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

TiedupNick
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Post by TiedupNick »

Each update to the auction better than the one before it!

I wonder if Travis and Wade's suspicions are able to identify the troublemaker before anything untoward happens...
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wataru14
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Location: Las Vegas, Nevada, USA

Post by wataru14 »


The Auction part 5 – Plans Within Plans

When Ray emerged from the curtain, wearing his MCU wrestling singlet that left absolutely nothing to the imagination, Travis nearly threw his paddle up in the air immediately. His anticipation was so high he could barely contain himself.

“No!” he though. “Wait for the intro to be over. And then let some others bid first. Wait until it starts to wind down. Otherwise you’ll spook them!” He shifted his position in his seat to melt further into the darkness. If he won, they’d all know he was here when he came up to claim his prize, but he didn’t want to give himself away just yet. “Patience, patience.”

Ray was a bit taken aback when he found out what the auction was and what they would be expected to do. He had no issue being the center of attention, but the performative aspect of it was awkward. The movie was one thing, but dancing and juggling and whatever else the others would be doing? He had no idea, so he had been intently watching the others from backstage to learn what to do. While not a dancer, he could still flex with the best of them, so that’s what he decided to make his “sales pitch.” His singlet would put all his assets on display, which was something he was definitely used to. And “assets” were what he chose to focus on tonight. With a sly smile he turned to face away from the audience and squeezed his glutes. The gold spandex singlet nearly burst from the strain.

“What can I say about him that you can’t already see for yourselves?” Mason said. “Perfect body. Perfect face. Dedication, loyalty, modesty… just kidding on that last part. He’s cocky, but he has the right to be, don’t you think? They say ‘when you got it, flaunt it,’ and this boy has definitely got it. He’s got stamina to burn and he knows all his ‘holds’ and ‘reversals.’ And he’s always up for a challenge. So who will be first to bid on our Freshman phenom?”

Without thinking, Travis shot his paddle sky-high. He froze in terror as Mason said “we have an enthusiastic $10 from… whoever that is in the back!” Travis sighed in relief as Mason’s attention turned to the other paddles popping up all around the crowd. Regaining his composure, Travis didn’t start bidding again until the price was over $300 and the casual bidders had dropped out. When the bidding approached $500, Wade looked in Travis’ direction and started to raise his paddle. Travis froze, a look of desperation on his face, and Wade stopped at the last second. He just shook his head in disappointment and placed it back on his leather-covered lap. Travis bit his lip as Mason scanned the crowd for another bid. But it looked like the others were all done. There were still four more to go after Ray, Travis knew, and he guessed people were saving their money for a chance at Cody or Shane. Time seemed to dilate as Mason raised his gavel and bring it down on the table.

“Sold!” he cried, “to… the mystery bidder in the dark. Not too ominous. Well, step into the light and come on down!”

Travis hesitated, and then stood up. As soon as the traveling spotlight hit him, the entire crowd fell deathly silent.

All conversation stopped. No one dared even rustle their programs or tap their feet. It was quiet as the grave as Travis made his way down. Finally, someone cried out “What the fuck is this?” In an instant, the crowd started booing.

Travis very nearly gave up and bolted. The remaining TUG Brothers from the back had all come out to see what the silence was about and stared dumbfounded at him. Even Mason was speechless. Travis was afraid someone in the crowd was going to grab him. But the din subsided when Shane took the mic from Mason and addressed the audience.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” he said. “There’s no need for that. Whatever our problems were with DIX, they are all settled and in the past now. They are as welcome here as anyone. That’s one of our greatest qualities: we never turn anyone away. Especially not the man who made it possible for everyone to get out of the house alive. You should all be cheering him right now.”

Cowed by Shane’s admonishment, the crowd settled down, but the mood was still tense. When Travis got to the stage, Mason asked him what his plans for Ray for the weekend were, but he gave a halted and evasive answer. Sensing that the momentum of the evening was coming to a crashing halt, Mason knew he had to come in for the save. “Oh, a secret!” he said. “Probably going to do some in-depth one-on-one rehearsing for that student film you both are doing, eh?” But the crowd didn’t respond. Nervously, Travis walked over to the display table.

Ray hurriedly came over. “What are you doing?” he whispered. But Travis didn’t answer. He was too paralyzed to speak, and Ray actually felt bad for him. What kind of stunt was he pulling? Ray knew he couldn’t be FORCED to go along with Travis if he REALLY didn’t want to. If something untoward was suspected an auctionee could absolutely refuse, and the winner’s money would be returned. But that would be a major blow to TUG’s reputation unless it was something clear and obvious. Which this was not. It had happened before, but not in a long time. And that was one distinction Ray wasn’t keen on earning. People were ragging on Travis because he was pledging DIX, but no one really held anything against him personally. He wasn’t a bad guy on top of everything. Not like his asshole brother. But still, the timing was terrible and totally tone-deaf. He looked over at Shane for guidance, but his Big Bro was unreadable.

As Travis nervously perused the remaining gear, Ray thought for a moment. He saw Travis’ nervousness and near panic. It was… strangely endearing in a way. He remembered when Mason came to him to ask about his “birthday present” in the locker room during move-in week. It was almost the same feel. Travis really wanted this. And he didn’t have anything sinister planned, did he? Not after the previous weeks. He couldn’t be that stupid. Finally, Ray mercifully reached down and grabbed a pair of handcuffs and a TUG bandana.

“Look,” he whispered as the crowd fidgeted. “You have your reasons for this. And I WILL hear them. But first we need to get out of here before Mason can’t keep them calm anymore. We’ll talk then. For now, here.” And he put the gear into Travis’ hands.

