Tau Upsilon Gamma [M+/M+] [update - 3/15/24] NEW POLL

Stories that have little truth to them should go here.

Who should Mason save?

NATE: plug gag, gorilla tape bonds, nipple clamps
2
9%
CODY: duct tape gag, handcuffs, Icy Hot
5
23%
LEO: Hoss' sock gag, rope bonds, tickle torture
11
50%
RAY: bandana gag, slave harness, in his underwear
4
18%
HIMSELF
0
No votes
 
Total votes: 22

Wedgieboy69
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Post by Wedgieboy69 »

Ray is a better man then me. I would have found a way to have some sort of "accident" on the set. I get that Travis tried to help eventually, but he also was part of the group that arranged kidnappings, torture, public humiliation and arson against my friends. call me vengeful, but I would not be forgiving anyone associated with DIX quite so easily.
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Post by wataru14 »

Ray has grown a lot in a short time. Two months ago he'd have smashed Travis to a pulp but he's gotten a little wiser from his experiences. He also understands what it's like to grow up under the eye of an overbearing authority figure and can sympathize with Travis. Even if just a little. But there's a lot more in store for these two as fall unfolds.
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Post by KidnappedCowboy »

I love the Ben Davids!!!
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Post by Volobond »

Oooooh, so much to consider! Everyone's banged and bruised but thankfully it seems like full recoveries are on the horizon!

Brute Squad Media, as always, coming in clutch with the good bondage flicks! Perhaps soon Travis and Ray may be starring in a star-crossed lovers arc of their own... and while I agree with the others that I may not have forgiven Travis, I do see how Ray and Travis have a commonality with tough macho figures putting rigid expectations of behavior, sexuality, and gender on them. All I can say is, I hope Travis can make a clean break and get himself tied up in better things!

Also YAY for Hoss and Nate!!
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Post by wataru14 »


Chapter 2: Hold Me, Daddy

It had been a slow day for Wade at the shop. With the University fire, the news reports that five were boys rescued from the inferno by Diesel in the nick of time, and the Mayor’s earthshaking admission, most people were staying home to watch the news. Not to mention the torrential rain that had been falling since late morning. Even Wade, himself, had the shop TV tuned to the near-constant feed. It was an hour before closing time, but it had been a long while since the last customer and he was thinking of shutting down early for the night. “Might as well,” he said to himself as he turned off the TV. As he made his way around the counter towards the door, however, he was stopped by the telltale sound of the entrance chime.

Getting back into proprietor mode, he said “Welcome” in his "come-hither" voice before he even looked up. At this time of night he was expecting to see the usual thirsty bear couple or awkward, embarrassed vanilla that made up his usual late-night clients. But it wasn’t any of those this night. Standing in the doorway, clad in ridiculous oversize basketball shorts, an MCPD T-shirt, and flip flops, was Scott. He was soaking wet from the rain and stood on the mat like a zombie, afraid to come in. His face was a tortured mask of three different emotions at once, all fighting for dominance, but his eyes were glazed over and distant.

“Baby!” Wade said, running over to Scott. “I saw. I heard.”

“Wade…” Scott stammered, not knowing how to process everything he was feeling. While everything was going on, he was focused on the tasks at hand. And his concern for his Brothers kept his mind on track. But as soon as everything was calm, and he had time to process what had occurred, both to him and the five Pledges, he simply shut down. Danny and Cody noticed his disappearance from the hospital after Hoss and Mason were soundly asleep, but chalked it up to him just going out to smoke. When he didn't come back, they thought he must have taken an Uber to a friend's place and shrugged it off. Serious situations always put him on edge, and this was definitely a serious situation.

Scott was disgusted at himself for abandoning the others, even though they were safe and cared for, but panic had set in and he just needed to be somewhere far away. As he walked, he thought about what could have happened. How he was powerless to stop any of it. And it made him sick to his stomach. Wade hurried over to Scott, standing in the doorway and looking like he was about to topple over. Scott stood there for a moment, tottering and unsure of what to do, then collapsed forward into Wade’s waiting arms. He flung his own arms around Wade’s leather-clad shoulders and hung there like dead weight as his quivering legs gave out. Wade was shocked and barely managed to hold on, supporting Scott as the last bit of strength left him.

“I got you,” Wade said, grabbing Scott around the midsection and pulling him in close, “I always got you. Don’t you worry, boi.” He ran his fingers through Scott’s rain-drenched hair. “You’re positively soaked! Wait, did you… did you walk here?”

“Yeah…” Scott said feebly as he steadied himself. “From the hospital. I had to get out and I didn’t know where else to go. I… I couldn't…” Unable to hold it in any more. Scott burst full-out into tears. He clutched Wade tightly and leaned on him hard for support. “Oh, Wade... The house is gone. Hoss and Mason are all fucked up. DIX took us one by one and they…” He couldn’t keep it in any longer and broke down, burying his face in Wade’s chest.

“Shhh, boy,” Wade cooed, petting Scott’s hair like he would a puppy. He had seen the videos, but there was no need to say anything about that now. “No matter what they did, it doesn’t matter. You’re safe now. With me. Daddy’s here and nothing is gonna hurt you while I’m around.” Wade helped Scott regain his balance and stood him up, stroking his chin with his leather-gloved hand. “I’m going to lock up. Go in the back and get out of those wet clothes. I’ll be there in just a second.” Scott sniffled, drying his eyes with the back of his hand. He was embarrassed to break down in front of Wade like that, but his former Big Bro held no judgement or disappointment. Just an endless, unwavering concern for him. Scott gingerly began walking towards the back, feeling just a little bit better.

“Don’t take long,” he said softly. “I don’t want to be alone.”

“You won’t be,” Wade purred. “Not tonight. Now do as daddy says and be a good boi. I’ll be right there.” Scott nodded and disappeared behind the beaded curtain that separated the storefront from the employee area. Wade lowered the blinds, turned the open sign to closed, and locked the door. He switched off the lights, armed the alarm, and then hurried into the back to meet Scott. “Baby needs me,” he thought. “Tonight more than ever.”

Scott had just peeled off the sopping wet police T-shirt when Wade came in, the heavy footfalls of his leather boots echoing off the floor. The shirt was several sizes too big. “One of Santucci’s,” Wade thought as he watched Scott wring it out into the sink of the break room and drape it over the back of a chair. “Don’t worry about the floor,” Wade said. “A little water won’t hurt anyone. I’ll have Cody mop tomorrow when he punches in.” Scott nodded and forced a small laugh, but Wade knew there was something very wrong. All of Scott’s normal ebullience was nowhere to be seen. He was a pale reflection of himself. The specter that stood before him looked like Scott, but the light inside him was dim. Almost out. Wade shook his head sadly as Scott stepped out of the baggy shorts and placed them on the other chair.

“Have a seat,” Wade said, escorting the naked wreck over to an empty chair and pulling one for himself up beside. He lit two cigarettes and gave one to Scott, who eagerly accepted. When that was done, there was another. And another. They sat for a long while in silence, Wade with his arm around Scott’s and gently rubbing his shoulder. Not talking, just sitting together. Being together. Scott needed human contact and a supportive hand, that was clear to Wade. And it wouldn’t help to force him to talk before he was ready. He just had to offer his presence until Scott was in a mindset to open up. After a little longer, Scott spoke.

“The house is completely gone,” he said sadly. “The whole thing. Everyone’s alive but…”

Wade took Scott’s hand as he trailed off. “I heard about what happened to the house. It's just a place. A place that will be rebuilt. It's the people that matter... you included... and everyone made it out. I know things are upside-down right now but don’t worry. You can stay with me at my place for as long as you need. And I will accept no arguments.” Wade pressed his leather-gloved hand gently over Scott's lips, cutting off his blossoming protest. All that was left was a pleasing mewling sound as Scott felt the soothing pressure against him. For the first time in several days, he felt safe. “But finding a place to stay isn’t why you walked all the way here. You could have called for that. You’ve been through Hell these past few days and you need me. I can see that. And THAT’s why you came here, isn’t it? Like I told you four years ago, we’re family for life. I will take care of everything.” Scott clenched his hand tightly.

“It’s just all so much,” Scott said. “Hoss and Mason… me and Brett… Cody seems fine, but all this has to be affecting him, too. He almost died. They all did. His dad’s here now, but he’s going to need me soon and I can’t be any help to him if I’m like this.”

“You’ve been through a traumatic experience,” Wade said, rubbing Scott’s chest gingerly with his gloved hand. “You can’t be strong all the time. There’s no shame in vulnerability. It’s what makes us human. Bottling it all up is what DIX does. And look at them! Does that help anything? No! You need a release, boy. You need to focus on what’s good and positive. And I know just the way.” Wade’s hand stopped on the TUG tattoo emblazoned on Scott’s right pec. It was the first time he had seen it. It was the same design and placement as his own. Wade stopped for a moment, touched by the tribute. “We’ll get you through this. You need a firm hand to help you. And no one provides that better than I do.”

