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

[CowboyStud]

To those against it. It’s a story! Let the writer write what he wants! Stop trolling.. thank you

[wataru14]

It's not troling, it's a legitimate discussion. And perfectly valid reactions.

I like seeing different takes on the situation. It's a morally gray area and not everyone is going to see it through conciliatory eyes like Cody does.

[CowboyStud]

It's not troling, it's a legitimate discussion. And perfectly valid reactions.

I like seeing different takes on the situation. It's a morally gray area and not everyone is going to see it through conciliatory eyes like Cody does.

Apologies. I was just thinking if I was the one writing and dealing “this criticism or discussion”. I would just stop all together. Again apologies, I love this series. As always you outdid yourself

[gag1195]

I can definitely see both sides of this! And I'm torn!

I like seeing Cody happy! If he's truly, actually happy with Sam, then I support the unorthodox way they got together, even if it was a bit extreme...

However, I also think that Sam and Ryan need to face some consequences for kidnapping Cody in the first place, regardless of Cody's eventual compliance. I don't think they need to be arrest, per se, but definitely need to spend some time repenting to TUG House!

[_zin_]

Always look forward to the next chapter in this story! TUG is doing a great job organizing their search to find Cody. Glad that Sam finally expressed his feelings to Cody. Loved that Cody was able to think through the situation and come to his decision to share his feelings, at least as much as possible while gagged and handcuffed!

Besides, Cody knows these guys well. And knows he is not in danger. Curious to learn about Sam's surprise and admittedly hoping there will be some TUG House training in Sam and Ryan's future!

[Volobond]

Sam definitely seems like he was driven wild by foolish impulses and his own low self-esteem, but I think once he's separated from Ryan he'll be much better - Cody's gentle heart is hood for him, and he could definitely teach him the proper way of things.

The way I read it, Cody's not Stockholm Syndrome-ing but simply showing a great deal of empathy. Not forgetting that wrong has been done but appreciating the thought and intention behind it. I still think Sam (but especially Ryan) need punishment, but I also think Cody being the mentor and leather clad sometimes-dom, sometimes-sub to a repentant future Sam is a good idea!

But, you know, it's hard to say "you done goofed, buddy, but I appreciate the thought and while this isn't something I dislike, I would much rather have been able to give my consent" with a gag in!

[bondagefreak]

Your recent absence on the forum leaves a void and your presence is missed, @wataru14.
Don't think we haven't noticed. Hope you're doing alright. I know I speak for many when I say that I'm anxious to have you back.

[CowboyStud]

Your recent absence on the forum leaves a void and your presence is missed, @wataru14.
Don't think we haven't noticed. Hope you're doing alright. I know I speak for many when I say that I'm anxious to have you back.

I second this statement. If anything I hope you’re doing well

[wataru14]

Your recent absence on the forum leaves a void and your presence is missed, @wataru14.
Don't think we haven't noticed. Hope you're doing alright. I know I speak for many when I say that I'm anxious to have you back.

Thanks. I was rehearsing a show and we just opened last night. So between work and rehearsals I have been "tied up" (I wish) nonstop. But now that we're in performances and my work schedule can get back to normal I will be back on like before.

About halfway done with the next chapter. If not by the weekend, It should be up shortly after that.

[wataru14]

Chapter 11: The Red Light District

When Nate emerged from the park gate, LJ and the others were already gathered on the corner. “Park was a bust,” LJ said. “It’s getting late and we know this fucker is in the area. We have eyes on his truck and it’s still there. Let’s check some of the food places around here. It’s about time for dinner.”

Nate gave one last look back at the park. Something wasn’t sitting right. He was getting odd feelings all of a sudden. Maybe that kissing couple did warrant looking into. If he was wrong, then all he would get is a little embarrassment. But if he was right…

“Actually,” he said. “There might have been something. I didn’t think anything of it at the time, but now I’m not so sure.”

LJ’s posture tensed. “What did you see? Show me!”

Nate turned and waved for the others to follow him. Now feeling tense about the whole situation, he started to run, with LJ close at his heels. They rounded the corner to the pond, but found it deserted.

“They were just here!” Nate said. “Two guys. I didn’t see their faces but…” He started to stammer.

“Calm down,” LJ said, putting his hand on Nate’s shoulder. “They couldn’t have gotten far. There’s a trail over that way. Maybe they took it? Let’s follow.” And the group took off down the path, following the only lead they had.

---

Cody and Sam stepped through the east gate of the park into a run-down and fairly derelict neighborhood. Nearby was a convenience store that proudly displayed a sign reading “We got robbed by Dr. Calamity!” Cody couldn’t help but chuckle under his gag. Sam was texting as they walked, but he seemed to have a direction in mind.

SAM: “Go back to the motel. We’re cool.”
RYAN: “U sure?”
SAM: “Yeah. We had a talk. He’s OK with everything.”
RYAN: “…… K. U be out late?”
SAM: “Probably. Don’t wait up.”

He hung up his phone and said “That’ll take care of Ryan. But he wouldn’t like where I’m taking you. I’m not sure if I’m going to like it, to be honest. But I know you’ll love it.” Cody’s interest was piqued. Based on Sam’s uncanny ability to misread everything, he was a little worried about what a neighborhood like this could possibly have that he’d enjoy. He scoured the storefronts as they walked, passing small bodegas, cheaply made tourist junk stalls, and the occasional mobile edibles van, before he realized where they were going.

The red neon could be seen through the dusky haze from a few blocks away. “XXX Theater.” “Topless Dancers.” “Hourly Rates…” The people on the streets kept their business to themselves as they walked, not wanting to attract attention. Scantily dressed women and men lurked on the corners, flashing smiles at the passersby and showing off their “wares.” Cody’s grandfather had said he went to Times Square in the early 70s when he got back from Vietnam, and this is exactly what he had described.

Sam walked with his head down, like he was afraid to touch anything. The place was filthy. And pretty generally wretched. But Cody was intrigued. Working in Wade’s shop, he had seen things of this stripe many times, but this was the darkest end of the world he was dipping his toes into. There was something visceral about it that both attracted and terrified him at the same time. They passed by a buxom woman who called out “Hey cowboys, looking to get your saddles broken?” Cody turned his head to look, but Sam just pulled him along. They turned the corner to 14th Street.

Now, it looked like someone in the City Council had decided to reign in the debauchery somewhat with an attempt at zoning. The street, and the blocks adjacent, were crammed with clubs. Some of the names made Cody laugh out loud under his gag. But they stopped across the street from a clearly male club called “The Mine Shaft.” The place was decorated with construction equipment. The bearish bouncer at the door wore work boots, jeans, a hi-res vest, and a hardhat. Cody was mesmerized.

“Well,” Sam said. “Here goes nothing.” And he took Cody by the arm and walked him across the street. As soon as they approached the door, the mammoth bouncer stepped in their way.

“Hold on a sec boys,” he said, in a gruff and gravelly voice that may or may not have been an affectation. “How old are you? Let’s see some ID.” Sam reached into his back pocket and took out his wallet. He shakily handed his fake ID to the bouncer, who scrunched his face. “Wyoming? Never saw one of these before. You’re a long way from home, boys.”

Sam was sweating. He was sure the bouncer would spot the fake, but he just handed it back to him. “OK, you’re good. What about this one?”