A few feet away, Mason was rapidly losing his confidence. The evening thus far had been easy for him, but this was throwing him for a loop. His momentum had been derailed. Someone like Scott could think on his feet and recover this situation easily, but he wasn’t used to improv like this. He took an extra big breath from his oxygen tube and looked over at Scott desperately. Taking the cue, Scott started to play “Yakkety Sax” over the sound system as Travis awkwardly cuffed Ray’s hands in front of him. The crowd chuckled, finally allowing the tension to be broken. A quick cleave gag later, and Ray was ready to go.

With the crowd now less hostile, Mason got his flow back. He was tempted, for a moment, to make Travis a target for a joke or two. A way to use the crowd’s dislike to guide them back into his hands. He was vulnerable and it would be easy. But he stopped. “No,” he thought. “That’s what people did to me for my whole life. What kind of asshole would I be to do it to someone else? Especially someone who’s in a really tight spot? Never!” Mason put his hand on Travis’ shoulder, and the DIX pledge nearly jumped out of his skin from fright. “I’m quite attached to this one so try not to keep him out too late,” Mason said with a smile. He shot a quick look at Ray, who said “It’s OK” with his eyes. Mason patted Travis on the arm and guided him to the door.

“Well, that’s over!” Mason said with a relieved sigh after Travis and Ray had disappeared into the parking lot. He had half expected the crowd to rush the stage at one point. With Hoss indisposed and most of the Brothers in various forms of restraint, they wouldn’t have been able to regain control if that had happened. Thankfully, it didn’t. Mason made a mental note to thank Scott and Shane later. “Only four men left,” Mason said, “so let’s get back into the groove.”

Omar came through the curtains, wearing logger boots, unfathomably tight skinny jeans with ripped knees, and a red flannel shirt. He was the most muscular member of TUG, after Hoss that is, and his barrel chest and steel-girder biceps gave evidence to why he was slated to be next year’s sergeant-at-arms. His hair was stylishly shaved on the sides and pulled into a high ponytail and his beard was immaculately groomed. Scott, with a smirk, started to play Monty Python’s Lumberjack song, but Omar rolled his eyes and flipped him off. All eyes no on him, Omar grabbed the lapels of his flannel and pulled apart hard. The fabric tore like it was tissue paper.

“DAYUM!” a female voice shouted from the crowd, followed by raucous laughter from the group. Omar bounced his pecs in response.

“Omar here came all the way from Afghanistan as a refugee when he was just a kid,” Mason said into the mic. “With the body of a titan and the face of a supermodel, he’s quite possibly the total package. And many of you might not know this, but Omar here is majoring in Culinary Arts and Management. He’s a master chef without par! When he graduates he’ll give Gordon Ramsey a run for his money and you’ll be lining up for hours to get a seat in one of his restaurants. And trust me, you’ll all want to get a taste of his meaty ‘kebab.’ Don’t miss the chance to be an early ‘taste-tester.’”

Before Mason even officially opened the bidding, there was a frantic explosion of paddles rising into the air from all over the crowd. Mason could barely keep up! The bidding soared quite high quite quickly, though, and most dropped out before too long. Now only two were left, locked in a fierce war. It was between the “DAYUM” girl and the professor who bought Brandon. And neither wanted to yield. Realizing he was now locked in an arms race that he didn’t want to see to its end, the professor got up from his seat and gave Mason a “just a second” gesture when bids reached $725. He went over to the girl and whispered something to her, which she considered for a moment before nodding in agreement. The professor bid $750 without a response from the young lady.

“And sold for $750 to the good professor after a hard battle!” Mason said. “Come on up again, prof!” The professor helped the young lady from her seat and escorted her by the hand onto the stage with him. “What’s this?” Mason said. “Did you two make some sort of alliance?”

“We sure did,” the professor said. “I only need Omar for a day to build my shed. Brandon will be sufficient to do whatever other sundry tasks I have. But LaShann here has vastly different plans. I figured we could work out a timeshare.” LaShann handed the professor $375 from her purse.

“Went halfsies, I see,” Mason chuckled. “Very shrewd. You scored two big draws for quite a bargain this evening, Teach.” But the professor wasn’t paying Mason much attention. Instead, he went back into the audience and wheeled the handtruck containing Brandon back to the front of the stage. Then he hopped back up and pulled another one out from under the table. LaShann, meanwhile, was thoroughly inspecting the merchandise. Omar gave a cocky “come-hither” sneer as she rubbed her hands up and down his arms and chest. He bounced his pecs alluringly for her amusement. While the professor arranged the two handtrucks back-to-back, LaShann took a pair of scissors from the table and cut away the white tanktop that Omar wore.

“Won’t be needing that this weekend,” she said, licking her lips. “Oh, I got plans for you, boo…” He pulled her in close and stroked her hair, whispering “can’t wait, Khasita…” LaShann nearly fainted.

“OK, you two,” Mason interrupted. “Not yet. As per your deal, apparently the professor gets him first.” LaShann frowned, but honored the arrangement and pulled herself away. Back on the arena floor, the professor waved Omar over and pointed at the second handtruck. He looked rather impatient.

With a cocky strut, Omar hopped off the stage without using the stairs and headed over, LaShann following behind. At the professor’s signal, he backed up against the empty handtruck and put his arms down at his sides. “I think you should have the honors, young lady,” the professor said, handing her a full roll of industrial tape. LaShann snatched it hungrily and nearly dove to the floor to start taping his ankles. The tape made a heavy squelching sound as it peeled off the roll and began to surround Omar’s lower extremities. Around and around the frame of the truck it went, slowly enveloping both the steel frame and Omar’s jeans. And she had obviously been watching the previous winners. Each pass slightly overlapped the one before, making the shell thick and snug. At the rate she was going, she’d need four rolls to complete the binding!