Scott chuckled and nuzzled in close to Wade. “Thank you, daddy,” he said. “So much has been on my shoulders recently. I feel like I’m drowning. I need to just… let it all go.”

“That you do,” Wade said. “I never thought I’d have to tell you, of all people, to let something roll off your back, but here we are. When the pressure seems too much, all you have to do is ask for help and I’ll come a-running. But for now, you need to relax. Unwind. Get your mind off your troubles so you can heal. And I know you will. With my help. You’re stronger than you think. But for now you don’t have to be strong if you don’t want to. I can be strong enough for both of us. If you want to be weak, be weak. All you have to do right now is… surrender.” Wade leaned in and gave Scott’s earlobe a sultry lick.

Scott tingled at the sensation. He leaned sideways, placing his head on Wade’s shoulder. He closed his eyes and took a long sniff, drawing in Wade’s man-smell. The scent of leather, musky cologne, and smoke. He already felt himself becoming aroused.

“That’s the spirit, boi!” Wade said happily. “Tonight is for you. Whatever you want. And I know what you want. All you have to do is lay back and let daddy do his work.”

Scott smiled and nodded. “I want that very much, daddy,” he purred.

Wade gently sat Scott straight up in the chair and stood up. He walked over to a locker against the wall and took a few things out, holding them behind his back as he took two steps forward. “Come here, boy,” he said, his gentle but hungry tone tickling Scott’s subconscious and flicking all his switches. Scott rose from the chair and started over, but Wade shook his head. He raised a leather-gloved hand and pointed at the floor. Slowly and deliberately. Scott dropped to his hands and knees with a grin and crawled across the open space, head down, stopping at Wade’s black booted feet. He leaned down and gave the bridges of Wade's leather motorcycle boots a good long lick, then rose up into a ready position, shoulders squared with hands behind his back. He gazed up at Wade hungrily. His red and puffy eyes were at the level of Wade’s crotch, and he could see the imprint of Wade’s swelling cock against the codpiece of his leather pants.

Wade nodded in approval and slowly brought the leather collar out from behind his back. Scott raised his chin obediently, exposing his neck.

“Remember this, boy?” Wade purred. “It's the same one that you used to wear during your Pledge days. I kept it special for you. It will serve to remind you that you are mine and always will be.”

“Thank you, daddy,” Scott beamed. Wade bent down and lovingly placed the collar across Scott’s throat. He adjusted the buckle to the perfect tightness and latched it closed on back, sealing it off with a tiny padlock. Scott’s cock throbbed and bounced as Wade stood back up, admiring his work. There was a small ring on the front, over Scott’s adams apple, but nothing was cinched to it. Yet. Wade gently took Scott by the chin and lifted him to his feet.

“Turn around, boi,” he said. Scott got pleasant shivers as he slowly turned, keeping his eyes on Wade as long as he could before facing away. When he was in place, he felt Wade tenderly adjusting the position of his wrists. “You’re out of practice,” Wade chuckled. “This will not do. You need some discipline. Whip you into shape.” He gave Scott a playful swat on his bare ass with his leather-gloved hand for show. It made a loud echoing THWAP, but didn't sting at all. “Or maybe you’re slacking off on purpose just to vex me? Always the cheeky boy, aren’t we?” To accentuate the word, Wade grabbed both of Scott's ass cheeks and squeezed. Scott just laughed and shrugged, in spite of himself, which made Wade smile. Of course, he didn’t let Scott see that while the game was on. When he was satisfied with Scott’s positioning, Wade produced a long black strip from behind him. It wasn’t rope, plastic, or even leather. It was a strange silky material. Strong, but pliant and flexible. Scott twitched again when he felt it pressed against his wrists.

With the skill of a master, Wade wound the soft, silky strip around Scott’s wrists this way and that. Over and under the crossed hands, and then around again crossways. Tighter and tighter it wound, until Scott’s hands were fully and securely imprisoned behind his back by the soothing ribbon. In the hands of a lesser master, this material would have made a tangled, knotty mess. But in Wade’s hands it fluttered into position perfectly. Smooth and clean. When Wade cinched the final knot, Scott’s hands were helplessly fettered in an ornate interwoven net with no hope of escape.

Wade threw his arms around Scott’s shoulders from behind and lustily kissed his neck. “It’s been too long since I had you in my clutches,” he whispered. His tone sent pulses through Scott’s body. “But you’re not fully ready. Some more preparations need to be made.” Wade clicked the chain leash to the ring on Scott’s collar and strode past him confidently, giving a slight tug to get Scott moving. The bound Senior shuffled behind Wade as they left the break room, re-entered the main shop, and headed over to the private playroom on the far side. The room was normally kept locked, saved for well-paying clients, but Wade and Scott had spent many a frisky night inside in the past. Scott shivered with anticipation as Wade opened the door, switched the lights on, and escorted him inside.

The playroom was half as large as the shop itself, with faux stone walls. Rusty iron manacles hung from various places around the perimeter, making it look like a medieval dungeon. Black steel cages of varying sizes occupied each of the four corners, while chains, fetters, gags, cuffs and bales of rope of every imaginable strain hung on display hooks on the far wall. In the middle of the room was a leather sling seat hanging from a black steel frame. “Hoss had been asking about using the playroom,” Wade said. “And he and his new beau will get a freebie once he’s healed enough. But tonight, it’s all ours.” He left Scott alone for a moment to go over to a table in front of the display wall. He returned with a black plastic sheet, which he spread out on the floor, and bade Scott to stand on it.

Wade ran his hands up and down Scott’s torso. “You’ve been neglecting your grooming,” he said. “Hair is for men, not slaves. Bois must be smooth. And you know what that means.” From off the table Wade held up a professional-quality battery-powered shaving clipper. Scott let out a pleasured moan as the device whirred to life and pressed against his pec. With slow, deliberate motions, Wade slid the clipper across Scott’s bare flesh, shearing off the light dusting of sandy blonde hair that adorned his chest and midsection. Ripples of energy pulsed through Scott as the clippers moved, followed by a pass from Wade’s gloved hand to make sure the hair was shorn properly. His nipples hardened in response. When Wade reached his hips, Scott’s member throbbed and pulsed as the clipper danced around the base and balls, neatly shearing off his pubes. He could barely contain himself.

“Easy boi,” Wade said softly in Scott’s ear. “Don’t get all worked up now, this is just the preparation.” Wade gave Scott’s balls a gentle squeeze and tug before getting back to work. When he was finished, Scott’s body was smooth as the day he was born from neck to thighs. “I’ll let you keep your stubble,” Wade said, pinching Scott’s chin, “because I think it's damn hot. And I’ll let you keep the hair on your head, as well. But it is getting shaggy. The annual auction is coming up and I want my boi to fetch a hefty price. We’ll go to the barber tomorrow and get you something sexy.” Scott murmured happily as Wade leaned in and kissed him full out. Hard and hungrily.

When he released Scott’s mouth, Wade moved his boi slightly to the side. He picked up the mat, folded it over, and carried it away. Scott watched him go and return, his eyes fixated on Wade’s plump and round ass, barely contained by the seat of his tight leather pants. After he returned, Wade picked up the leash and walked Scott over to the sling. He effortlessly scooped his boi up in a bridal carry and gently set him down in the swinging leather seat. Scott’s bound hands fit perfectly into the open latticework underneath, assuring they would not be uncomfortably pinned under him. “It’s still adjusted to your dimensions,” Wade said with a grin. “I always keep it ready for my favorite pet.” He kissed Scott again before taking his feet and bringing them up, bending his knees back towards his chest.

Scott’s ankles were brought up to meet leather cuffs hanging from the support straps of the sling at just the right height. Each one was tenderly placed in the cuff and secured with buckles. Scott adjusted his weight and position in response, bringing himself into a comfortable rest in the sling seat. His ass was fully exposed and open. Ready for Wade. His cock pulsed again as the leather-clad dom strutted away, undoing the fly of his pants. “I am not going to gag you,” Wade said, his back to Scott. “I want your mouth unfettered so I can hear your grunts and moans. You’re deliciously loud and I love that about you.” Wade stepped out of his boots and shimmied out of his leather pants and chaps, leaving his vest and armbands on. Then he turned around.

Looking up from the sling, Scott saw Wade at full arousal, slowly advancing on him like a hunting tiger. Wade’s pubes were thick and bushy, a contrast to his own now-smoothly shaved nethers, and ornate tattoo work on his hips framed the monstrous organ, further accentuating its impressive size. Wade tantalizingly put the index finger of one leather glove in his teeth and slowly slipped it off, tossing it aside while he gave himself a few preparatory strokes with his other hand. Then he switched and did the same with the other. Stopping at the sling, he slid on a condom and grabbed a tube of lubricant.