Sam said “He’s not 21, but don’t worry. He won’t be drinking. I’ll make sure of that.” And he tugged the bandana down from Cody’s face. When the bouncer saw that Cody’s mouth was sealed shut with black duct tape, he busted out laughing.

“Well, that’s a pretty effective way to keep your boi from drinking, that’s for sure,” he guffawed. He thought for a moment and said “Heh, why the fuck not? OK, cowboys, enjoy yourselves.” He slapped Sam on the back, nearly knocking him over, and opened the door.

Sam didn’t put Cody’s mask back on him as they entered. “No need to hide it in here,” Sam said with a smile. Cody nodded, his eyes twinkling. When they passed through the threshold and the bouncer closed the door, he stepped aside and leaned on the brick wall. When he did so, he revealed a garish poster hanging in the window. It displayed a naked college-age man with a roguish smirk on his face covering his privates with an old 45 record. His face would have been immediately recognizable to Cody. The poster read “Back by Popular Demand! In two weeks: DJ SCOTT!”

---

When the two boys crossed the threshold into the club, they were greeted with pulsing music and haze. Sam looked at Cody and said “Here’s your surprise! I found this place online and it looks just perfect for you.” Cody looked around at the various men in leather all around. Some dancing, some drinking, but all completely comfortable. At home. He felt a strange warmth radiating through him. Like he found a missing puzzle piece. Sam looked sheepishly around and said “Hope you enjoy yourself.”

Cody stood, taking it all in for a moment. Then he felt Sam unzipping his leather jacket. His erstwhile captor slowly removed the jacket from Cody’s torso, revealing the leather harness beneath. And his cuffed hands. That’s when people really started to take notice. Wry smiles and raised beer bottles greeted them from all sides. And Cody got more than a few whistles. Sam detached the mannequin arms, stashing them in the coat check room, and then put on Cody’s jacket himself. “I felt a little underdressed,” he said, his face beet red. “This’ll help me fit in more. You’re already blending.” Cody couldn’t help but chuckle through his tapegag. Sam was right about that. Several guys here and there were wearing similar harnesses. None were cuffed like he was, but that didn’t matter. He found himself enjoying the attention. “Now let’s go mingle.”

Sam took Cody by the arm and led him to the packed dance floor. Neither boy was an afficionado of club music, but that didn’t stop them. Cody could dance to anything. He let loose with wild abandon, gyrating and grooving as much as his cuffed hands would allow. Sam awkwardly attempted to keep up, but was completely out of his element. Cody thought it was rather adorable. And several of the other clubgoers thought Cody was more than adorable. He felt many hands patting his butt and chest as he grinded and undulated against hard and hairy bodies on the dance floor. And he was in heaven. These were his people. People who wouldn’t judge him for his love of leather and being restrained. Just the place he wanted. Sam was off base on most of this crazy plot, but this capper really hit the mark. Even though he was cuffed and gagged, Cody felt completely free.

After a bit of dancing, Sam’s eyes began to wander around the club. His gaze came to a back hallway near the bathrooms that had a sign reading “Private Rooms.” He looked over at Cody, still dancing with a rapturous expression. He wondered what was in those rooms. Surely they were full of things he had no idea how to use, but that Cody would enjoy. An idea crossed his mind. He leaned in to Cody and said “Wait here. I’m gonna get a beer.” Cody nodded and went back to undulating around a hairy bear in an all-leather police uniform as Sam made his way to the bar.

“I’ll have a beer,” Sam said to the bartender. A young Latino man wearing a leather speedo and boots, and nothing else. The bartender looked at him quizzically, but then shrugged. “The bouncer checked IDs so he must be legal,” he thought and handed Sam a bottle. After paying, Sam said “Hey, uh, I got a question. How much are the private rooms?”

The bartender raised an eyebrow in confusion. Who was this guy? He looked like he just stepped off the bus from the backwoods and that he was going to have a stroke every time he looked around. Why was he asking about the private rooms? For him and that leather-clad snack he brought in with him? He was about to ask the boy why he wanted to know, when he was interrupted by a bass voice from behind him.

“They are $100 for an hour,” said the boss.

Sam looked past the bartender and saw an absolute wall of a man. At least 6’2” and 300 pounds. Full beard. Bouffant wig. And wearing a saloon madam’s gown that sparkled in the slow strobe lights from the dance floor. Sam was too shocked to speak.

“The name’s Amanda Huggenkiss and I own this establishment,” the man said, looking down at Sam with a deadpan expression. “I’m going to assume that you’re 21 because the alternative is getting a new bouncer. Now, tell mama why you’re asking about that. Hmm?”

Sam stammered and said “I’m only in town for a day or so and met up with an old… well, I don’t know exactly what to call him. And I wanted to show him a good time before I left. I’m not into all this, but he is. And I want it to be real special. $100 is pretty steep, but I’ll pay it. I want him to enjoy every minute.”

Amanda thought for a moment. Her face was an unreadable mask. Finally, she said, “Fine. And because your story touched my black heart I’ll give you a 35% discount for the hour.” Sam’s face lit up as he handed Amanda the cash and took the key to one of the rooms.

“Thank you, sir… um, ma’am,” he choked. “I really appreciate it.”

“You two go have fun now,” Amanda said, waving Sam away. The young cowboy made it back to the dance floor and whispered something in Cody’s ear. Then he took his cuffed partner by the arm and disappeared down the hall. As soon as they were gone. Amanda picked up the phone.

---

The key fit in smoothly and the door opened without a sound. The walls were black and it was uncomfortably warm. Sam thought it was because normally the people in it were not particularly dressed heavily and wouldn’t notice as much. An ornate Victorian couch, red upholstery, sat against a wall. Across was a table lined with all sorts of gear that Sam could only guess the purpose of. But Cody seemed to recognize all of it. He had seen such things for sale in Wade’s shop, after all. Cody thought that this must be what the special locked room in the back of the shop was like. The one Wade said you could only enter by invitation.

After closing the door, Sam turned and looked at the gear, frozen with a mix of indecision and panic. His deer-in-the-headlights look was immediately picked up by Cody, who grunted softly for Sam to remove his gag. With awkward movements, Sam picked at the edge of the tape until it came up, and began to slowly unwind it from around Cody’s jaws. It stung a little when it came fully off, but it was the first time in… Cody didn’t remember how long… that his mouth was unfettered. He licked his dry lips to try and get some moisture flowing. “Whoo-ee!” he said, scanning the table. “This is quite a setup. And they got the good stuff! No cheap knockoffs. I should have expected that from a friend of Wade’s.” Sam just blinked and said “Uh, yeah.”

Cody walked back and forth in front of the table, scanning its wares with a critical eye. “So what are you going to use on me first?” he winked. “I’ve never tried some of this stuff.”

Sam gulped nervously. “Well, I don’t rightly know. I have no idea how some of that even works. I was… I was hoping you could walk me through it. Show me how.” Cody smiled.

“Sure, no problem,” he said with his trademark sexy wink. “But first you gotta take the cuffs off me. I’m getting a little tired of them, to be honest. I want to do something a little more traditional anyway.” Sam fished through his jeans pocket for the handcuff key and unlocked the bracelets from around Cody’s wrists. At this moment, Cody felt a flash in his mind. He was free. He could make a run for it. He could coldcock Sam or just shove him out of the way and be out the door before his captor knew what was happening. But… No. He couldn’t do that. Maybe it was his boundless empathy overriding his common sense, but he couldn’t do that to Sam. Not after he had gone through so much trouble. It would crush him. And he couldn’t do that to someone. No matter what they did.