The professor realized this when the first roll ran out around Omar’s mid-thighs. He took over from there and was much more economical with his taping, reaching all the way up to Omar’s bare nipples by the time his roll ran out. Omar was standing back-to-back with Brandon in identical partial mummification. “I think that will be sufficient,” he said. “There isn’t any frame left to tape him to! Let me secure them together while you can finish him off.” The professor took another roll of tape and began attaching his two prisoners together, enveloping them both at once. LaShann ran back up to the stage, quickly scanned the table, and returned carrying a ring gag.

“This man has a fine-ass beard and I don’t want it getting messed up by tape,” she said as she inserted the ring into Omar’s grateful mouth. “Need that face to be perfect for when I get my hands on him.” She cinched the straps closed behind Omar’s head and buckled it closed. He drooled slightly, but she alluringly wiped it away with her hand. She then stuck her index finger through the ring, and Omar hungrily began suckling it. The professor rolled his eyes as LaShann pulled away, and then wheeled his double-mummy back to his seat, turning them sideways so they could both watch the last three auctions. LaShann blew Omar a kiss before returning to her seat.

“With those two powerhouses on the job, that shed will be up in seconds!” Mason said. “Well, we know what’s in store for Omar afterwards, but what devious plans lie ahead for Brandon when the labor is complete? I guess we’ll find out Monday!” As the crowd settled down, a twangy country rock song began to blare over the speakers.

“And now for one of our most highly anticipated lots!” Mason said. “This Freshman phenom has taken MCU by storm! Popular, handsome, and with a soul pure as a mountain spring, he’s the type to get dirty in the bedroom, but clean up perfectly to take home to momma! One of my closest friends and one of the best dadgum people I’ve ever seen, let’s hear it for CODY!!!!”

The curtains parted and Cody sauntered out, dressed head-to-toe in black leather. Leather cowboy boots, leather chaps and jockstrap, leather vest with nothing underneath, and the leather Stetson that Wade had given him on his head. The only thing that wasn’t leather was the black bandana slung around his neck in Western style. In his hands he held a coiled lasso. As he stepped out in front of the crowd, the explosion of sound was deafening. Cody basked in the attention, did a few hip gyrations, and then started twirling the lasso over his head. With a sultry smirk, he let it go and watched it sail over Mason. As soon as it cleared his shoulders, Cody pulled it tight. And then he was on him like a flash.

The crowd went wild as both Cody and Mason wrestled on the stage, giggling like children. The outcome was a foregone conclusion, but Mason still put up a good fight. But in the end, he was wrapped up on the floor in a neat and professional rodeo-style hogtie, both his hands and both his feet all wrapped up together in front of him in a neat web. Cody took the mic. “Hey y’all,” he said in his honeyed twang. “Why should we get all the fun while poor Mason here misses out? Don’t worry, folks, I’m sure he’ll bring down the house next year! Well, since he’s all tied up right now, I guess I’ll get things started myself!” He rubbed his hands down his bare chest and abs with a smirk. “Who’s got the first bid, ladies and gents?”

Cody put the mic down and pranced around the stage as the bids poured in. Nate rushed up from his seat in the front row and untied Mason so he could at least attempt to keep some form of order. Eventually he did manage to wrangle the bidders in, but something seemed off. Cody seemed suddenly distracted by something. Nate watched Cody and followed his line of sight. Cody was fixating on one particular bidder in the back. A bidder that gave him the creeps, and Nate immediately shared that sentiment. It was hard to put into words exactly what unnerved Nate about him, but he got a cold feeling down his spine as he scanned the barely visible bidder. Shrouded in the shadows of the audience as he was, his face and clothing were too obscured to make out, but Nate could feel the bad vibes all the way from here. He and Cody exchanged worried looks.

“And we have $700 from the man in the back!” Mason said happily. But then even he noticed Cody’s apprehension. Something was very wrong here. “Anyone else? We’re close to a new record here! Surely SOMEONE is willing to go higher?” But the crowd was silent. Scott, and especially Shane, were still forthcoming, and it seemed those who were left were saving their money for them. Cody shot Mason a worried glance and whispered something in his ear.

“Anyone?” Mason said after Cody stepped back into place. There was a slight air of desperation in his voice. “Well, I guess not. Going once… going twice…”

“Two thousand!” came a shout from the audience.

The crowd roared in disbelief. No one had ever earned that much in TUG’s entire history! No one thought in a million years that the bids would get that high. Even Shane had peaked at $1,200 the previous year. The spotlight raced into the audience and caught Wade, who was standing up facing the crowd with his arms folded across his chest and a furious mad-dog expression on his face. He called out into the crowd. “I don’t know what you want with my boy there, but I’m not about to let that happen. Let me get a look at you, you piece of shit!.” The crowd “whoooa’ed” as Nate rushed over to the light operator and indicated where the strange man was seated. The light whirled over, but when it got to the seat, it was empty. The only thing there was a program, crumpled into a ball by angry hands and laying on the chair.

Mason immediately banged his gavel. “Sold!” he cried. Cody jumped off the stage and hugged Wade tightly. “Thank you, sir,” he whispered. “I don’t know who that was, but all I know is that I didn’t want to go with him. I can’t put my finger on why, but I just got the feeling that it would be very bad. Do I sound crazy?”

“No, boy,” Wade said, patting Cody’s shoulders. “I felt the same. Clearly Nate did, too. And so did… never mind. You’re coming with me right now. We’re getting you out of here ASAP. I still have a bad feeling.” Cody nodded and the two hurried for the door together.

“So, Wade,” Mason said, “How are you going to…?” but they were already gone. “Well, that’s disappointing,” Mason joked. He knew that something significant had just happened, even though he didn’t know quite what, and understood why they left in such a hurry. “Guess Mr. Wade couldn’t wait to start bull riding and calf roping, it seems.” The crowd chuckled, breaking the tension again. “Well that just brings us to our next lot!”