“I hope you’re ready, boi,” Wade said, applying the lubricant to Scott’s waiting hole. Scott flexed his glutes, causing it to pucker slightly.

“I’m ready, daddy,” he said in between eager moans. “I need you.”

“Good boi,” Wade said.

---

Wade wasn’t lying when he said “tonight is for you.” Instead of being rough and predatory, he was gentle and responsive. Taking cues from Scott’s body language and verbalizing to adjust his technique for maximum stimulation. Everything he did was designed to titillate and please his boi, and he did it like the true master he was. He even waited until Scott erupted, sending a tower of ejaculate almost to the ceiling, before allowing himself to release as well. Scott felt the pressure of the warm flood welling up in the condom inside him as he laid back, mewling and purring. All the stress and tension of the last few days melted away. All he could think of was the bliss Wade had given him. He was safe. He was protected. He was loved. Wade kissed him again as he cleaned his quivering, sweaty body off with a damp washcloth.

“You did me proud, boi,” Wade said, gently petting Scott’s hair and smoothing it down. “You still need to get rid of this shaggy mop, though.” Scott chuckled.

“Thank you, daddy,” he said, slightly panting, “this was just what I needed.” Wade smiled and released Scott’s ankles from the fetters. He allowed his boi to stretch out and get circulation going again before scooping him up out of the sling and placing him on his feet.

“Now it’s time to get you home,” Wade said, collecting his discarded clothing from the floor. He picked up the leash and walked Scott out of the playroom, back into the shop, and into the break room. “I’ll have Cody clean up tomorrow. You need your rest.” He sat Scott in one of the chairs, his wrists still bound in the silken ribbon, and lit them both cigarettes. “I took the bike today,” Wade said. “I hope you don’t mind riding bitch.” Scott laughed.

“Behind you?” he said. “I consider that an honor, sir.”

When they were done smoking, Wade dressed and then stood Scott up. Leaving Scott’s soggy clothes where they were, he went into the shop and returned with a pair of jeans and leather boots. “I like that MCPD shirt,” Wade said. “It looks brand new. I think I’ll keep it for the playroom. Lots of fun RP possibilities. I’ve been asking Pasquale for one for ages, but he’s a stingy old bitch. Says it’s against regulation to use official MCPD gear for things like that. But I think that’s Gonzalez talking trough him. Well, joke’s on them both, I guess. I got one anyway.” Scott chuckled as Wade helped him into the jeans and boots. They fit like a dream.

When he was dressed, Scott turned and presented his bound wrists to Wade. “Let me loose and we’ll go,” he said. But all Wade did was chuckle.

“Oh, no, boi,” he said, coming in close. “I’m not releasing you just yet.” He kissed Scott’s neck again, and when his prisoner opened his mouth to let out a soft moan, he stuffed a balled-up cloth into it. Scott purred a wide band of microfoam tape was plastered over his mouth, sealing his jaws and holding the stuffing in. As a final touch, Wade folded a black bandana into a triangle and tied it over Scott’s face like a bandit mask. “There,” he said. “Now no one will be able to tell that you’re my bound and gagged prisoner as we ride.” Wade picked up his heavy Schott Perfecto jacket from the coat rack and lovingly covered Scott’s upper body with it, zipping it closed and securing the waist belt. The empty sleeves hung at Scott’s sides, but his bound arms were pressed firmly against his back inside the leather jacket. Unless you looked closely, Scott looked perfectly normal.

After escorting him outside and locking the door, Wade helped seat Scott on the back of his Harley and strapped the half helmet on his head. After donning his own helmet, Wade kickstarted the bike and they headed for home.

---

The following morning, Scott awoke in Wade’s bed. He was ungagged, but his wrists and ankles were tied spreadeagle to the four posts with silky white rope. He could smell bacon frying. A short time later, Wade emerged in the doorway, clad only in pajama bottoms and carrying breakfast for two on a tray. “We have a long day of shopping ahead,” he said as he slid into bed. “Have to start replacing everything you lost in the fire.”

“You don’t have to…” Scott said, but Wade shut him up by shoving a forkful of scrambled eggs into his mouth.

“Oh, I’m not,” Wade chuckled. “As much as I love ya, I’m not spending my own money to outfit you. You’re not my houseboi, you know.” Scott chuckled as he swallowed the eggs, followed by another helping, erotically fed to him by Wade. “Brett set up an expense account for that. But I get to pick what we buy. I know you adore that ‘party bum’ look you’ve got going, but I have some other ideas.”

“So I’m your personal Barbie Doll, then?” Scott laughed, his eyes focusing on the glass display cases against the far wall of the bedroom.

“Excuse me, boi!” Wade said, feigning insult. “I’ll have you know I don’t collect ‘dolls!’ They are ‘action figures’ and I am shocked you don’t know the difference.” The cases were filled with top-quality, fully articulated, 6-inch figures. Various heroes, villains, and movie and TV characters were set up on the upper and lower shelves, posed and carefully arranged in little dioramas. But prominently displayed in the center of the main shelf were Diesel, Dr. Calamity, and Queer Eye. Several generic policeman figures laid on the floor of the shelf, carefully hogtied with white string by Wade and over-the-mouth gagged with tiny strips of red ribbon. Dr. Calamity and Queer Eye stood above them, posed menacingly, while Diesel stood defiantly across, his arms posed in a double bicep flex.

“Just a big kid at heart,” Scott said.

“Ah, you love it,” Wade responded, tweaking Scott's nipple while his hands were bound to the bed and unable to stop him. When breakfast was done and the pair smoked another cigarette together, Wade crawled back into bed and put his arm around Scott. “We have to get you showered and dressed for our trip to the mall,” he said. “But we have some time. Anything you want to do?”

Scott nestled his head on Wade’s chest. “Just hold me,” he said.

Coming Soon: Chapter 3 – “Your First Time?”
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Post by Guardianbound »

Everyone needs a Wade figure in their lives. I love how wholesome the relationships are between your characters. I wonder who the next chapter's title is referring to.
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Post by gag1195 »

This is why I love this story so much. You really take the time to flesh out this impressively large cast of characters! It would have been so easy not to include this chapter, to let Scott remain the lovable party boy of the frat. But this chapter so wonderfully gave us more nuance to Scott, and further developed the relationship between Scott and Wade!

I can't wait to see how Wade plans to change Scott's wardrobe for the better!
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Post by Volobond »

I'm utterly delighted to see Scott getting what he needs from his Daddy. And really glad that Wade made sure to keep him well-secured! The action figures bound up were a nice touch as well!
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Post by Wedgieboy69 »

I decided to go back and re-read all the bid night chapters tonight. still some of the best work on this site. nothing against the rest of the chapters, but I think those are my favorite
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Post by wataru14 »

Wedgieboy69 wrote: 1 year ago I decided to go back and re-read all the bid night chapters tonight. still some of the best work on this site. nothing against the rest of the chapters, but I think those are my favorite
Thanks for the compliment! It really means a lot! :mrgreen: :mrgreen: :mrgreen:
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Post by KidnappedCowboy »

I really love how the relationship between Scott and Wade is developing. Wade takes care of Scott's need for bondage, but it is Wade's caring of Scott that drives the Daddy/boi coupling. "Just hold me" says it all.

Well Done, my friend.
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Post by wataru14 »


Chapter 3: Your First Time?

Mason was grumpy and stiff from lying in bed all week. His oxygen tube was chafing his upper lip and nose. Even the smell of the hospital disinfectant was making his blood boil. He fidgeted a little, then reached up to adjust his tube, only to have his hand slapped away by Cody. “Nah ah,” Cody said. “Leave it be. The doctors put it in that way and that’s how it’s gonna stay. They know best.” Mason grumbled, but relented, softening a little when Cody handed him an extra pillow.

He looked happily at the collection of flowers and well-wishing gifts that adorned his dresser. A lot were from the TUG guys, but there was a nice setup from the skate park kids, one from the physics olympiad team, and a beautiful spread from the Delta sisters. At first he was shocked at the outpouring of support, but Ray told him that he shouldn’t be. He was beginning to make a name for himself on campus and Mason found, much to his surprise, that people actually did like him for himself. It was a strange feeling.

Leo wandered over to the nightstand and picked up the full-face oxygen mask Mason had to wear at night. It was a clear plastic muzzle and thick hose that covered the entire lower half of his head. He put it over his nose and mouth and wheezed. “You merely adopted the dark,” he said in a lilting voice. “I was born in it, moulded by it. I didn't see the light until I was already a man, by then it was nothing to me but BLINDING!”

“Thank you guys for staying with me,” Mason said in between laughs and heavy breaths. “It means a lot.”

“Don’t sweat it, M-Dawg,” Leo said, hopping up to sit on the end of the bed. “No way we’re going to let you get through this by yourself. But I will say that as soon as I hear the words ‘sponge bath’ I’m outta here.”