Sam put the cuffs and key into the inner pocket of Cody’s leather jacket and waited while Cody rubbed his wrists to restore circulation. He watched as Cody wandered back and forth, occasionally picking up some doodad or other, appraising it, and then putting it back down. He settled on a bale of silky white rope. It was so smooth and shiny it almost glimmered, even in the dim light of the room. Cody held it up and said “You know how to use rope, right? Tie sturdy knots? We’ll use this. I’ll show you where to apply it, and you can take it from there.” Sam nodded and took the rope from Cody, undoing the bale and unwinding it.

“I guess I’ll start with your hands,” Sam said. He folded the rope in half and threaded the end through the bight, forming a loop. He slid this over Cody’s hands, expectantly crossed behind the small of his back, and pulled the loop taught.

“Caught again,” Cody thought with a smile. “But this time it’s better than those hard cuffs. This rope feels real nice. Soft and silky. It don’t chafe or nothin!”

Sam wound the rope crossways until about half the length was used. Then he tied a small knot and separated the ends. Each end was wound vertically, crisscrossing the tie that was already in place. One went up and over while one went down and under. When the two ends met, Sam knotted them off. “How’s that?” he asked.

“Perfect!” Cody said. “It feels incredible.” He tested the knots by wriggling slightly. “And it’s cinched real good, too. I knew you’d be an expert with knots.” Sam blushed a little before asking what to do next.

“The next part is a bit tricky, so I’ll walk you through it,” Cody said. “You need to make a harness for my chest and arms. Like weaving a net. Just follow my instructions and it’ll come out fine.”

Following Cody’s direction, Sam began by putting the middle point of a long rope crossways over Cody’s chest, just under the pec line. He wound it around a few times, then threaded the ends through the space between Cody’s arms and ribcage on either side. He used the rest of the overly long rope to make a double figure-eight around Cody’s torso. Cody said “That’s the idea, but it’s not tight enough. You gotta pull it real taut for what comes next.” Sam scrunched his brow as he pulled the ropes tighter and tighter. He thought he was going too far, but Cody kept encouraging him. When the rope was finally secured, Cody’s arms were helplessly pinioned to his sides.

“Nice job!” Cody congratulated. “Now this next part is important.” He spread his legs wide apart. “You need to fold a rope in half and stick it between my legs from behind. So that the bight sticks out about six inches in front. Sam reacted with a start. He didn’t expect to have access to that region of Cody’s body during this escapade. The idea made his pulse race.

“Like this?” he said as he followed Cody’s direction. His hands teasingly close to Cody’s denim-covered bulge.

“Yup,” Cody said, bringing his legs together to hold the rope in place. “Now wrap the ends around my hips on either side and thread the ends through the bight.” When Sam did what Cody asked, his jaw dropped as the rope formed a perfect frame around his crotch. “This is what’s called a ‘Swiss Seat.’ Don’t know what Switzerland has to do with it. But it’s the foundation for the harness. Now wrap the ends back around my waist. It’ll give you a foundation to anchor the rest of it.”

Sam pulled the ends of the rope away from Cody’s body, then wrapped them back around his waist. Cody said “Use the rest to reinforce or add embellishments, or whatever you want.” Sam was no rope master, so he didn’t want to get too crazy. Instead, he just doubled down on what he had already done. It wasn’t the most artful job, but pretty good for a beginner. “Now,” Cody said as Sam finished tying off the knots. You can use that and the band around my chest to make a harness. Thread it through and around, up my chest, around the back of my neck, and back. Just don’t put anything around my throat, OK?”

Sam nodded. He studied the ropes for a moment, seeing how they all worked together. He started at the beltline, weaving a rope through the belt formed by the ‘seat’ and working his way up. It took some doing to get the ends through the tight band across Cody’s chest from beneath, but he managed it. He crossed the ends behind Cody’s neck, as instructed, and brought them back down, going through the band again from behind Cody’s back. Then he anchored the ends to the back of the ‘Seat.’

“That’ll do for a start,” Cody said with a wink. “Now you can add whatever you like. Go crazy. We got plenty of rope to use.” Cody was right. There was no shortage of material. Sam took smaller lengths and started further securing Cody’s torso, using the harness and Seat as anchor points. Soon, Cody’s entire upper body was crisscrossed in rope, forming sloppy asymmetrical diamond shapes.

“It looks like shit!” Sam said, frustrated.

“Don’t worry,” Cody reassured. “It’s your first time doing it. It ain’t gonna be perfect. But don’t worry. It feels amazing!” The swelling in Cody’s loins made that abundantly clear. The Seat framed them for all to see, after all.

“Now what?” Sam asked.

“Now that’s up to you,” Cody said. “You got me where you want me, so go where your mind takes you.”

Sam walked over to the gear and took out a leather blindfold. He covered Cody’s eyes with it and buckled it behind his head. “Ooh, I like that,” Cody said. He wriggled a little, surprised at how firm and tight the bonds were. Not uncomfortable, and not so taut that they cut off circulation, but secure and titillating. “So what’s the next…”

Cody was cut off in mid-sentence as he felt the sting of a leather riding crop whack across his denim-covered butt. He shivered and said “Ooooh, nice!” Another swat and Cody bit his lip in enjoyment. He was forced to let out a moan as Sam’s hands tweaked his hardened nipples, exposed and framed by the net of ropes around his chest. Cody was about to say “That’s real good!” but his words were stifled as Sam’s lips planted on his. It seems his normally sheepish captor was feeling a little bolder now. Letting himself go a little. Good! It seems Sam was getting more comfortable with this whole thing. Cody got an even bigger shock as Sam’s hands began to massage his abs over the ropes, working their way down to… Now THIS was interesting!

Sam continued to kiss Cody as his hands fumbled around with Cody’s belt buckle. Once it was undone, Cody got tingles as Sam’s hand plunged into his jeans and started stroking. He wriggled slightly in his ropes and let out a soft moan as Sam’s hands explored him. He was completely lost in the moment, glowing at how tender and alluring this all felt, despite the weirdness of the situation. Ripples ran up his spine as Sam’s lips and hands continued to explore his body. All he could think about was the touch sensations along his body. Amplified by the loss of sight from the blindfold. And the stroking. The stroking. The stroking!

Sam was in ecstasy. This was all he ever wanted. What he had dreamed about since he first met Cody at the rodeo camp. It might not have been in the circumstances he envisioned (there was certainly a lot less rope involved in HIS fantasies), but it didn’t matter anymore. It was pure bliss.

But all bliss is sort-lived, it seems. Cody couldn’t see what happened, but he heard the door of the room violently opening. He heard shouting. Voices he recognized, but couldn’t place with the myriad emotions surging through his brain. He felt Sam jerk away from him. Like he was pulled. Some more shouting. Then a familiar calloused hand on his shoulder. It was LJ! Without a second thought, Cody yelled. “Don’t hurt him!”

---

From the perspective of an outsider, the scene was almost comical. A securely bound young cowboy with his junk hanging out. A rugged middle-aged man removing the blindfold from his eyes. Across the room, another young cowboy wearing a biker jacket was being held against the wall by a slacker-type in a backwards red snapback cap and a scrawny kid in skinny jeans and a Kitty Pryde T-shirt. In the doorway was a bearded man in a gown, folding his arms across his broad chest and looking very angry.