Scott started a techno song playing, and then put down his headphones and stood up from behind the DJ booth. The crowd hollered and cheered as he strutted onstage, showing off his new designer clothes and hair. He did an exaggerated model runway walk, complete with turn and pouty expression, before breaking into laughter, grabbing a can of beer from the inside pocket of his blazer, and chugging it down.

“Well, it seems even his recent glow-up can’t tame the party boy inside!” Mason announced. “If you want a weekend of fun and debauchery, Scott here will not disappoint. But there’s a surprisingly deep person underneath all that swagger. Our little scamp is growing up, but that doesn’t mean that he’s been tamed! Far from it, in fact. And with his deep-pocketed daddy now away from the venue, there’s no worries about this particular auction getting sniped! So here we go, folks! Let’s get this started!”

When all was said and done, Scott brought in a hefty sum, but he failed to reach his high level from last year. The only Brother to do that. But he didn’t mind. He knew that his new look wasn’t what people were expecting, and anyway, he had Wade. In the back of his mind, he thought the fact that he wasn’t really on the market anymore played a big role in his numbers. But he knew it was still a respectable sum. As his new owner emerged from the crowd and ascended the stairs, Scott smoothed his lapels and adjusted the cuffs of his designer shirt.

The winner was not what Scott was expecting. At all. They weren’t a student, that was for sure. Coming up the stairs was a man about 6’3” and built like a semi-truck. But that wasn’t the most striking thing about him. That distinction went to the purple and black evening gown he wore, the white wig and full beard combo, and the dangling conch-shell earrings. “Um,” Scott said into the mic. “I was bought by Ursula?”

“Quiet, boy!” the winner said sharply. “Do you want to get sued??? My stage name’s ‘Amanda Huggenkiss,’ and I am shocked and offended that you don’t recognize me!”

“Wait…” Scott said, squinting his eyes… “Stuart! Stewie my man!!! Wow, you look GOOD!!!”

“You know it, bitch!” Amanda said. “But ixnay on the Uartstay when I’m in my gear. Has Wade taught you nothing??? Speaking of which…” Amanda reached into her enormous bra and pulled out a piece of paper, which she sauntered over and handed to Jaquan. “That is an IOU from dear Mr. Wade. He owes me, and that’s how he’s paying up. Charge his card for this one, too.”

Scott laughed. “We worked together at Wade’s two years ago.” He said to a dumbfounded Mason. “Before Stu… Amanda bought a bar on 14th Street and made it the hottest club in Metro City.”

“And that’s where you come in, sweetcheeks,” Amanda said, pinching Scott’s cheeks for emphasis. “We have a BIG event this weekend and, well, our normal DJ isn’t quite up to the task. So I want the best. And I always get what I want.” Scott gave her a gigantic hug. While they embraced, Amanda shifted sideways so the crowd could see her grab full onto Scott’s ass cheeks with her titanic hands. They crowd exploded in cheers. “Oh I missed that,” she winked. “And it’s going to be all the standard fare. Part-time DJ, part time drink service, full-time party favor for the guests. You know the drill.” Scott laughed and nodded as he pulled away. “Which reminds me,” Amanda said. “You’re a little overdressed for the job. Let me give you your uniform…”

Out of her other bra cup, Amanda pulled out a pair of black bikini briefs that looked like they wouldn’t even fit Mason. Scott opened his mouth to protest, but Amanda just took advantage and stuffed them straight in his mouth behind his teeth. Scott chuckled and shrugged. “Heh, whatcha gonna do?” he mumbled through the stuffing.

“We’ll get you dressed, or rather UN-dressed, when we get onsite,” Amanda said, walking over to the display table. She picked up a giant spool of red ribbon. “Merry Christmas, sweetie!” She placed one end of the ribbon on Scott’s chest and held it there as she raised the index finger of her other hand and made a spinning gesture. With a chuckle, Scott began to turn in place, binding himself with the ribbon. When it would hold on its own, Amanda made Scott stop and danced around him merrily, winding the ribbon down lower and lower with each pass. When she reached his feet, she started going back up his body. Back at the top of Scott’s shoulders, Amanda put the ribbon in her teeth and bit it, severing the end from the roll. She tossed the half-spend ribbon spindle back onto the table and tied the end off to one of the folds.

Not quite finished yet, Amanda grabbed an oversize adhesive ribbon bow from the table, peeled off the backing, and slapped it over Scott’s mouth. “Now THAT’s what I want to see under my tree this year! But I’ve been very naughty, so I guess you gotta take the presents when you can get ‘em, right?” The crowd roared its approval and Amanda hefted Scott up over her shoulders in a fireman’s carry. She gave his ass a full slap for the crowd as she descended the stairs. “Toodles, kiddies,” she said as she approached the door. “And everyone over 21 is invited to the festivities, too. Show your ticket for half-price drinks! Bye-eee!” And then she was gone.

“That’s a businesswoman who’s going places!” Mason said. “Let’s just hope there’s something left of Scott once those thirsty queens get done with him!” Mason walked over to the DJ booth and turned off the music. “But now, ladies and gentlemen, we have arrived!” he said. “The last sale of the evening! Our MAIN EVENT, if you will… He’s been our top seller for the last three years, and it’s no secret as to why. Adonis? An amateur! Fabio? A pale ripoff! Here he is… the man of your dreams… the incomparable SHANE!!!”

Shane stepped out from behind the curtain looking like he stepped right off the cover of a romance novel. He wore black calf-high leather boots with folded-down cuffs over leather pants so tight they looked like body paint rather than fabric. The laces that served as a fly were ever-so-subtly loosened, with the laces hanging free to either side. Over his torso, he wore a white blousy pirate shirt open down to his waist and tucked into the pants, giving a teasing glimpse at his chest beneath. He had a swordbelt and rapier at his waist and a black sash across his upper body. His hair was carefully styled to look windswept, and was held back from his face by a black cloth headband covering his forehead. He put one foot up on a chair and struck a pose as if looking to a distant horizon.