“At least the orderlies are hot,” Mason said as switched off the TV. “Nothing on, anyway.” He was getting restless. He was still waiting on his discharge papers and wanted nothing more than to get out of there. He, Nate, and Leo had been working on the next D&D session pretty heavily, but he was getting bored just lying in bed. He hadn’t been able to go to the skate park, he hadn’t been able to work out with Danny… and it was driving him mad.

Cody was sitting in a chair beside the bed, watching him like a hawk for any sign of discomfort. The mother hen routine was nothing new for Cody, but ever since he had been here he seemed a little distracted. Mason could definitely sense something was off. Cody had been extra quiet and had been fidgeting uncomfortably for some time. “Hey, Cody,” he said, “You OK?”

“Huh?” Cody said absently. “Yeah. I just don’t like hospitals. Brings up bad memories.”

“Bad memories?” Leo teased. “What, did they have to sew your dick back on after a tragic rodeo mishap?”

Cody rolled his eyes and chuckled. “Nothing like that,” he said. “It’s kinda related to the first time I ever got tied up. For real, I mean. Not just for play. But it’s nothing. Don’t worry about it.”

“Now there’s an idea for a party game,” Leo said, swiping the chocolate milk from Mason’s lunch tray. “Too bad we don’t have real drinks. But that does bring up an interesting question. What was the first time you ever got tied up? I remember mine. What about you, Mason?”

Mason laid back and thought for a minute. “Hmmm, I guess it would be playing war games with Ray in the woods behind our houses,” he said. “He always made me be the ‘bad guys.’ The Germans, the VC, the Soviets, the Taliban… he was always the US Marines, naturally. Normally he’d just pop up out of the woods and light me up with paintballs, but this one time he decided to take me prisoner.”

“We were about 12 or 13 at the time,” Mason said. “And it was 4th of July Weekend. I was walking through the woods with my paintball rifle and a set of Ray’s extra cammies, looking for any sign of him. I never managed to land any hits if I found him, but I never stopped trying. Anyway, I was checking his usual favorite hiding places when I heard a crackling behind me. Like someone walking on dry leaves. I spun around and fired wildly, but there was nothing there. Just a big rock that had been thrown from off the trail out of the brush. I realized it was a distraction a second too late. Before I could turn around, I felt the barrel of Ray’s paintball rifle jammed into my back.”

“’Surrender, insurgent!’ Ray said. I didn’t want to get shot at point blank range, so I dropped my rifle and put my hands up.”

“’I surrender,’ I said. ‘You win again, Ray. Let’s go back to the house and go in the pool. It’s hot and I want to cool off.’”

“’Prisoners of war don’t get to make demands of the US Marines!’ Ray said. ‘I’m taking you back to HQ for interrogation!’ I felt the gun barrel leave my back, but before I could do anything, Ray grabbed my wrists and wrestled my arms behind me. I struggled and squirmed, but you know how much stronger he is than me. There was no chance. He held my wrists together and tied them behind me with clothesline one-handed. I felt like he had it prepped and ready just for this purpose. ‘Come on, Ray!’ I said, ‘game’s over. Let me go!’”

“’You talk too much, prisoner,’” he said. I saw him slip a camo bandana over my head and tie it between my teeth. Based on what I know now, it was a pretty lame tie and gag job, but back then it felt pretty severe. Once he had me gagged, he pushed me forward and walked me back to his yard.”

“The Major and Ray’s two older brothers were barbecuing and laughed their asses off when I popped out of the woods with Ray behind me. ‘What you got there, son?’ the Major said.”

“’A prisoner of war!’” Ray answered proudly.”

“’Looks like you got him tied up pretty good,’ the Major said. ‘But let’s see. Enemy prisoners can be slippery.’ Ray’s two brothers, who were both enlisted already, came over and spun me around, checking my bonds. ‘Pretty good,’ his oldest brother, AJ, said. ‘But you can do better.’ Like a flash the two of them retouched my ropes. Tightening them up and making the knots a lot stronger. ‘This is how you get trained to do it in the Corps.’”



“An instant later, AJ and his other brother, Paul, grabbed Ray by the neck and tackled him to the ground. All three were wrestling around and laughing like idiots. I decided to make a run for it, but the Major blocked me and grabbed me by the shoulders. ‘Uh uh, prisoner,’ he said. ‘No escaping today!’ He turned me around and I saw Ray being held down by Paul and being tied by AJ. They were 20 and 19 and born scrappers. Ray is strong, but they had him dead to rights. They were all still laughing like jackasses. In a matter of seconds, Ray’s hands were tied behind his back with expert precision and his feet were tied together, and then they were brought up together and tied into a tight bundle. When his brothers got up, Ray was totally hogtied and rolling around on the grass.”

“’That’s the way we do it in the Corps!’ AJ said, giving Paul a high-five.”

“Don’t forget we have another prisoner,” the Major said, and pushed me over to them. His two sons pulled me to the ground and hogtied me next to Ray. And they were as good as they bragged. They’d have done very well in TUG. Then Paul pulled a USMC bandana off the clothesline and used it to gag Ray like he had done to me before.”

‘You two prisoners sit tight now,’ Paul said. ‘If you’re good we’ll let you loose when the burgers are ready.’ And then they walked away to grab some beers. They left us like that, squirming and rolling in the grass until the food was done.”

Cody chuckled. “Sounds like a fun time,” he said. “But I’m guessing that wasn’t Ray’s first. With brothers like that he probably got roped up quite a lot.”

“That he did,” Mason said. “But you’ll have to ask him about that. What about you, Leo. What’s your story?”

“It’s not as interesting as yours,” Leo said. “I was about 8 and my mom was out at a drum circle or crystal healing seminar or something. I don’t remember exactly. But she had hired a girl from two floors up to babysit me. Being me, I had been running amok all evening and I guess she had enough of it. Not much to say, really. But once word got out that tying me to a chair would calm me down, it seemed to happen quite a lot. Funny, that.” Leo smirked.

“What about you, Cody?” Mason said. “The way you were talking before, it sounds pretty significant. You want to tell us? I mean, I understand if you don’t, though.”

Cody thought for a minute. There was no reason to be secretive, after all they had been through together. It wasn’t a happy story, but if he could share it with anyone, it would be them.

“It was two years ago. Dad and me were on the road, traveling with the rodeo. Been that way for as long as I could remember. No permanent home, no real structure. Just going where the show led. At this particular time were in Oklahoma for the National Finals. I had just come in second in the Junior Championships. Wouldn’t win it until the following year. But dad was set to ride for the adult title the next day.”

---

Schooling was done for the week, and with the junior competition over, Cody and some of the other boys in the group had free time and decided to slip away to have a little celebration. There was a secret clearing in the woods just off the trailer area that they often stole off to for illicit fun, away from their parents’ watchful eyes. Cody had filched a bottle of Jack and pack of smokes from his dad’s supply and Cooper said he could get some beer and maybe a joint, so the boys were set to have a little party to celebrate the end of the season. Being the end of summer, Cody just wore his faded jeans and a ribbed tank top, along with his ride-worn boots and cowboy hat.

It felt good to let off some steam from the stress of the Finals. Cooper had managed to get two sixpacks of cheap swill, which was plenty enough for the group. They spent a few hours horsing around, drinking and being boys, while their dads practiced for the big competition tomorrow. But everyone knew the outcome was already decided. LJ was a strong favorite to win and everyone knew that he’d take home the prize. Cody was a little embarrassed, but no one seemed to give him any grief over it. The makeshift party went on until the summer sun went down. They had a small campfire going for light, but the creeping shadows soon became too much for the dying embers to fight off. One by one, the boys drifted off to their trailers until only Cody was left.

“Look at this place!” he said to himself. “Looks like a tornado hit it. It ain’t right to leave it like this.” Grabbing a plastic garbage bag he brought along, Cody started cleaning up the clearing, throwing away the empty bottles and dumping the ashtrays. He was about halfway done when he got a very nasty shock. He nearly jumped out of his skin when he saw the beam of a flashlight hit the ground near his booted feet and slowly make its way up his legs until it reached his face, blinding him. He froze in place, bag in hand, unable to see who had stumbled upon the clearing.

“Shit!” he thought. “It’s the cops! And here I am underage with a bag full of bottles. And my breath will probably give me away if I try to lie my way out of it. Oh well, better face the music.” Cody blinked a few times, shielding his eyes with his hand. “Evening,” he said to the unseen figure in the dark.

“It’s the Jessup Boy!” a voice said. Cody blinked again as the figure holding the flashlight stepped closer. He had heard that voice before. It was one of the other rodeo riders in the Adult Circuit, but he couldn’t place who’s. And with the light shining in his eyes he couldn’t see the speaker’s face. Two other burly figures melted out of the darkness behind him. “We’ve been looking all over for you.”