“We got him, LJ!” Scott called out, holding Sam tightly against the wall.

“No!” Cody shouted. “It’s not what you think!” He blinked a few times as the blindfold was pulled away. The lights were full on in the room and he saw Sam being restrained against the wall by Scott and Nate. And LJ was right there, turning him around and looking for a place to start undoing the knots that held Cody’s intricate bonds. He began to feel a deep dread at the mixed feelings of relief and anger playing across his father’s face.

“Not what we think?” LJ grunted. “This fucker kidnapped you at that party!”

“No!” Cody said quickly as the ropes began to fall off his body. “I… I went with him willingly. It was… a game we were playing.”

LJ stepped back, the ropes half undone. “What?” is all he could say through his fury.

“I hadn’t seen Sam in a while and when I saw him at the party, we started talking,” Cody lied. “We were both a little drunk so we decided to run off for some… well, you know.”

Nate was aghast. “And the whole thing with the garbage pail?” he asked. Sam was in no position to corroborate Cody’s story with Scott’s hand plastered over his mouth. “Travis saw him wheeling you out and putting you in his truck.”

Cody was cornered. He had to come up with a lie. And quick. “That was part of the game. Like I said, we were drunk and acting stupid. I didn’t think anyone would mind.”

“Wouldn’t mind?” Scott said. “We’ve been worried sick about you for two days. We had no idea where you were!”

“And the situation was fucking suspicious enough,” LJ said, slowly resuming his unbinding of Cody’s torso. “And in all this time you didn’t think to call? Or text? Or anything? To let us know where you were? Cody, the police are involved for Chrissakes!”

Cody gulped. He didn’t know why he didn’t expect that. Part of him wanted to just come clean and admit he had actually been kidnapped. Retract his lie. He would say he just said that because he was scared and Sam messed with his head while he was in captivity. It was partially true, after all. But looking at Sam, terrified and squirming under Scott and Nate’s grip, he decided he couldn’t do that. If the police were involved, Sam and Ryan would be going to jail for a very long time if he told the truth. And he couldn’t let that happen.

“I’m sorry, sir,” Cody said, his head down. “I… I wasn’t thinking straight.” The ropes came off his wrists and he immediately stowed his privates back in his jeans and zipped up.

“Jesus Christ, boy!” LJ spat. “Is this how I raised you? To be so thoughtless? After what happened to you two years ago you’d think…” LJ was so mad he couldn’t say anything else. Cody welled up with shame. Abject shame. He had hurt LJ badly and that was the worst feeling he ever felt in his life. All he could say was “Sorry, sir.”

LJ couldn’t even look at him. He turned away in anger and looked at Sam. “I know you, kid. From the rodeo,” he said. “You were never one for hairbrained schemes like this, so I’ll assume my dumbass son put you up to it. Is that right?” Sam, his eyes wild with fear, looked over at Cody, who gave a small nod that no one else saw. Sam grunted an affirmative and shook his head “yes” feverishly. LJ nodded at Scott, who released Sam from his grip. Nate held on a moment longer, but let go as well.

“Scott,” LJ barked. “Call Brett and Santucci and tell them everything’s fine. Mission fucking accomplished.” He looked over at Cody and said “I can’t believe how disappointed I am in you. I had to take off work because of this dumbass prank of yours! Now I gotta catch a redeye back so I don’t lose any more time.” He started walking out the door, not looking back. “I’ll call you tomorrow night. And you’d better answer, boy. Make no mistake.”

And he was gone. Cody felt like someone punched him in the gut.

“Well, wasn’t that beautiful?” Amanda said from the doorway. “Very touching. But all of you are going to have to leave now. I can’t be having the underage in my establishment. Scott, we’re going to have a long talk about your inability to curb your pets when you next come in to DJ. Now get that boy dressed and get out of here.”

Cody sheepishly took his leather jacket back from Sam and zipped it up over the chest harness. Amanda gave a harsh, disapproving stare as the group filed past, which no one met. Sam and Nate led the pack, with Scott next. Scott was already making frantic phone calls. Cody trudged along despondently behind.

Outside the club, the entire rescue group had assembled. Minus the ROTC boys, who were still staking out the truck. Cody was in a haze on incomprehension as he was subjected to scolding and admonishments from everyone. He was so lost in his fog that he didn’t even hear what they said. Everyone was lecturing him. Except Nate. The one thing Cody noticed is that Nate stood apart from the crowd, keeping a watchful eye on Sam, who looked like he would bolt at the earliest opportunity. Cody heard Brett say something about “punishment,” but it didn’t register.

Taking advantage of everyone’s distraction, Nate stepped up to Sam. He turned the jittery young cowboy around and stared him dead in the eye. “Cody is a terrible liar,” he said. His voice was low and even. Sam felt a chill run down his spine. “He’s covering for you. I don’t know why, and I don’t care. I’m on to you, asshole. I know you did this. I can’t prove anything and I’m not going to cause Cody any more grief by pressing the matter. But know this: if this has any lasting negative effect on him… or if you hurt him in ANY way after all this blows over… I will make sure you regret it. I have someone in my pocket who would break you in half without a thought if I asked him to. And don’t think for a second that I wouldn’t if I needed to.” Nate trained his gaze on Hoss, who was berating Cody for his stupidity in tandem with Santucci. Sam froze.

“OK, tough guy,” Shane said, slinking in from the shadows. “That’s enough of the Big Brother treatment. You’ve made your point.” He put one arm around Nate’s shoulder and the other around Sam’s and began walking them over to the main group. “Are you all finished?” he said to the crowd. “I’m sure Cody knows what he did and how stupid it was. Leaning on him more isn’t going to help. So I suggest we all give it a rest and head home. Alright?”

The group grudgingly agreed and began to turn for the subway entrance. Cody, who was normally in the center of everything, stood apart from the others, too ashamed to join them. While they walked, Brett came over to Sam.

“Based on what Mason saw on the camera feed, there were two of you in the truck,” he said. Sam looked at him, but couldn’t meet his gaze and turned away. Shane realized this and turned him back to face Brett. “We’re going to officially go with Cody’s story since the alternative is more troublesome than we want. But Nate isn’t the only one who’s suspicious. So this is what’s going to happen. You and your accomplice are going to report to the TUG house first thing the day after tomorrow. The cops may be called off, but we’re not done with you by a longshot. You two need to serve a penance for what you did.” He let his words sink in. “I can tell you and Cody have something developing. Well, after this debacle you need to prove to us that you’re worthy of him. He has 19 brothers you have to impress and you already have several strikes. You’d better be ready.”

Brett walked away and Sam finally let out his breath. He had been holding it ever since Brett came over. When the group reached a nearby intersection, Sam said to Shane that his motel was around the corner and he needed to break off here. Shane nodded and released his grip on Sam’s shoulder. Sam took a few steps away and then turned to look for Cody. He almost didn’t see him, trudging along behind the crowd. He started to head over there, but Shane stopped him. “Yeah, that’s not a good idea,” Shane said. “You two can chat later. For now you should just go.”

Sam nodded and turned to head down the street. Nate’s eyes bored two holes in the back of his head.

“You and Cody together?” Nate said to himself. “Not if I have anything to say about it.”

Coming Soon: Halloween Epilogue – The Penance

[blackbound]

Heh, Sam's so excited he blindfolds Cody twice

For some reason I'm feeling soft today and hope the "punishment" for the two will just be locking them in the dungeon together, but it certainly sounds like Nate will have no part of that.