“Swoon! Sigh! Gasp!” Mason said. “Is your heart fluttering like mine is? It’s like a dream given flesh. Looking for someone to captain your ship? To wine and dine and sweep you off your feet? Romance! Adventure! And a smile that could knock down the Walls of Jericho! This thief of hearts always leaves ‘em begging for more! Let’s open the bidding!”

The crowd screamed like a Beatles concert whenever Shane moved. He stepped down and made love to the audience with his eyes. Every wink, every smile, every move of his hand made the crowd swoon and holler. The bidding was an absolute madhouse! Mason was barely able to keep up as paddles flew all over the crowd. $600. $700. $800! Higher and higher the bids flowed. Even as the numbers swelled, people were still holding on and bidding higher. Clearly, they had been saving up for this moment.

“$1,300 I am bid!” Mason cried. Shane wasn’t going to pass Wade’s Hail Mary bid to save Cody, but he had surpassed last year and there were still more paddles raised. “Are you people mortgaging your parents’ houses or something?” Mason joked. But he kept on calling the bids. The last competitor dropped out at $1,500, leaving the sole winner’s paddle raised in victory.

“And we have a winner!” Mason said as he banged his gavel down. “Jaquan will total the receipts later, but this year has blown every previous auction’s totals out of the water! From the bottom of our hearts, we thank you. You all came to help us when we were at our lowest, and we appreciate that more than you’ll ever know. But enough schmaltzy stuff! Let’s get to the good part! Lucky winner, come on down!!!”

A well-built man in his 30s, wearing a black suit and dark sunglasses made his way up the aisle. Definitely not a student. He stopped at Jaquan’s table, pulled a fat wad of cash from his inner jacket pocket and placed it down in front of Jaquan without even counting it. “It’s all there,” he said, before walking up the stairs.

“Um…” Mason said, slightly confused. “Are you with the feds or something?” he asked.

“Not anymore,” the man joked. “I am here because my employer could not be present for this auction and have been authorized to act on his behalf. He was very interested in this property and sent me as a proxy. Personally, I have no interest in him. But my employer does.”

“And who is your employer?” Shane asked, sounding like he already knew the answer. He flipped his hair ever so subtly, but the man remained stone-faced.

“I think you know,” is all he said. He reached into his pants pocket and fished out a pair of police-grade handcuffs. He held them up and jangled them almost tauntingly.

“A man who comes prepared!” Mason joked. “Interesting…” He looked over at Shane, who gave a slight nod that it was OK. He looked slightly annoyed. “Well, I’ll allow it. What a mystery! Clandestine Mr. Moneybags sent his attache to secure the goods? Is Shane going to end up in some billionaire’s harem somewhere? Time will tell.” The dark-suited man stepped behind Shane and took his hands in proper arrest fashion. Mason got the idea he had done this before. Many times.

“Hey there!” Shane said as the cuffs ratcheted closed. “I’m very fragile.”

“Sure you are,” the man said. He picked up a heavy bit gag from the table and jiggled it in front of Shane’s face. Shane rolled his eyes.

“Your ‘employer’ and I are going to have a long talk when…” but his words were cut off as the leather bit was gently forced behind his teeth.

“Yes no maybe so,” the man said as he buckled the gag closed behind Shane’s head. “But you aren’t going to be having a talk with anyone right now. He warned me about your witch’s voice. It’s going to be a nice, quiet ride.” The man unbuckled Shane’s swordbelt and placed the weapon on the table. “Someone can bring that home for you. Can’t bring you to meet the boss armed, can we?”

Shane gurgled something from under his gag, but Mason couldn’t make it out. The dark-suited man just chuckled as he picked up a thick black cloth bag from the table. “OK, lights out, pretty boy,” he said as he slipped the sack over Shane’s head. He fished a pair of ankle shackles from his pocket and quickly did up Shane’s booted feet. The way he was cuffed and hobbled, Mason thought he looked like he was headed for Guantanamo. But Shane had said it was OK…

The man gave Shane a gloating tap on the shoulder and escorted him down the stairs. He was firm, but oddly careful making sure Shane got down safely in his blindfolded state. “The car is waiting outside,” he said. “Let’s go loverboy…” Without complaint, Shane waddled his way to the door.

“Well, folks,” Mason said. “Looks like we’ve reached the end of the evening. Thank you all for making this TUG’s biggest night ever! Give yourself a round of applause!” The crowd clapped and cheered as Mason took a bow. He stopped, as if waiting for exit music that didn’t play, then realized no one was manning the DJ booth. He gave a small embarrassed wave and turned for the curtain. Hoss and Nate were waiting for him.
“You did good,” the big man said, shaking Mason’s hand. This was the first time he had ever spoken to Hoss outside of a group. “You hungry? I am. I could eat an elephant right now. Let’s wait for Jaquan and then go to a diner or something.”

“I’ll come,” Mason said. “But I don’t think I could eat anything. My stomach is still doing flipflops from all that out there.”

“You rocked it!” Nate said. “Totally blew me away. And you’ll love the pictures!”

“But what was that with Shane?” Mason asked. “He seemed OK with it, but it was pretty weird.”

Hoss just shook his head. “It’s OK,” he said. “I kinda figured that would happen. Don’t worry about it. What we should worry about is Cody. I got a bad feeling about this.”

---

A lone car drove entirely too quickly away from campus back to the lonely motel on the outskirts of town. Its driver fumed silently. He fumbled with the radio for a moment, then shut it off with an angry slap. “Goddamn that leather-covered asshole!” he thought. “I almost had him!!!” The driver reached into his pocket for his hip flask and took a long swig, but stopped when he noticed something on the seat next to him.

Although he had crumpled and left his program in frustration, he did hold onto his event ticket. “Wait a minute,” he thought, picking the ticket up. “I just might have another chance…” He thought back to what Brett had said before his auction.