Cody breathed a sigh of relief. “We weren’t gone that long? I thought you were the cops!” he said, putting the bag down and wiping the sweat off his forehead with the back of his hand. “Thought I was gonna get run in and miss the big show tomorrow.” Cody still couldn’t see around him, but he heard the two others move closer to him. Each went to one side. He was relieved to see them at first, but now he was getting an uneasy feeling. If he had full use of his faculties, he would have bolted. But after a few beers and a good portion of the JD bottle, he was off his game. The world swayed slightly and his sense of direction was out of order.

“No, we ain’t the cops,” the voice said with a chuckle. “But you ARE going to miss the show tomorrow.” Taking the signal, the other two men grabbed Cody from either side with vicelike grips. One clamped his gloved hand hard over Cody’s mouth and pinned his arms while the other went low and scooped his feet out from under him.

“MMMPPPGGHHHH!!!” Cody grunted, bucking and flailing like mad against the strong, calloused hands that held him. They almost lost their grip on him from all his struggling, but they managed to hold firm. Cody felt himself being slammed down hard onto the impacted ground below, knocking the wind out of him. His face was planted into the dirt and held down. All he could see was their faded boots. As his head swam, he heard the leader say “Kid fights like a demon! Hurry up and get him tied before he brings the whole camp down on us!” as he ran over, slipping some bandanas out of his hip pocket.

Cody was too disoriented to effectively fight. As he tried to get his breath back, he felt his arms being cruelly wrenched behind him and ropes cutting into the flesh of his wrists. It enclosed tightly, pressing his wrists together and sealing them in place. The leader knelt down and grabbed him by the hair, pulling his head back. Craning his head as he fought, Cody could see that all three men were masked with bandit-style bandanas over their faces. Cody’s mouth involuntarily dropped open as his head tilted back and a dusty, balled-up rag was quickly stuffed inside. Cody tried to spit it out, but was distracted by one of the other men firmly roping his booted ankles together, then his knees. While Cody was momentarily stunned, he felt duct tape wrapping around his jaw, sealing the stuffing in place. His strength slowly returning, Cody tried to holler for help, but all that came out was a weak muffled grunt. He wriggled in impotent frustration, the heels of his boots clicking together as he squirmed.

The three captors stood up and looked down at their bagged prize, wriggling and writhing in the dirt. He struggled valiantly, trying to loosen the ropes ensnaring his wrists behind his back, but the knots were expertly tied. Rodeo men knew their knots, after all. A sinking, trapped feeling washed over him. He had been bound a few times by his rodeo friends during horseplay, but this was different. These men were not playing around. This was deadly serious and he realized that he had no way out. He was trapped and at their mercy.

“Looks like we got him,” the leader said, wiping his hands on his pants. Cody tried to crane his head back to look, eager to get some clue as to his captors’ identities, but when he tried, a booted foot pressed down on his neck, forcing his gaze forward into the darkness. “You two get him over to the place and I’ll make the call.” Cody stopped, puzzled at that statement. Call? Who would he be calling? Why did they jump him? Certainly not for a ransom. None of the riders had a tremendous amount of money, LJ especially. Cody didn’t have much time to contemplate this, however, as he was dragged from the ground, hauled up, and tossed over one of the riders’ shoulders like a sack of flour. He saw the leader from behind, bending down and pick up his hat from the dirt, just before a stiff cloth was tied around his eyes. They carried him a short distance, and then slid him into the back seat of a truck. Cody tried one last impotent scream before the truck door closed and they drove off into the night.

---

When the truck finally stopped and Cody was hauled out, kicking and grunting, he had no idea where they were. The adrenaline from his abduction had sobered him up real quick, but he couldn’t get his bearings while they drove. And his captors were silent the whole ride. They didn’t want him to be able to focus on their voices and possibly identify them. Which means he knew these guys. But why would they kidnap him like this? Cody was slung over one of their shoulders and carried into some sort of building. He could hear his captors’ boots thunking against the wood floor. He was carried a short distance and gently deposited into a high-backed wooden chair.

His captors were being careful with him, Cody noticed. Which he hoped meant they didn’t want to hurt him. A good sign. If his mouth wasn’t gagged he could try to plead with them for his release, but the dusty bandana stuffing his jaws and the tape over it made that impossible. And the rag over his eyes kept him blind. Even if they were masked, their clothes or body shapes could give some insight as to who they were. But there was no chance of that happening. Cody felt more rope being applied around his torso and lap, tethering him tightly to the chair. It cut into his flesh, his flimsy tank top offering little protection from the chafing bonds. When he was fully secured, he squirmed a little, but he already knew the ropes would be tight and escape-proof. After a second or two of feeble resistance, he sat back to accept his fate.

“We got him tied down,” one of his captors said. “He ain’t goin’ nowhere.” After getting a response that Cody couldn’t make out through the phone, his captor hung up and came over to him. “OK,” he said, “here’s how this is gonna work. You just sit tight and be a good boy and this will all be over tomorrow evening. You’ll go home to daddy and you’ll never see us again. But if you give us any trouble, or try to escape, then there will be serious problems.” Cody heard the click of a shotgun being cocked nearby. He shivered a little and nodded his head slowly. “Good boy,” was the response. “Sorry this had to happen to you, son. Ain’t got nothing to do with you. But your daddy has to lose tomorrow and this is the only way to make sure that happens.”

Cody was floored. So THAT’s why he was kidnapped! He was being held hostage to force his father to throw the finals! As the heavy favorite, he had low odds, meaning that his competitors could make big money betting on an upset. Cody immediately thought of LJ. He wouldn’t give two shits about the Finals if he knew his son’s life was in danger. By now the ransom call must have been made and his kidnappers’ terms laid out. Cody’s heart sank when he thought of the anguish LJ must be going through right now.

The TV was turned on and its staticky hum was the only sound in the room, other than Cody’s occasional mppgghhing. After an hour or two, the TV was shut off and Cody’s gag was removed. Under strict orders not to talk, Cody allowed himself to be fed and given water before the gag went back in. The blindfold was never removed, though. After that he was released from the chair and taken outside to relieve his bladder. His hands were left tied, but his captors lowered his pants for him so he could take a quick piss on the ground. After they dressed him back up, they brought him back inside. If he was allowed to do that outdoors, there must be no one around to see. A secluded shack in the wilderness somewhere. Even if he could escape, he had no idea where he was and would just end up wandering the wilds aimlessly. He resigned himself to his helplessness as he was lashed to the chair again for the night. Shortly after, he heard snoring from his captors.

Once he was sure they were both out, Cody tried one last time to free his hands. But he made no headway. Every time he thought he was about to slip a wrist out of the bonds, he just couldn’t manage it. The loops were too tight and the knots were to secure. There was no slack to be found. He wasn’t getting out of this until one of his kidnappers decided to let him out. With nothing else to do, Cody allowed himself to fall into a heavy, dreamless sleep.

---

Leo and Mason were aghast. “Holy shit!” Leo said. “I was expecting some sort of homoerotic cowboy bro-play, not a real-deal kidnapping! What happened then?”

“The next day I just sat there,” Cody said. “They fed me and let me piss again in the morning, but other than that they just left me alone. In the early afternoon they turned the TV on and started watching the finals. The whole thing. Until it was time for LJ’s ride.”

“That’s when the accident happened, isn’t it?” Mason said. “I remember the Major and his family were watching the finals on TV and talked about it for a long time afterwards.” Cody just nodded, but Leo was confused.

“What happened?” he asked. “What accident?”

Cody didn’t seem to be able to talk about it, so Mason explained. “LJ was doing really well at first, but after a few seconds he just slipped off and fell. It didn’t look like he did it on purpose, but it was strange. The bull didn’t buck all that hard. Everyone wondered why a pro like him got thrown by such a little kick, but now it all makes sense. Anyway, the bull didn’t run the way he usually did after throwing someone and trampled straight over LJ’s leg.”

“The two guys who were holding me started panicking,” Cody said. “They jumped up from their seats, shouting and cursing. I remember one saying ‘Oh shit! That wasn’t supposed to happen!’ They made some quick phone calls, but everything was frantic and scared-sounding. The next thing I knew I was back in the truck going 80 down the highway. They dropped me off back at the clearing and partially loosened the ropes, telling me to keep the blindfold on for two minutes before trying to get free. Then they drove off. I never found out who they were.”

“I ran back to the camp and someone drove me to the hospital,” Cody continued, “I got there after LJ’s surgery was done. He cried when he saw me. Only time I ever saw him do that. And he hugged me tight saying he thought he was gonna lose me. He felt like he would never let me go. But when he did I looked down and saw his entire leg was in a full cast. The doctors managed to get his leg fixed with pins and shit, and it would heal eventually, but he would never be able to ride again.”

“So that’s why he limps,” Leo said. “Fuck! I’m sorry, bro. That’s terrible.”