[wataru14]

Heh, Sam's so excited he blindfolds Cody twice

Ha! I must have missed that. Fixed!

[Wedgieboy69]

I think LJ is the only one buying that story. I think they will get the truth out of Cody soon enough.

As for Sam, he is screwed. I just hope someone told the rotc guys before he gets back to his truck, or things will get much worse very fast.

[gag1195]

As much as Cody ended up enjoying his time with Sam, yeah, I gotta agree with the group how stupid and careless it was. It's very sweet that he is trying to cover for his crush, but it isn't going to be an easy road for the two of them.

I cannot wait to see what the House plans for penance! 19 righteously pissed off Frat bros with an established penchant for bondage... I almost feel sorry for Sam and Ryan... almost...

[KidnappedCowboy]

Cody melted my heart.

He's a true cowboy...not betraying Sam's trust.

But he also lied to his Dad.

Sam better come clean to restore Cody to honor in his Dad's eyes.

I need to work on my "Swiss Seat."

Anyone want to help me with it?

[Guardianbound]

LJ's disappointment hits hardest here. I wonder how long Cody can hold his lie. Will he change his mind about Sam after some time apart, it seemed like there was something genuine and pure about their interaction with one another

[Volobond]

Cody is the sweetest golden retriever of a cowboy out there, I gotta say, but I can't really think of Sam as "worth it." Hopefully Cody can explain that Sam was acting a fool and Cody doesn't want to press things, because I know it hurts both him and LJ to have this between them. Good thing Nate and the gang are here to help clue in the other brothers so any punishment Cody faces will be more fun than planned.

Basically, I still am as enamored with the Codester as ever and my burgeoning empathy for Sam seems to have run out a little.

[Bootmark]

Dang the excitement Cody and Sam was all building up - until it was shattered.
Great chapter!

[wataru14]

After (another) overly-long absence, here is the final chapter of Halloween.
Now that my show is over and my vacation is finished, I'm hoping to not have so long a delay between chapters. But we'll see how life goes.


HALLOWEEN EPILOGUE

The dirty beater pickup truck made its way through campus, driving painfully slowly. The apprehension and hesitation of both driver and passenger echoed in its movement. Ryan kept his eyes glued to the road in front of him while Sam kicked around some discarded trash in the footwell below him. Neither had spoken since they crossed the gate onto university property.

“You sure we have to do this?” Ryan asked stiffly for what seemed like the millionth time since this morning.

“I told you,” Sam replied. “In exchange for not pressing charges, they said we both have to come to the house and receive our ‘punishment.’ Whatever it is. I have no idea.” Ryan frowned, but Sam continued, saying “Do you want to go to jail for 25 years? Because that’s what you get for kidnapping. Cody was fine with it, but Mr. Jessup was seething mad. He’d do it in a hot second. Make no mistake.”

“But the whole thing was…”

“Don’t give me that,” Sam snapped. “Yeah, it was all my idea, but you’re the one who actually did it. I wasn’t at the party, don’t forget. You’d be just as guilty as me.” Ryan didn’t have an answer for that as he turned the wheel and the truck entered Fraternity Row. The TUG House loomed ahead of them at the end of the cul-du-sac, growing larger and more ominous as they approached.

“What’re they gonna do to us?” Ryan gulped.

“I don’t know,” Sam shrugged. “Cody said he wasn’t allowed to say when I called him. Just that we had to come and let the boys take their revenge on us. Then the slate would be clear.”

Ryan pulled against the curb in front of the house. The whole place looked deserted. No lights in any of the windows and not a soul in the yard. As he and Sam got out of the truck and their worn cowboy boots made contact with the pavement, they finally heard another human voice. On the lawn of the house next door, several brothers of TKL were tossing around a football in the front yard. When the two visitors stepped onto the sidewalk, the group stopped and began to snicker.

- “You fucked up, bros!” one called.
- “They’re gonna make you pay, son!” called another, making a noose gesture around his neck with his hands.
- Another started singing Chopin’s “Funeral March.”

In the yard on the other side of the TUG house, a few members of NRD had emerged, as well. Although not as flamboyantly dramatic as the TKL guys, they were still abuzz with excitement about the prospect of what was about to happen to the two visitors and whispered among themselves, pointing. One called out “Wouldn’t want to be you guys, no doubt about that!”

Ryan stopped. “Let’s get out of here,” he said, gulping.

“We can’t,” Sam answered back. “It’s either this or jail. We have no choice.” Ryan grudgingly nodded and the two made their way through the gate and up the walkway, ignoring the jibes and hoots from the neighboring houses. When they got to the front porch, the tension mounted even higher. The place was spotless. More like a museum than a house. The cushions on the benches were perfectly positioned. The ashtrays had been scrubbed clean. There wasn’t even a stray autumn leaf on the grass of the yard. But the worst thing was the front door. It was slightly ajar, and gently swung with the passage of the November wind. Inside was pitch black.

“Here goes nothing,” Sam said, and stepped through the threshold.

As soon as Ryan joined him in the foyer, the door slammed shut behind them. Of its own accord. The sudden movement sent a jolt down both of their spines. They took a few steps into the house, letting their eyes adjust to the darkness. Then they heard the footsteps.

It was a march. Two dozen sets of feet tromping in a grizzly cadence, perfectly in synch, coming from all directions. Closer and closer until the echoing footsteps were all around them in the darkness. Sam and Ryan instinctively stood back to back as they drew near, and finally stopped with a stomp, precise and coordinated as a military maneuver. Then, with a blinding flash, the lights came on.

Surrounding the pair on all sides was the entirety of TUG. Dressed in their ritual garb. Flanking them on either side were fourteen men. They wore sneakers, camouflage cargo pants, and red TUG long-sleeve T-shirts. Their faces were painted up in black and white warpaint, giving them terrifying visages, and red bandanas covered their heads. They had their arms behind their backs and stood with complete focus, their eyes boring into Sam and Ryan’s very souls. Behind the hapless duo were four more, dressed and positioned the same, only in white instead of red and slightly younger.

At the head of the hall were four older men. The two on the ends wore the same TUG uniform, only in gold. One was tall and dark, with prominent Italian features. The other was shorter, but just as fit and muscular, with an almost predatory look on his face. He licked his lips ominously. Between them was a rugged, burly man in early middle age. He wore cowboy boots, jeans, a Stetson, and nothing else save a TUG bandana covering his face. All three were strong and imposing, but the worst of the lot was the fourth man. Dressed like the group flanking the pair on the sides, only in black, he had a command and presence that made Sam and Ryan feel like they were two feet tall. He stared at them with a kingly disregard, a displeasure and scorn in his eyes that the two visitors felt like a two-ton weight on their shoulders.

After the tension reached a fever pitch, he finally spoke. “Brothers, alumni, and honored guest,” he said, his voice booming like Gandalf. “These two have wronged one of our family. One of our own. Stealing him from us and holding him against his will. We should hand them over to the police to face justice for their crimes, but we have decided to be magnanimous and show them mercy.”

At the sound of the word “mercy,” a sinister chuckle erupted from all 23 men. It sent chills down Sam and Ryan’s spines.

“Let the punishment commence.”