“Halloween, huh…?”

Coming Soon: What Leo Saw 4
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Post by DeeperThanRed »

It's nice to see that Travis and Ray buried the hatchet. For a second, I was afraid that the night might go sour but all is well when you bought yourself a cute wrestler and he's into it. :D

And as usual, this chapter had some excellent fanservice. Omar's part may be my favorite as that guy is a dreamboat and the way his muscles were shared among two purchasers for two different reasons was hilarious. But it was also great to see Wade snatching up the leather cowboy Cody, Scott getting a sexy Christmas DJ job against his will, and Shane getting kidnapped for a mysterious rich fan.

The mysterious bidder at the end is worrying but TUG seemed to have high security for most of the event. They wouldn't let a brother get snatched by a bad customer right at the end... right?
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Post by blackbound »

My hope was he'd grab Jaquan instead, he's getting out of this too easily!
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Post by Volobond »

Oooh, so many story threads in this kinky tapestry! I wonder who Shane's mysterious benefactor is, and though Scott couldn't be bought by Wade, I am so glad he saved Cody - hopefully the cute cowboy pup gets held in some fun bondage rather than a sinister kidnapping! And Omar being shared by the girl and professor - absolutely wondrous!

Honestly, [mention]wataru14[/mention], I would say this was my favorite part, but literally every chapter you post is my favorite! You're an incredible writer, to keep me excited and intrigued, both for the kinky happenings AND the actual story! :D
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Post by gag1195 »

My goodness! What an amazing end to the Auction! The tense, awkward situation between Travis and Ray, the wonderful splitting of Omar, Wade swooping in to save Cody, Scott reconnecting with an old friend, and of course, the mysterious buyer for Shane! The twists, the turns, loved it!

I certainly hope we get to see/hear how the weekend goes for each of our TUG brothers! So many great little stories to tell!
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Post by KidnappedCowboy »

Dude, you are setting us up for some very sudden detour!!! :o :o :o

I loved every aspect of the auction, but I'm on the edge of my seat with this mysterious and pissed off bidder (and scratching my head to figure out who it is)!!!! :shock: :shock:
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Post by wataru14 »


What Leo Saw 3

Early Sunday afternoon, Santucci came to Leo’s private cell and opened the lock. Leo stood back as the rusty bars slid away and the burly officer waved him out into the dingy hallway. His restraints had been removed a while ago, but he was still glad to be going home. Santucci took him to the intake room and gave him back his personal belongings and street clothes, which had been stored in a plastic bin with his name on it. He wondered if his name was now in the police database as he dressed. It probably already was, he realized, but he didn’t want this prank to show up on his record as a real arrest.

It had been a rather interesting weekend for Leo. He felt like he was on one of those “Scared Straight” reality shows. A big, grandiose show had been made of his arrival, booking, and processing. Santucci later brought him prints of his mugshots. The silly snarl he was making in the pictures made Leo laugh whenever he saw it. But this time it seemed to drag on forever. He had been through the intake procedure before, so Leo knew that they were being overly dramatic about it and laying it on real thick. It took hours, when it only took a short time under normal circumstances. The interrogation room was a nice touch, though, Leo had to admit. After he had gotten his orange scrubs and was fully done up in his transport shackles, Leo was taken to a room with two chairs, a long table, and a two-way mirror on the wall. He was left alone, chained to the table, for a while until Santucci came in.

Leo almost laughed, but he knew that would be most unwise. Santucci looked like a 1970’s hardass movie cop, down to the white buttondown shirt and black tie. He even wore reflective aviator sunglasses! Leo half expected a 70’s pornstache, but Santucci didn’t have the time to grow one. But there’s no doubt he would have if he had time. And boy, did he ham it up!

“We got you, scumbag!” Santucci said, slamming a manila folder on the table in front of Leo. “We got photos, eyewitness testimony, even security camera footage! You’re going away for a long time.”

Leo fought back a smirk, but decided to play along. He found the roleplay cute and he could never resist the chance to show off.

“You got nothing, copper,” Leo said, spitting on the floor. “I want my lawyer.”

Santucci grabbed Leo by the neck and forced his face against the table. “Scum like you doesn’t get a lawyer!” he said. “You’re in my jail now and I own your punk ass!” And the two went back and forth. Santucci playing the tough-as-nails grizzled interrogator and Leo playing the defiant criminal keeping his cards close to his chest. Leo had to admit that Santucci was good at this. He never broke character once. A bit too many cliched Dirty Harry lines, but that was part of the charm of it all. And man, could he fill out that tight white dress shirt. It barely held together over his burly frame and the outline of his tank top was visible through the fabric. Leo swooned a little. He had ever only seen Santucci in his work uniform before. He knew the officer could certainly fill out his dress blues, but he never realized how handsome Santucci was until now. Leo caught his mind wandering and got his head back in the game.

Leo rattled his shackles. “You done yet, pig?” he snapped back. “I’m not telling you shit. So stop wasting our time.”

“So that’s how you want it, eh, punk?” Santucci barked. “Then I am happy to oblige.” Santucci unlocked Leo from the table and marched him out of the room, holding him by the scruff of his neck. Leo was paraded past the front desk and intake area in his full prison restraint shackles and brought to the cellblock. He expected to be placed in a special isolated cell and left to his own devices, but was quite surprised when that didn’t happen. He was brought right into the middle of the common area and stopped. Santucci began removing Leo’s ankle hobbles and waist chain, but left his hands cuffed behind his back.

“Since you won’t talk,” Santucci said. “Looks like you’re going to be my guest for a while. Hope you enjoy Genpop, punk! Sweet pretty thing like you will be real popular with the cons.” With a cackle, Santucci strutted out of the cellblock and locked the main door behind him.