“The rodeo’s insurance paid for everything,” Cody said. “All dad’s medical bills. LJ thinks the owner might have been involved somehow, but there was never any proof. But either way, LJ’s treatment and physical rehab was covered. It wouldn’t cost us a thing. The owner gave LJ a permanent job as assistant manager and head animal keeper if he wanted it. He took it, of course, but I knew it was hard for him. Being around everything but not being able to ride. They also set up a scholarship fund for me to go college. But LJ’s riding days were over. His leg would heal, but he’d never be back to the level he was before.

“The manager had said the bull was to be put down, but LJ stopped that right in its tracks. ‘As head keeper, that’s my decision now, ain’t it?’ he asked. ‘It’s just an animal being an animal. You can’t blame him for that. No one died. Nothing else has to, either.’”

“I’m so sorry…” Leo said, uncharacteristically somber.

“It wasn’t so bad,” Cody shrugged. “We had a lot more time together, at least. After he got out of the cast and back to work he took me with him to care for the animals. And I love animals. But I can still see how he misses riding.”

A doctor knocked on the door and entered the room with Brett and Shane. “Mason?” he said. “I have your discharge papers here. You’re free to go back to the dorms and return to classes on Monday. You’ll have to stay on oxygen for a few weeks, though. I’ll make the decision of when to take you off that after a few checkups.”

“Can I go to the gym?” Mason asked eagerly.

“Yes,” the doctor said with a chuckle. “But take it easy. No cardio. Nothing too strenuous. Your friend Brett here was given medical proxy powers by your parents so he’ll be signing you out and taking you home.” Shane, Cody, and Leo loaded up Mason’s gifts and belongings into Shane’s car, but Brett walked Mason over to his suped-up ride. The expensive luxury car Nate had seen in the garage. Brett dangled the keys in front of Mason.

“I never let anyone do this, but… how do you feel about taking her for a ride?” Brett said. “We don’t have to go back to the dorms right away. There’s a long, straight strip of highway about 30 minutes from here. You can really open her up and see how fast she goes.” Mason was dumbfounded, but eagerly grabbed the keys with a smile and hopped into the driver’s seat. Brett got in beside him. “Just be careful, OK,” Brett teased. “My mechanic is laid up and I won’t have anyone else touch my baby but him. Try not to crash too hard.”

Mason felt the expensive steering wheel in awe. Top-of-the-line Italian luxury. Manual transmission, but that was no big deal. The Major had taught both him and Ray how to drive stick years ago. Adjusting his oxygen, Mason turned the ignition and honked at the others as they sped out of the parking lot and onto the highway.

“I do have some bad news, though,” Brett said after they turned the corner to the open road. “Due to your health limitations, you won’t be able to go on the block for the auction. Hoss, either. Which is a shame because we’ve had a lot of interest expressed in BOTH of you.” Brett happily punched Mason’s arm. “Jaquan doesn’t participate, either, but that’s because his soon-to-be-fiancee would have his ass in a sling if he did. But that brings me to my next question. How do you feel about MCing?”

Coming Soon: In This Corner...
Last edited by wataru14 1 year ago, edited 1 time in total.
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Post by gag1195 »

It's funny that after all this time with the pledges getting tied up, that they hadn't shared their pre-TUG bondage experiences with each other yet. It royally sucks that Cody's first time was so terrifying and had such negative consequences, but I'm glad it didn't scare him off of tugs. And its also great to see that the TUG reputation around campus is still remaining strong, and that Mason is starting to see the fruits of Danny's efforts! It's a shame that Mason and Hoss won't be able to participate in the auction, especially since it's Hoss' last year. (Though I'm sure that Nate is probably relieved deep down.) And Mason will hopefully be that much more desirable for next year's auction!
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Post by Guardianbound »

This auction is shaping up to be quite the event. No wonder LJ was surprised when he found out what TUG was about.
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Post by Volobond »

Ooof, poor Cody. I still feel bad for him and for LJ. Too bad LJ didn't seem too into bondage - I'm sure lots of guys here would want to console him as his captor or captive. As for Cody, I'm glad it didn't traumatize him towards bondage altogether.

I wonder if they'll bring any substitutes to the auction to make up for the loss of a spitfire slave like Mason or a captive gladiator like Hoss. Heh, maybe the DIX brothers must join as penance, or maybe Travis will put in a silent bid on Ray.

As for me... I'm still unsure of my bid. ;) Cody's always a contender with me, but I could be persuaded to bid for Brett as my boy, Shane as a slave, or Danny as my dominated beefcake. Maybe Luis or Gavin from the junior class.

Love your writing so much, [mention]wataru14[/mention], even at the non kinky parts! I've grown to absolutely adore this story with my whole heart.
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Post by KidnappedCowboy »

Just saw this update.

Feel so sorry for Cody and his Dad.

One good thing to come out of it is that the ordeal brought them closer.

Looking forward to the Auction

And the starting bid is... :twisted: :twisted: :twisted:
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Post by wataru14 »

The auction will probably be a multi-parter. I want to give all the boys their time to shine. The next chapter should be up Sunday and then I'm going out of town for a week and a half, so the auction will be a bit delayed. Apologies all around but Disney World is a jealous master. And I will be seeing friends I haven't seen in years, so I won't have much time for writing.
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Post by KidnappedCowboy »

Enjoy, [mention]wataru14[/mention] the time away and catching up with old friends!

Nothing better, imho! :)

In the meantime, we will all eagerly await each character basking in the sunlight...lazing lassoed and muzzled, that is! :twisted:

And we'll be gathering our chips to bid for those bound and gagged lads!! :lol: :lol:
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Post by Volobond »

I second each of [mention]KidnappedCowboy[/mention] 's points! Have a great time with friends as we all eagerly gather up our bids!
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Chapter 4: In This Corner…

Travis dropped onto his bed like a dead man. His head throbbed and his arms and legs were sore. Tonight was an exceptionally rigorous forced workout for the DIX pledges and the Seniors were working out a lot of nervous tension over the events of the last week. Everyone knew that if the Mayor hadn’t taken the bullet for them in the TUG House Fire debacle, the entire group would be in prison right now. People were on edge. Tense. Ready for the hammer to fall on their false sense of security. And the Pledges were the unlucky souls who bore the brunt of it. Travis had done more than 500 pushups that day (he lost count) and he could barely move his arms.

After dropping his bookbag on the floor, Travis stripped out of his pledge clothes right there in the middle of the room. His roommate was so used to this he didn’t even look up from his laptop. Travis just undressed down to the skimpy briefs Pledges were required to wear at all times and just collapsed on the bed face-first. He fell asleep almost instantly still on top of the covers.

---

It was chilly. And loud. There was a draft blowing in from somewhere and the rumble of a huge number of voices coming from nearby. Travis’ eyes shot open, unsure of his surroundings. He blinked a few times and found he wasn’t in his room anymore. Instead, he was sitting on a concrete bench in some sort of locker room. He was alone, but there was a din of voices coming from just beyond a nearby set of open double doors, masked by a red velvet drape. Feeling the draft intensify, Travis looked down. Instead of his briefs, he was wearing a set of bright blue trunks that left nothing to the imagination. Almost a speedo. On his feet was a pair of matching blue lace-up boots and he was also wearing bright blue kneepads. His upper body was bare and white athletic tape was wound around each wrist. A towel was draped loosely over his shoulders.

Confused, Travis stood up as he heard the rumbling voices from beyond the curtain intensifying. The locker room was empty other than him, so with nothing else to do he decided to see what all the tumult was about. He dropped the towel on the bench and stepped through the curtain.

The moving spotlights hit him almost immediately and there was the loud clanging of a bell being hit with a hammer. A man’s oily voice ripped through the air. “Tonight’s match is scheduled for one fall. Introducing first, from Douchebagville, USA. Travis “The Arsonist” McJobberson!!!!”

The lights retreated from Travis and he saw he was standing on a long red carpet that led to a wrestling ring in the center of a huge arena. The crowd, their faces obscured in the dark, began to boo and hiss. Travis backed up, trying to escape back into the locker room, but when he reached the entrance, it was gone. Just solid wall. He turned back and was hit in the face by a balled-up piece of paper. With no other options, Travis slowly walked down the runway to the ring, narrowly dodging a thrown drink cup. Time seemed to slow down as he moved, the grotesque taunting and booing of the crowd being distorted as well. After what felt like an eternity, Travis reached the ring and hopped up on the apron.

He attempted to climb over the ring ropes, but his booted foot got caught and he awkwardly tumbled head-over-heels into the ring. The crowd laughed. Even the referee and ring announcer laughed. He awkwardly stood up and brushed himself off, moving sheepishly into a corner.

“I must be dreaming,” Travis thought. “That’s gotta be it.” He tried to gain some focus and force himself awake, but found he couldn’t manage it. “Guess tonight took more out of me than I thought. Looks like I’m in this for the duration. If Freddy Krueger comes out next, though, I’m getting the hell out of here.”

“And in this corner,” the ring announcer bellowed, “is the reigning champion! Hailing from Studtown, USA… RAY “MAJOR PAIN” FLANNERY!!!!”