The group all turned as one in an almost choreographer motion. The four at the head of the group about-faced and started walking farther into the house. The side groups turned to follow them and started walking slowly, in step with each other. Sam and Ryan were frozen in place, but started following along when the four white-clad boys marched up to them and nudged them forward. Sam recognized one of them through the facepaint as Nate, Cody’s roommate, but he noticed that there were four of them, not five. Cody was not among them. With the formation closed around them, Sam and Ryan had no choice but to follow along. The parade marched through the first-floor hall, coming to a door leading down. The man in the Stetson went through first, descending a staircase into some sort of basement. The men in gold followed, then the man in black. The “honor guard” on their flanks stopped at the door and guided Sam and Ryan onto the stairs before following behind. The younger men in white brought up the rear, Nate closing the door as the group made its way down into the depths.

Nate had been quite busy down here the past day or two. The basement, normally used for ritual and recreation, was done up to look like a medieval torture chamber. He used all his knowledge of art and design to the absolute hilt. One unfamiliar with the frat would think that Buffalo Bill lived here. Originally Brett had thought it was a little much, but he decided to allow Nate to have his fun, considering his personal stake in what had happened. And Nate had outdone himself. Unhinged scrawling covered the walls and torture implements were displayed in the perfect places to maximize effect, but there were two features that stood out in the room above all others.

The first was a black steel cage. About 3’ tall, 3’ wide, and 5’ long, the cage took up a prominent place in the center of the room. A lamp from above illuminated it, casting a circular pool of light around its base. Inside the cage was Cody. He was barefoot, clad only in tight white briefs. His ankles and wrists were fettered in wide leather cuffs, buckled and locked with padlocks. He knelt on a threadbare pillow, his arms tethered behind his back by a chain connecting his leather cuffs. A wide, thick, leather band covered his mouth, buckled behind his head. He looked up at Sam and Ryan with a plaintive, haunted look. Those in full control of their faculties would immediately notice how staged Cody’s look was, but Sam and Ryan were too freaked out to read into it. They both stopped aghast when they saw him.

Brett strode over to them as the rest of the group took their choreographed positions in the room. He said “Brother Cody has still not finished his own penance for his complacency in your little scheme. Pay him no mind.” On cue, Cody gave a pathetic grunt and lowered his head. Brett then walked over to the stage, where the second main feature of the room was placed.

He raised his arm and indicated a large wheel occupying most of the stage area. Like the wheel on a game show. It was garishly colored red and gold with a pointer at the top. The face was divided into several sections, each with a word written in large white letters. The two men in gold stood on either side and the shirtless masked man in the Stetson stood in front of it with his arms folded over his chest. Sam and Ryan were pushed to the foot of the stage, staring up at the wheel in apprehension. The masked man said, in a country accent that both Sam and Ryan immediately recognized, “For the wrongs you have both done to this organization, and to me and mine on a personal level, you will receive your punishment. Let the Wheel decide!”

The gathered brothers echoed him; “Let the Wheel decide!”

Ryan was pulled away from Sam and grabbed by the men in gold. They pulled him up onto the stage and held him by the arms and shoulders, facing him towards the wheel. Sam unconsciously took a step back, but a titanically strong set of hands stopped him from behind, gripping his shoulders. A behemoth in red had stepped out of formation and blocked his movement from behind. In a resonating basso voice, the man whispered, “Nope. Not getting away on my watch.” Sam could feel the strength in the hands and immediately stopped in his tracks.

The man in the Stetson grabbed the edge of the wheel and pulled down with all his might. It spun clockwise with a sickening clacking sound as the pointer moved between the spokes along the edge. The crowd erupted into a cacophony of chatter and cheering, calling out for specific outcomes of the spin.

Around and around the wheel went, slightly slowing each time. As its velocity chugged down, Ryan could see the writing on the sections as they spun by: hogtie, suspension, crucifixion, sawhorse… His stomach was in knots as the wheel slowed and slowed, finally coming to rest on… strappado.

The assembled brothers all sprung to life at once with a raucous shout. A pair ran over to a shiny black cabinet against the far wall and began rooting through the items stored within. Ryan couldn’t see what they were, but he heard metallic clanking. Another went over to the side wall and began lowering a crank. A chain began to slowly lower from the ceiling behind him.

“Strap-ado?” Ryan asked, puzzled. “What does that mean?”

“You’ll see, buckaroo!” a smarmy voice said. Ryan was pulled from the stage and onto the floor under where the chain was slowly descending. Several hands removed his denim jacket and started to unbutton his shirt. Ryan tried to push them off, but every time he tried, another hand would appear from somewhere and slap his away. By the time the chain had completely lowered, Ryan was fully stripped to the waist.

What happened next was a blur. Hands grabbed his arms and pulled them behind his back. He felt the bite of steel handcuffs around his wrists. He had experienced this before, of course. What red-blooded young rodeo rider didn’t end up in the back seat of a cop car after a wild night of drinking? But this was different. As the cuffs ratcheted closed, Ryan looked down and saw that two more red-clad men were pulling his legs apart, into a wide stance. He was held firmly in place as a metal bar was carried over to him and placed on the floor between his legs. It was about four feet long and had a steel manacle on each end. He started to protest as each of his cowboy-booted ankles was brought towards the manacles, but a hand clamped over his mouth. A voice, dripping with honey and venom at the same time, said “You talk too much.” Ryan could only make pathetic muffled grunts as his ankles were locked into the manacles on the ends of the bar, forcing his legs to remain spread apart.

With his wide stance, it was all Ryan could do to keep from toppling over. He could maintain his balance if he stayed still, but if he moved too much, his position was too unstable and he knew he would go down hard. With his hands cuffed behind him, he’d be unable to break his fall, so he decided that squirming and struggling was not in his best interest right now. As he concentrated on maintaining his balance, he felt something metal placed against his bare back.

It was thin, and felt like an inverted “T.” The main crossbar was about a foot wide. As it was held in place against his upper back, Ryan felt that there was some sort of leather cuff attached to each of the three ends of the T. He felt unseen hands fastening the wide side cuffs around his biceps. He whipped his head to the side and saw that red-clad brutes were cinching the cuffs around his arms, buckling and locking them closed. The cuff on the top of the T was wrapped around his neck. A danged collar!!! He couldn’t struggle, in fear of falling over, as the three leather cuffs were fully secured and locked. His arms, already cuffed behind his back, were held completely immobile by the armbar behind him.

The shorter of the two men in gold strutted over, holding something in his hands. It looked like a steel ring with leather straps hanging from each side. The man smirked and said “Open up, sweetie.” As the hand covering his mouth was removed, Ryan scrunched his brow and clamped his lips tightly shut. He knew what that was for and there was no way he was letting that thing go in his mouth. The man holding the ring gag just rolled his eyes. He reached over and grabbed Ryan’s left nipple with his thumb and forefinger. “You asked for it,” the man said, and gave the nipple a firm pinch and twist.

Ryan let out a shout of surprise and pain, and then realized a second too late what he had done. With lightning speed, the ring was inserted in his mouth, behind his teeth. His mouth was forced open wide. The two men in gold high-fived. The hands that had previously been covering Ryan’s mouth buckled and locked the straps of the ring gag behind his head. Then everyone stepped away.