“Now THIS is interesting!” Leo thought. “It’s a local precinct, not Riker’s Island, but still, there are real criminals here. And he left me among them with my hands cuffed behind my back. VERY interesting!” Leo made his way to the TV area and sat down. Two inmates glared at him and taunted him, calling him “fish” and “fresh meat.” Another person would have been petrified. But Leo, always the meta-thinker, was unable to suspend his disbelief. “There’s no way that Santucci would put me in a dangerous situation. These guys must be cops in disguise. In on the joke. Some of the people in here are probably real prisoners, but these two are plants. I’d stake my life on it.”

Now Leo had a choice to make. Did he play along or call everyone out on their bullshit? It would serve Brett right for attempting this little sham and going to such overdramatic extremes. But then he thought of Santucci and how into it he was. The big galoot looked like he was having the time of his life. It was kinda adorable. And could he really ruin that? Well, of course he could. But he wasn’t going to. He was a prankster, but he wasn’t cruel about it. Santucci wanted this too much. The thought of disappointing Santucci gave him pangs of guilt… a feeling he wasn’t used to. So he decided to go along with it.

“Hey, you two,” Leo snorted. “Leave me alone.” Leo squirmed in his cuffs, making a big show of how helpless and defenseless he was as the two burly inmates drifted over to the couch where he was sitting.

“Aw,” one of the ‘inmates’ laughed. “Is the little prag standing up for himself? Not a good idea when they left you cuffed up like that. Almost like they were giving us a present. That’s a good way to get shanked, little man.” The two inmates surrounded him and closed in. “Yup, he’s all cuffed up and defenseless. No way to stop us…” They pressed in extremely close. Leo could smell the coffee on their breath.

“Coffee?” Leo thought. “Yeah, like inmates get coffee in jail. These guys are definitely cops.” Leo tried to get up and walk away, but he was forced back down to the couch by a meaty hand on his chest. One of the two burly men started rubbing Leo’s chest and neck while the other one started removing his shoes.

“This one’s got real shoes,” the thief said. “To small for me but I can sell these real quick.” He pocketed the shoes, leaving Leo is his sock feet.

“We’re gonna make you our bitch, you little punk,” the chest-rubber snarled, pulling Leo in close. Face to face. “Make you scream all night.”

Now THAT was a little over the line, Leo thought. Would a cop really say that? And touch him like this? Leo began to think that maybe he was wrong about this being part of the ruse. If he miscalculated and his overconfidence had put him in a dangerous situation with actual hardened criminals, he shuddered at the implications. He began to squirm and struggle in his captor’s grip, but he was completely mismatched in the strength department. He was about to shout for help, but a calloused hand clamped over his mouth. “That’s it, bitch,” the man said, “I like it when you struggle…” He reached his other hand over towards Leo’s…

And then flew back off the couch and onto the floor, flat on his back. Santucci stood there, holding a baton in his hand. The man who had stolen Leo’s shoes backed away. “That’s enough, boys,” Santucci said. “Leave the new blood alone and get back to what you were doing.” Santucci gave them both a hard stare and they slinked off out of Leo’s field of vision.

“Ha!” Leo thought. “I was right! Santucci for the save!” Leo sat back and smirked. Although he had to admit, the big lug had him going for a moment there.

“You’re very lucky I came in on rounds when I did,” Santucci said. “I saved your ass. Literally. Even though a criminal punk like you doesn’t deserve it. I should have let them have their way with you to teach you a lesson. But I decided to be nice. You owe me now.”

“Oh, do I?” Leo said.

“Damn right you do,” Santucci barked. “The only thing keeping these hungry cons from your ass is my protection, and if you misbehave, I can withhold that protection. And don’t think I won’t.”

“Yes, sir!” Leo smiled. Santucci nodded in approval and uncuffed Leo.

“Now go about your business,” Santucci said. “And stay out of trouble or I’ll toss your ass into solitary.”

Leo walked over to a nearby library cart as Santucci went back outside. Leo noticed that he didn’t see his two “attackers” anymore and didn’t see them again for the rest of the weekend. “Damn, I’m good,” Leo thought as he rifled through the rack of State-approved books. “Time to dash some expectations.”

Leo didn’t know what Santucci was expecting to happen, but he guessed that it involved him cowering and hiding in fear. Keeping away from the other inmates with his head down. Leo socializing and becoming popular with the other inmates was probably not in Santucci’s script. Most of the guys were around his age, more or less, with petty offenses. So they gelled with Leo very well. Of course, everyone split up and got quiet when Santucci came around on his rounds, but otherwise, it was a pretty enjoyable. Going to the gym, playing cards, watching TV. He was actually having a good time. Like summer camp but with orange uniforms and handcuffs. And no one messed with him after Santucci’s grandiose display earlier. These guys were in here for drug possession and trespassing, not serious crimes, so there was little danger to him. And with everyone knowing Santucci was probably watching him at all times, no one would dare accost Leo.

At night, Leo would be locked in a private cell in a side wing, away from the other inmates, that he knew. Santucci wouldn’t risk giving him a cellmate, unless it was another plant. But by now he must have known Leo was on to that scheme. Leo was a little disappointed. Some of the guys were pretty cute and he could have easily gotten laid if they were bunking together. But that was not to be. Brett probably would have considered that and convinced Santucci to give Leo private accommodations as a cheeky middle finger to him. “Talk about breaking the immersion,” Leo thought. “I’ll have to pay Brett back for that.” Leo didn’t know where Brett was right now, but he hoped that whoever bought him last night had something unpleasant planned.