The crowd erupted in cheers as a military cadence played over the loudspeaker. Ray emerged from the darkness at the top of the runway and strutted down without a care in the world. He was dressed in camo cargo pants, black combat boots, an open flak jacket, and camo military cap. His eyes were covered by mirrored aviator sunglasses. When he got to the ring, he vaulted the ropes like a pro, stretched out a few times, and saluted the crowd. They ate it up and asked for seconds. Travis was mortified. “I have to fight Ray???” he thought. “In a wrestling ring? Oh, man this is bad.”

“Tonight’s match will be a no-disqualification slugfest with a special twist!” the ring announcer said. “No pinfalls, no submissions! The only way to win… is to incapacitate and restrain your opponent!” Runners on the floor walked up to the two neutral corners and laid out an assortment of bondage gear: lengths of pre-cut rope, plastic cable ties, handcuffs and chains… a wide and varied array. Travis’ eyes widened and he could feel himself getting aroused. Remembering what he was wearing, his skin flushed beet red and he immediately shot his hands down to cover his expanding erection. But it was too late. A spotlight whirled over and illuminated his expanding crotch for all the world to see. The crowd was howling with laughter. “Looks like one of our combatants is really looking forward to this match,” the ring announcer said. “But that’s not all, folks! There are special stakes in this bout!”

The ring announcer took the Championship Belt from around Ray’s waist. “Not only is the title on the line, but…” he reached into the inner pocket of his tuxedo jacket and took out a leather collar and chain leash. “…the loser is enslaved by the winner! That’s right, folks, it’s a SLAVE MATCH!” The announcer’s voice ominously echoed through the arena and crowd riotously cheered its approval. Travis slunk back into his corner while Ray took off his hat and flak jacket. Travis just stared in awe. This was Ray, but it was more than Ray. An idealized version ripped right from his subconscious desires. Ray’s muscles, while already large and defined in real life, were exaggeratedly ripped. His face, although already handsome, was now stunning in its beauty. With a full square jaw and piercing blue eyes. Travis was mesmerized! He was so fixated on Ray’s perfect form that he didn’t even hear the bell ringing, signifying the start of the match.

Ray wasted no time and charged across the ring at Travis, catching him unawares and locking up his arms. He lifted Travis up and spun him around into an armbar before parading him around the ring mockingly. Travis, of course, squirmed in an attempt to wriggle free, but all he could feel was the heat of Ray’s body pressed against his as he stumbled forward in a circle. After a few turns, Ray picked him up and flipped him backwards, tossing him into the air. Travis landed hard on his back…

Or at least he thought he did. He felt a light impact, but that was it. The ring creaked and the crowd gasped and “oohed,” but Travis felt nothing. This was show wrestling, after all, and a dream. Not real. “So that means no pain,” Travis surmised. And if he was dreaming, then he could do things he couldn’t normally do. He could control things somewhat. It was his mind, after all. Psychologists called it “lucid dreaming.” Testing his theory, Travis did a martial-arts kickup and rolled out of the way as Ray barreled across, swiping at him in a grab attempt. So he wasn’t totally defenseless, after all! With a grin, Travis did a tuck-and-roll and sailed past Ray before launching himself to his feet.

While Ray’s back was turned, Travis did a standing dropkick and connected square with Ray’s back, sending him sprawling forward into the turnbuckle with a thud. While Ray staggered, trying to regain his composure, Travis swiped a pair of handcuffs from the apron.

“Ooh,” the ring announcer bellowed, “it looks like the jobber is trying to end this quickly! But will he manage to secure the champ? Is an eternity of slavery in ‘Major Pain’s’ future or will he turn the tables???”

Travis carefully approached Ray with the cuffs in hand and reached for his wrist, dangling invitingly over the ring ropes. Closer… closer…

WHAM! Ray sprang into the air and kicked his legs back, catching Travis around the neck in a wicked headscissors. Dazed, Travis dropped the cuffs. He felt the muscles in Ray’s legs squeezing him through the camo pants. “Mmmmm,” he thought, and gave Ray’s bulging calf a quick stroke as he pretended to grab and pry himself free. “Rock-hard…”

Ray was supporting himself on the top ropes with his powerful arms while he squeezed Travis. He looked like he was doing a pushup in midair. Then, with almost superhuman agility, Ray pushed back and spun. As he flipped, he brought Travis with him, head over heels, and released, sending him flying across the ring and landing against the ropes on the opposite side. He dropped to his knees, his arms outstretched and clutching the top rope for support.

With a snarl, Ray ran over and, before Travis could react, grabbed the middle rope. With almost superhuman speed, he pulled the middle rope up and over the top rope. Travis’ outstretched arms were caught in the middle and were now helplessly trapped!

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With his opponent bound up in the ring ropes and unable to defend himself, Ray began furiously punching Travis’ exposed and defenseless abs. Again, it didn’t hurt, but Travis felt his body involuntarily reacting as was appropriate. His midsection contorted with each blast and grew red from the impact of Ray’s fists as he let out “oofs” and grunts. After about two dozen rapid punches kicks, Ray grabbed the ring ropes and disentangled Travis’ arms. Smirking, he grabbed his tottering opponent by the hair and callously tossed him face-first to the mat. And then Ray was on him.

Ray jumped on the small of Travis’ back and interlocked his fingers. He grabbed under Travis’ chin and leaned back, pulling up and lifting his victim’s front end off the mat. “Oh, the dreaded Camel Clutch!” the ring announcer shouted. Travis’ arms jutted out uselessly at his sides, bent in an awkward position over Ray’s knees, but he wasn’t interested in escape. All he could think about was the pressure from Ray’s body against his. The sweat from Ray’s muscles dripping and splotching against his bare back. His smell… his feel… his heat… Travis mewled gently and sprang to full arousal in his tight blue trunks. His erection was uncomfortably pressed against the mat beneath him, and no matter what he did he couldn’t will it back down.

After a short time of maintaining the hold, Ray released it and let Travis flop down to the mat. Travis felt weak and his movements were groggy. It was difficult to even attempt to stand up. Ray took advantage of Travis’s stupor to strut over to the corner and grab a rope from the floor. He prepared it in his hands with a cocky grin as he walked back over to his staggered foe. “Looks like the champ is ready to bag his new slave!” the announcer said, drawing excited cheers from the crowd. Ray bent down and snatched up Travis’ right wrist, looping one end of the rope around, tying it off and cinching the knot tight.

Feeling is strength returning, Travis did a quick leg sweep and Ray went down. He sprung to his feet, the rope still secured and dangling from his wrist. Doing a quick flex to draw some boos out of the crowd, Travis picked Ray up and hurled him backward towards the ring ropes. Ray bounced off and rocketed forward, straight at Travis. He was winding up for a powerful clothesline, but Travis ducked under, whirled around, and grabbed at Ray as he went past. One arm seized Ray’s forehead and the other pressed in under his chin. Then Travis grabbed his own bicep and cinched the hold.

“And the jobber goes for a sleeper!” the announcer yelled. “And a solid one! Is it all over for the champ???” Ray flailed his arms wildly, swiping at Travis but unable to connect. Travis, in turn, tightened his grip. He pressed against Ray closely, the flesh from their bare torsos making sweet, sweaty contact. He could feel Ray’s accentuated musculature against his own and his arousal was barely containable by this point. Ray had to be able to feel it jammed against his lower back. The crowd gasped and booed, hurling garbage at the ring as Ray’s struggling began to slow and weaken. His struggles became weaker and slower and his eyelids began to flutter. Tavis almost had him. He just had to hold on for a few more seconds…

“You’re almost mine!” Travis whispered into Ray’s ear. The rope around his wrist hung and dangled alluringly over Ray’s chest, resting in the divot between his pecs. “Once you’re out, this rope comes off me and onto you! And then I’ll have you forever!”

Just then Ray began to tremble. But not in lust, or even in the forced lethargy from Travis’ sleeper hold. He began to pant and grunt and started pumping his arms rapidly up and down. “Oh, shit!” Travis thought. He had seen enough wrestling to know what was happening. “The Hulk Hogan Second Wind!” The crowd was on its feet as Ray pulled against Travis and walked him forward. Then, with a mighty bellow, he reached up, grabbed Travis by the head, and flipped him over his shoulder. Travis’ hold evaporated as he tumbled over Ray and landed on his back on the mat. Ray was red all over and breathing in super heavy breaths. He jumped in the air and let out a savage “aarrrrrrggghhhh!” as he landed.