Ryan thought his ordeal was over as drool started to form in his mouth and leak out of his open maw. But he was very much mistaken. He had been too distracted by the nipple twist to notice, but someone had attached the chain from the ceiling to the chain of his handcuffs. The taller man in gold went over to the winch on the wall and began turning the crank. At first, Ryan didn’t feel anything, but as the slack of the chain pulled away and it became taut, he realized what was happening. The chain began to recede into the ceiling, pulling his arms up with it. As his cuffed and secured arms rose higher and higher, Ryan had to lean forward to maintain his balance. Up and up the chain kept pulling, causing a dull throbbing strain on his arms. Ryan was completely doubled over now, his chest nearly parallel to the floor. The chain receded further, pulling his arms up behind his back towards the ceiling. And the collar attached to his armbar forced his head back, making him unable to look anywhere but forward.

As the ache began to spread, Ryan saw the tall man in gold stop cranking the lever and locked the chain in place. “That oughtta do it,” he said. “Don’t want to get too crazy on a newbie. He doesn’t have your… flexibility, does he, Wade?” The shorter man in gold blew the taller one a kiss and smiled. Ryan craned his neck left and right and saw the whole room was watching him. He squirmed a little, but all that did was elicit a low chuckle from the spectators.

“The Wheel has spoken!” the man in black bellowed. The crowd gave a guttural “hut!” in response.

Sam was dumbfounded. Stuck in the grip of the behemoth standing behind him, he could only gape in awe as his friend was chained and stretched. A cold sweat broke out all over him as he realized all eyes had now turned to him.

“And now for the mastermind,” the man in black said. “You orchestrated this whole scheme. It was your idea to kidnap Cody.” The crowd growled as one. “But, I can see there is affection there, underneath. It was not done out of malice. That is the only reason why you’re here and not in a jail cell right now.” Sam gulped and nodded as the man in black continued. “If you endure your punishment without complaint, you may be allowed to see each other after this. If Cody desires it, that is. If he does not, then let it be known that you will not like what happens if we ever see you again.” Sam nodded as the shirtless man in the Stetson approached the wheel. The man in black said “OK, LJ. Give it a spin.”

Sam watched in fascination as the wheel began its rapid spinning. He couldn’t keep up with the words as they flew by. It seemed to spin forever before slowing down. Clickety clack it went as the resistance from the pointer against the spokes slowed it down. Finally it came to rest on… mummification.

Another cheer rose up from the crowd as Sam felt himself being herded over to the empty space on the far side of Cody’s cage. He was in a complete daze as his jacket and beat-up ball cap were removed and discarded. Several TUG brothers scattered and then returned, carrying thick wide rolls of black tape. Even in his half-stupor, Sam could tell that this was not $1.99 duct tape from the hardware store. This was industrial-strength. Meant for construction projects. Designed to bear the heaviest of loads and endure the most intense strain. The red-clad TUG brothers surrounded him with sickening grins on their painted faces, but stopped when the man in black shouted “Wait!”

All motion ceased instantly. The man in black walked over to the group and took a roll of the tape from the nearest brother. “I have a different idea.” He looked over at the white-clad Freshmen, standing apart from the group in a short row, watching. He tossed the roll into the air and it sailed across the room, caught one-handed by the one named Ray.

“Since Cody is a member of the Freshman Class, I think it’s only fitting for them to exact the Brotherhood’s revenge on Sam for what he did to one of their own,” the man in black said. Mason seemed apprehensive about the suggestion, and Ray just turned the roll over in his hands a few times, deep in thought. Leo just shrugged, a small wry smile forming on his lips, but Sam couldn’t tell what was behind it. Nate, however, snatched the roll of tape from Ray’s hands and stepped forward.

“We thank you, Mr. President, for your kind offer,” he said, a sneer appearing on his face. The other Freshmen looked at him quizzically, but realized that they had to put up a united front. Discord among themselves would make them lose face in the eyes of their captives. Which would be a bad reflection on TUG. Mason and Ray gave each other concerned looks, but stepped up beside Nate. Leo gave his trademark smarmy smirk and joined them.

“Very well,” Brett said. “Boys, have at him.” Leo, Mason, and Ray took rolls of tape from the hands of nearby upperclassmen and the group advanced on Sam. Each pulled the end of the roll loose at the same time, causing an echoing squelch as the four rolls cried out in unison.

Mason felt odd about this. How were there actions so synchronized? He and Ray were clearly not on board with this, but they were acting in concert with the eager Nate. Was it Brett? Was he using his… no, he wasn’t even wearing the ring. Come to think of it, Mason hadn’t seen it on him in several days. So it couldn’t be that. Maybe Nate was right. Maybe there was something subconsciously acting on them. Part of the groupthink of the fraternity when they were gathered in ritual. Nate said he had felt it on the hill the first day the dorms opened, but Mason always thought it was just Nate being overly dramatic. But now he was beginning to think there was something to it: a wave of single-minded purpose that swept everyone up in its path. Impossible to resist.

Without conferring, each of the four Freshmen took a section of Sam’s body. Ray pulled Sam’s arms behind his back and began wrapping the tape around his wrists. Sam felt the gooey adhesive clinging to his skin as the tape tightened. Then over his hands themselves. Ray wasn’t content with just securing his wrists, Sam realized. He was encasing his hands completely and totally in the tape. He unconsciously clenched his hands into fists as the sturdy black tape enveloped them. Ray, perhaps subconsciously drawing from his own mummification during the Bid Party, completely encased Sam’s hands, leaving nothing but two shiny black irregularly shaped orbs when he was done.

Satisfied with his work, Ray nodded to the others. The four immediately got down to business. Mason started on Sam’s ankles, pressing his legs totally flush against each other and advancing the tape in tightly overlapping, methodically placed layers. Sam’s cowboy-booted feet were tightly pressed together as the tape slowly ascended. At first, he didn’t see much progress in Mason’s taping, but the longer he watched, the more he saw the tape cocoon taking shape. “The legs are the strongest part of the body,” Mason quipped. “So we have to make sure it’s extra secure so he doesn’t bust the tape.” Sam saw the wisdom in Mason’s words, but it did him no comfort as the tape continued its climb up his legs.

Ray started at Sam’s collarbone. He pulled the tape off the roll in long swaths, wrapping them around his shoulders and down his biceps. Ray didn’t have Mason’s patience or methodical focus, but what he lacked in that area he more than made up for in brute strength. The tape was wound around him with the tightness one would use with rope. Unnecessary with the adhesive and tensile strength of the tape, but Ray didn’t seem to care. The black tape slowly made its way down Sam’s chest, tightening each time and pinning his arms to his sides as it went down. Sam watched in continued fascination as his upper body began to disappear behind the growing black stretchy bands.

Leo walked around with a smarmy disinterest for a bit, then knelt down and plastered the end of his tape on Sam’s legs. Halfway between the knees and the crotch. He said “At the rate Mason’s going we’ll graduate before this sucker’s fully taped” with a sarcastic smile.

Mason chuckled and said “If it’s worth doing, it’s worth doing well. I can’t help it if I’m a perfectionist.”

Leo laughed and started to wind his tape upwards. His work wasn’t haphazard, but it lacked both Ray’s power and Mason’s finesse. It was slightly sloppy, but still quite effective. He moved with decent speed, stopping only when the tape reached the crotch of Sam’s jeans. “This is my favorite part!” Leo said with an impish grin.

“Yeah, we all know why you chose there,” Ray said with a chuckle. Leo ignored the quip and started to advance the tape up over Sam’s bulge and around his hips. Slowly but surely, his entire body was disappearing inside the shiny black cocoon.

