man, apparently the only one who could speak English, spoke to Neil.
“If you promise to be good and quiet, I’ll take my hand off your mouth. Do you promise?”
Neil mumbled yes and nodded.
The handgag was removed, and Neil immediately let his former guide have it.
“WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON?! WHY AMMMMMPHH!”
A hand was planted firmly over Neil’s mouth. One of the three grabbed a sock from his belt, but was stopped from pulling it loose. The one that did the tying earlier shook his head, and pointed at Neil’s feet. All three smirked.
Neil was forced to sit on the floor. Two of the goons held his legs together while the third untied his shoes.
[img]
The room immediately smelt of Neil’s pungent foot odour. His feet didn’t smell that good at the best of times. After being worn for three days straight, in the sweltering heat of a Cambodian summer, including a four hour trek in a humid jungle, they could be considered a minor health hazard. The once clean white, long thick socks were going a dingy brown colour. A few small holes had formed, although from the smell or the wear no one could know. All three goons were shaking their heads. They all knew what was next, but none of them wanted to volunteer. Finally, one of the goons holding Neil's legs together gathered up all his courage and peeled off the sock closest to him. The other goon holding his legs peeled off the other sock. One of them stopped holding Neil’s legs together and quickly put his trainers back on his nasty feet. The trainers covered the stench of his feet, but they could still smell those socks. A disgusting mix of vinegar and strong cheese.
Neil saw his opportunity now only one man was holding his legs and began kicking out. The goon that but his trainers on soon put a stop to that, and tied his ankles together with a sock, before cinching it with another. They were nowhere near as tight as he socks on his arms, but with a man holding his legs together as well it was more than enough for now.
The goon that was now free picked up the socks from the floor, one in each hand. He approached Neil’s face. One of his socks was forced over his nose. Neil wiggled around, but was held firm by the other two goons and the socks binding him. He fought against the oppressive aroma. He felt lightheaded almost immediately. He swore he could feel his nostril hairs trying to retract inwards to escape the smell. His handgag was lifted. Neil coughed at the nauseating stench of the sock, but as soon as he opened his mouth, the other sock was forced in his now open mouth, toe end first! He coughed and wretched violently as his tongue made contact with whatever matter was stuck on that sock. Cotton, sweat, toe jam, and millions of bacteria unknown to science. Strong fingers forced more and more of the think cotton soccer sock inside Neil’s mouth. He felt sick. The heel of the sock was crammed in his mouth, and Neil was really regretting not changing his socks more often, and wearing socks that big. The rest of the sock was pretty clean, but none of the clean parts of the sock was going anywhere near Neil’s tastebuds. His mouth was rapidly running out of room now, but the goon kept pushing, finding more space in the cheeks and the roof of his mouth. The goon was eventually satisfied there was no more space in Neil’s mouth. Plus, there was very little sock left to go in his mouth anyway.
[img]
The old man handgagged Neil again. His whining was far quieter than it was before. Not that there was anyone anywhere near him that would rescue him. The goons didn’t want to hear him complain or ask questions. They’d had it before, time and again. Who are you? Where am I? Why are you doing this? It’s too tight. It hurts. Bla Bla Bla.
The free goon took the other sock, and tied a fat knot in the middle. The handgag was removed, and the knot was forced into Neil’s mouth. Half the knot made it, the other half stuck out comically from his lips. The ends of the sock were knotted tightly behind the back of his head. The left side of his face had the clean part of the sock. The right side of his face has the nasty sweaty foot part of the sock. It was tied in such a way that the heel of the sock was touching Neil’s cheek, and the sole was against his hair. Neil’s pleas were almost muted. His breathing was nearly as loud as his desperate cries for help. His coughing at the taste was the most noise he could make.
[img]
One of the goons removed a collar from his pocket and fastened it round Neil’s neck. His ankles were untied and he was pulled to his feet.
“Now, junior. There is someone we want to introduce you to. The Master."
==============================================================================================================================
All pictures of faces are made by generated.photos and are therefore not real. Crude manips done by me in paint. Edited so grammar and spelling don't suck as much as before.