“Now we finish this for real!” Ray grunted, and started stomping on Travis’ midsection, harder than before. And again, Travis responded appropriately. There was still no pain, but Travis felt himself getting inexplicably weaker and more tired. Like the Stamina Bar on an unseen video game was depleting with each strike. Ray’s relentless assault continued, but the blonde adonis stopped when he saw Travis’ bulging erection and gave a sinister sneer. He formed his hand into a claw grip and seized Travis’ junk with the strength of an industrial vice. The crowd “oohed” as Ray squeezed Travis’ swollen cock and balls without mercy. Travis feebly tried to reach his hands over and break Ray’s grip, but Ray effortlessly swatted him away each time. Travis doubled over and howled, feeling himself getting even more sluggish and weak. But at the same time, he felt a burning heat in his loins. Ray’s touch thrilled him more than anything else in the world.

With a taunting laugh, Ray finally released his grip on Travis’ junk and did a massive elbow drop. Travis spasmed and twitched, but that was it. He felt his strength ebbing away until he had none left. All he could do was lie there on the mat, unable to find the strength to stand. Ray grabbed the rope dangling from Travis’ wrist and yanked, causing Travis to do an acrobatic flip onto his stomach. The crowd cheered like mad when Ray brought Travis’ bound arm behind his back.

Travis, of course, feebly resisted, but it was all for show. It was a terrible assault on his manhood to be manhandled and roped by another dude, but somewhere deep down Travis knew he wanted this. There was no denying it now. He wanted this and he wanted Ray. He wanted his musclebound rival to claim him and make him his slave. A whirlwind of conflicting emotions churned, and then melted away one by one until there was only one thought in Travis’ mind: “I must be his!” Ray reached over and scooped up Travis’ free hand and brought it back to join the other. He snatched up the end of the rope and Travis was powerless to resist as he felt it dancing around his wrists. It tickled his skin alluringly as it wound around and through his itself, pinning his hands together securely. He craned his head back and wriggled vainly as Ray secured the knots, but it was futile. Nothing short of a blowtorch would be able to loosen those ropes. Ray stood up and flexed for the crowd, but knew couldn’t claim victory just yet. Just because his opponent’s hands were helplessly tied behind his back didn’t mean he couldn’t still fight. If Travis could get to his feet, he could still kick and shoulder tackle. It wasn’t over.

Had he wanted to resist, Travis could have drawn on his own second wind and surged to his feet, but there was no fight left in him. And escape was the last thing on his mind. Right now he was in ecstasy. He thought back to his roping at the hands of TUG a few weeks ago. It was tight and fairly painful, not to mention completely humiliating, but it did bring out some strange feelings in him. Feelings he didn’t quite know how to process at the time and couldn’t understand until just this moment. He remembered he became erect then, too, but chalked it up to fear and adrenaline. But now it was all clear. This is what he was meant to be: bound and helpless at Ray’s mercy. He knew then that he wanted nothing more than this. Ever.

Travis was still lost in thought as Ray kicked his wrestling-booted feet together and descended on them with more rope. He was barely aware of this happening and offered no resistance as Ray ensnared his ankles, binding them tight with loop after loop of the sturdy cords. When Travis finally realized what was happening, it was too late to put up even a performative struggle. He felt the tightness of the bonds even through his boots, and his fate was permanently sealed when he felt Ray grab his ankles and pull them up, bringing them to rest over his bound hands lying on the small of his back. Ray put his leg over the trussed and squirming package beneath him in a show of dominance, holding Travis’ limbs into position and showing all that he had won. That he had subdued his opponent. Just one more touch and he will officially bag his prize.

As the crowd cheered and hollered, Ray grabbed one final rope and used it to secure Travis in a strict, inescapable hogtie. Cody would be proud, Travis thought. With a whoop, Ray hopped to his feet and flexed as he towered over his hogtied trophy. Travis was his prisoner and that was it. It was all over. “Ring the damn bell,” Ray said cockily to the referee. He wiped the beaded sweat from his pecs and disaffectedly flicked it onto Travis’s bare back.

The crowd exploded as the bell chimed, signaling that the match was over and Ray was victorious. The ring announcer handed Ray his Championship Belt, which he buckled around his waist before flexing again. The announcer then handed Ray the collar and leash. “Only one more thing to do!” the announcer said. “Just collar this jobber bitch and he’s your slave forever!”

“Oh, he already is,” Ray said with a sneer. Travis felt happy butterflies in his stomach. Butterfiles which got more frantic as Ray bent down, collar in hand. Travis willingly extended his neck and shuddered with ecstasy as Ray slipped the collar over his throat and buckled it in back. And then it was over. He was Ray’s. Travis had always known that he wanted Ray. That was evident when he first saw him in the crowd when Clay and the others bound Leo to Founder’s Statue during Orientation Week. He could barely bring himself to look away from Ray’s rippling muscles, on full display thanks to his “Welcome to the Gun Show” tank top. But he didn’t know it would come to this. That he would be filled with a burning desire to be bound and subjugated by Ray. He felt his loins stirring uncontrollably.

After some more poses for the crowd over his fallen prisoner, Ray slid under the ring ropes and dropped to the arena floor. Taking the chain leash in hand, he dragged Travis’ prostrate form along, pulling him under the ropes and bringing him to a rest at the edge of the apron. Then Ray bent down and gave Travis a full-on kiss. “Now you’re all mine,” he said seductively, and scooped Travis up. He threw the vanquished jobber over his shoulder and swatted his prisoner’s plump ass a few times as he carried him up the runway and into the locker room, ready to begin his servitude.

And Travis would have it no other way.

---

Travis couldn’t hold it in anymore. He felt himself exploding in his underwear as he was forcibly jarred from sleep. He let out a soft “uuunggggghhhh” as he released, his eyes slamming open at the same time. Travis’ roommate stirred a little in his bed across the darkened room, but did not wake. Travis froze silently in place for a second to make sure his roommate was truly asleep, his heart racing. When he was sure his emission had not been seen, he got up and headed to the bathroom to wash up. When he was done, Travis found that he was unable to get back to sleep, so he decided to take a walk to clear his head and process his thoughts. He slipped on a pair of jeans and sneakers, and grabbed a light jacket before heading out into the hall and down the stairs. He walked past the night desk assistant without a word and began to wander the deserted streets of campus, his thoughts a churning maelstrom of desire, fear, and uncertainty.

He didn’t know how long he walked, but Travis eventually found himself at the massive bulletin board by the library. Why he came here he didn’t know, but it felt like Fate itself had guided his steps. He scanned the board and saw all of the various social and academic events that were advertised here. He was about to turn and continue walking, when his eyes were drawn to a red flyer, TUG red, that had been recently added over a few old notices. He reached up and touched it as he read.

“This Friday Night at 8pm at the Athletic Center!
Due to unforeseen circumstances, Tau Upsilon Gamma has decided to hold its annual Auction a few weeks early!
Come out and bid on 17 pieces of prime college beef and support TUG’s rebuilding fund!
All types and sizes! Perfect stock to fit any and all tastes and desires.
Yours for the entire weekend to do with as you wish, no questions asked!
Refreshments served and music by DJ Scott.
Special guest… the man, the legend… M-DAWG!!!”

“Oh, I’ll be there…” Travis said.

Coming soon: Chapter 5 - The Auction
Wedgieboy69
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Post by Wedgieboy69 »

I think we can all agree that Travis will bid on Ray, but I foresee a twist after the dream. will Travis opt to be the sub, and be rays slave? or will the alpha dix jock take the predictable route and dominate Ray?

longterm, will Travis fill masons role as he undergoes his transformation into an alpha?

lots of questions and possibilities that have me eager for more
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gag1195
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Post by gag1195 »

I hope Travis wins his bid for Ray! If for no other reason, then allowing them more time to talk and clear the air. And of course, the big question: Once Travis has Ray, who will end up tied up? Consciously, Travis seems to want to get hunky Ray under his control, but that dream tells a much different story! And I'm sure Slave Ray would be more than willing to follow orders to tie Travis up!

And of course, what other fun little vignettes will we get from the auction? Where will our other TUGs end up?
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george_bound
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Post by george_bound »

Well I finally caught up with latest chapters and am happy that the TUG boys are starting to recover from their ordeal. Particularly enjoyed the "care" Wade gave to Scott and feel for Cody in his not-so-great first bondage encounter. I also think there's gonna be some bidding action on Ray by Travis at the auction...will there be a bidding war?! Me thinks there definitely will be if the boys are all trussed up nice and tight on display but we'll just have to wait to see how that pans out, eh 8-)
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KidnappedCowboy
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Post by KidnappedCowboy »

The writing is just so good in this tale! :)
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wataru14
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Post by wataru14 »

After a bit of a scare yesterday, I realized that I never backed up this story! Since my other ones are completed I have hard copies on my hard drive, but not this one since its ongoing. That must be changed since I thought I almost lost more than a year of work! As soon as I get home from vacation, that's the first thing I'm doing!

And I also had an idea for a new story! A closed-end one that I will release alternating with this one. I hope everyone is ready to meet the secret agents of "The Bureau of National Defense and Government" as they face off against their sinister rivals The Cabal of Underworld Freedom Fighters..."

Chapter 1 coming soon!
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