Nate alone did not jump into action. He put his roll of tape down on the floor and walked away, coming back a moment later with a stepstool. Sam was noticeably taller than he, and if he was going to be able to reach the head, Nate would need a lift. After placing the stepstool down, he didn’t pick up the tape. Instead, he grabbed a box of saran wrap. Stepping up on the stool, he smoothed back Sam’s hair, which was unkepmt from both bedhead and the baseball cap he wore that day. Nate placed the edge of the wrap on Sam’s forehead and began to cover his head with the clear clingy film. He took great care in tucking flyway hairs under the wrap, never taking his eyes off Sam for an instant. When he finally pressed the edge of the film down, Sam looked like he was wearing a swimmer’s cap of clear plastic.

With that done, Nate took the black tape and placed the edge on Sam’s forehead, over the saran wrap. He started to wind down, going around Sam’s head and face with each pass. He left a space for Sam’s eyes and nostrils as he went down. Sam had been calm and passive until this point, but something about Nate unnerved him. His hackles were raised to the max. When Nate reached Sam’s mouth, he stopped.

Nate said, “May I improvise, Mr. President?” Brett looked puzzled for a moment, but then nodded. Nate looked at Hoss and grinned. The big man started to unlace his work boots and slowly removed them.

In the confined space with its closed windows, the smell hit everyone like a truck as soon as Hoss’ shoes were off. Danny held his nose and shouted “Jesus Christ on a pogo stick! Are you trying to kill us, man?” Hoss flipped him off playfully and then pulled his putrid socks off his mammoth feet. Nate held his breath as he took them. They were soggy with footsweat and so discolored, they were nearly yellow. Nate held them up in front of Sam’s face. The nearly mummified prisoner winced and gasped, desperate for clean air.

Nate leered at him and said “My man has been wearing these since the day before the Halloween party. I told him not to change or wash them.” He leaned in and whispered into Sam’s ear. “He’ll do anything I tell him to. Can you believe it? That hunk of grade-A farm-raised beef obeys my every command. If I told him to beat the crap out of you… or worse… he’d do it without thinking twice. And don’t doubt that for a second.” Sam’s eyes grew wide. “For what you did to Cody, I should sic him on you. But out of respect for Cody and Brett, I won’t. But just you remember what I can do if I think you’re going to hurt Cody again.”

Before Sam could say anything in response, Nate balled up the putrid mass of sodden cotton and jammed it hard between his jaws. Sam blanched as the foul juices seeped from the fabric and onto his tongue. He fought to hold back his gag reflex. But Nate wasted no time. As soon as the fetid socks disappeared into Sam’s mouth, the tape continued its journey down his face. Any hope of spitting the socks out disappeared as the tape enveloped his mouth and chin and descended down his neck.

Eventually, after Nate had encased the top of Sam’s head in tape as well, the four boys’ binding all met up. Sam was completely encased. He felt the stretchy tightness all over his body, rendering him unable to move at all, other than pitiful wormlike wriggling. The four Freshmen took a step back to admire their work and Nate said, “Ray, lay him down. We have some finishing touches left.” Ray carefully took Sam by the arms, lifted him up, and laid him on his side on the concrete floor. Mason immediately went to work on Sam’s feet, wrapping more tape over the bridges and under the soles. He worked with the same precision and focus as before, and when he was done, Sam was completely wrapped from sole to crown in the tape. Only his eyes and nostrils were uncovered.

The boys stepped back as Nate ripped off one last length of tape. He held it in his hands as he knelt down beside Sam. There was a collective gasp from the assembled brothers as Nate brought the strip dangerously close to Sam’s nostrils. The tall man in gold immediately started moving, but the shorter one stopped him, shaking his head.

“I could do it,” Nate said. “Sure, they’d pull me off of you, but this tape is super adhesive. Who knows if they’d get be able it off in time? How long can you hold your breath?” Sam started thrashing and grunting like mad. His nostrils flaring in near panic. Who was this kid? He heard TUG recruited oddballs, but full-on psychopaths??? His flailing got more desperate as the tape was brought closer to his face. He braced himself for the worst.

Then everything went dark. Nate applied the last strip of tape over Sam’s eyes and smoothed it down. Even though his ears were covered by a layer of tape, Sam heard Nate whisper “Remember what I said.” Nate walked away and he and Hoss retreated to a far corner of the basement. Sam took deep breaths through his uncovered nostrils.

Brett looked over at Nate and Hoss, who seemed to be in a heated argument. Then he turned back to the crowd. “And so it is done,” he announced. Danny and Scott opened Cody’s cage and helped him out. “Brother Cody has completed his penance and will be welcomed back into the fold as if nothing happened. We will celebrate the return of our brother and leave these two to contemplate their misdeeds.” The crowd cheered and descended on Cody, hugging him and patting him on the back as his fetters were removed.

Brett knelt down to Sam and said, “You did good. Took it like a champ, even with… well, you know. If you and Cody want to pursue something, you have our blessing. As long as it’s on the up-and-up. No more kidnapping, you hear?” Sam managed to chuckle through the soggy putrescence in his mouth and nodded as best he could inside his tape prison. Brett said “We’ll leave you two here to stew for an hour or so and then let you go. After that you’re both free to come up and party with us if you want. I can’t guarantee the boys will be nice to you, but it is what it is.”

Brett stood up and said “Form up and roll out.” The group got into their formation, but when they did there were two empty spaces in the line. Brett gritted his teeth and led the group upstairs.

As the brotherhood marched up and into the main floor of the house, Brett thought to himself “He and I are going to have a long talk at the retreat.” He turned out the light and closed the door behind him.

Coming Soon: The Retreat – part 1: “Prisoner of War”

[gag1195]

All things considered, I think their punishments were more than fair. Especially with leaving things up to chance with the wheel of torture. Some of those punishments were far worse than others. I suspect Cody had a hand in forestalling the worst of TUG's ire. I do appreciate the house's brotherly concern for Cody and this burgeoning relationship, putting the suitor through the paces and all that, and ultimately, if not begrudgingly, offering their blessing.

I can't wait for the retreat and the mixed up Senior/Freshmen pairs!

[Wedgieboy69]

Worth the wait. The punishments were fitting, yet not overboard or unrealistic.

[Guardianbound]

High quality as always. I wonder who is missing in the lineup of TUG brothers. And who is Brett going to confront. Next chapter's title already hints at something really fun. Can't wait for the retreat, right on time for the holidays too!

[wataru14]

I suspect Cody had a hand in forestalling the worst of TUG's ire.

He definitely did. Hoss, and especially Wade, had much more drastic plans in mind.

Worth the wait. The punishments were fitting, yet not overboard or unrealistic.

Thanks!

I wonder who is missing in the lineup of TUG brothers. And who is Brett going to confront.

The missing brothers were Nate and Hoss. And Brett wants to have a talk with Nate at the retreat.

[KidnappedCowboy]

A man bound in a cage, the strappado, and mummification...checked all my boxes!

The Wheel of torture reminded me of the beginning of a video...Dwight Yoakam's "Suspicious Minds" from 1992. A familiar character actor spins the wheel, and Dwight Yoakam (wearing very tight leather trousers) ends up chained to Emily Joyce.

Inspiration, @wataru14?

[Bootmark]

Great job as always, both the punishments and the reasoning behind this. And of course, looking forward to the next chapter.