Leo’s clear lack of danger didn’t stop him from pushing Santucci’s buttons whenever he could, though. Far from it. He took the opportunity to mouth off to the guards, do some petty vandalism here and there, and even mess with some of the other, more unpleasant, inmates himself, confident in the fact that Santucci would sweep in and protect him if anyone took offense. And that’s exactly what happened. Santucci was always there for the save when the need arose. “He must be constantly watching me on the monitors,” Leo thought. Realizing he had a constant audience, Leo mooned the cameras whenever he had an opportunity to do so unobserved by the other prisoners. When Santucci did come in to quench something Leo did, it generally just earned him a pair of handcuffs and a trip back to the interrogation room for more roleplay. But Leo found he was enjoying that. It was pretty hot, he had to admit. He had a few run-ins with Santucci during his high-school years, but Leo had never noticed how handsome and ripped the officer was. By the second day, he was finding any excuse to have the burly Italian Adonis sweep in and take him away. It was becoming a game for him. He knew how to pull all the strings that would make Santucci come dancing to his rescue. It was cute in a way…

Santucci, however, soon grew tired of Leo’s games. He knew he was being manipulated and that Leo had guessed that everything was a setup for his benefit. He was a little disappointed that Brett’s plan wasn’t having the effect they had expected. So he decided to raise the stakes. On Saturday evening, after dragging Leo to the interrogation room for the fourth time, Santucci went off-script and changed things up. When it was time to send Leo back to Genpop, Santucci instead took something out of his briefcase. Something that made Leo raise an eyebrow.

“Since you seem to keep running your mouth so much and getting into trouble,” Santucci said. “We’re just going to take your trap out of the equation. Leo watched Santucci approaching him with the ballgag at the ready. Now that certainly wasn’t jail regulation! Leo was about to protest, but Santucci shoved the red rubber ball behind his teeth before he could make a sound. Leo rolled his eyes as Santucci buckled the gag behind his head. “And to keep you from taking it off…” Santucci said, fiddling with the straps. Leo heard the click of a tiny padlock securing the buckle closed. “There! Much better. I’m getting sick of hearing that yap of yours.”

Leo wondered how the other inmates would take his new accessory when they saw it. No matter. Even with the padlock, he’d get it off in short time. He was a pro at that sort of thing. When Santucci brought him back into the cellblock to drop him off, Leo rattled his handcuffs as if to say “OK, take these off me now.”

“Nope!” Santucci said. “Not this time. I know you can get that lock undone. That’s why the bracelets stay on for the rest of the day. That, and I don’t want to hear the maintenance guys bitch that they have to clean up more of your tags. So you can just sit like that and stew. I’ll take them off in the morning.” Santucci cackled as he left the block.

Saturday evening was considerably less fun for Leo. Unable to speak or use his hands, his options for entertainment were severely limited. He couldn’t work out. He couldn’t hold a deck of cards or a book. He couldn’t bullshit with his new jail buddies. All he could do was watch TV. And the jail content settings blocked out anything interesting. The only things they got were the local news and PBS. Leo was almost grateful when he was led to his private cell for the night.

---

Leo sat on his bunk, still cuffed and gagged, and bored out of his mind. Restrained as he was, he couldn’t do much but plan the group’s next D&D session in his head. He, Mason, and Nate were going to do session 2 mid-week and he needed to come up with things for Leofurl to do to the hapless party in their captivity. He tried to get some sleep, but was awakened around 3 a.m. by the sounds of shouting in the hall. Shouting that got closer and closer until it came through the door to the cell area. Was this part of the scene? It sure didn’t sound like it. The door to the cell area opened with a bang as Santucci entered with a rather uncompliant prisoner.

Santucci was having a rough time dragging in Clay, who was cuffed behind his back and screaming to high heaven. Leo remained in bed, pretending to be asleep. The DIX president to see his face right now would be catastrophically bad, so he turned his head to the wall and contracted under his blanket. An untrained eye wouldn’t have been able to notice anyone was in the cell. But he still listened. Before he hid, Leo saw that Clay’s shirt had been torn off him and he had a black eye. He was very VERY drunk. It was like an episode of COPS in real life.

“Settle down, Sluggo,” Santucci said as he wrangled Clay into a cell across and down from Leo’s. He was still in his “70’s hardass” getup. “I don’t care how much you’ve had to drink, you can’t go hitting people who accidentally bump you. Not in my town.”

Clay gurgled something that was no doubt extremely vulgar, but his speech was too slurred for Leo to make out.

“Big talk, little man,” Santucci said. He was one of the few people who could call Clay “little” and get away with it. Clay mumbled something about a phone call, but Santucci just laughed. “You watch too many movies, pal. Not right now, Captain Tequila. We’ll call your brother for you, but we’re not releasing you until you’ve sobered up. And you are damn lucky the other guy isn’t pressing charges. You were in town, not on campus, so your Student Discipline buddy wouldn’t be able to save your ass.” Santucci shoved Clay down on the bunk and exited the cell, locking the door behind him.

Clay howled about his cuffs, but Santucci didn’t even turn around. “Not gonna happen,” he said. “You’re too belligerent. You can just sit there in ‘em until your attitude improves.” Santucci knew Leo was awake (how could he not be with that racket?) and shot him a quick look that said “Don’t get up” while his back was to Clay. But Leo didn’t need the warning. He just nestled himself in and tried to get back to sleep. Clay was out like a light before Santucci even left the hall.

---

Early the next morning, Leo was awakened by the sound of approaching footsteps. He could hear Clay moving around across the hall, so he stayed hidden in bed, listening and pretending to still be asleep in case his neighbor was awake and not just tossing in his hangover-induced sleep. He was practically invisible, but he had a good angle to see what was going on from under his blanket. When the door opened, Santucci came in with a very angry Travis in tow. Travis had obviously just gotten out of bed, dressed in rumpled DIX sweats and his bedhead hair hidden under a backwards DIX cap. Leo got a quick look at him from his hidden position. When his eyes reached the end of Travis’ shirtsleeves, he noticed some familiar welts and indentations on his wrists. Rope marks. No way Leo would mistake those. “What was Travis up to yesterday?” Leo thought with a great deal of interest.

Santucci ran his baton over the bars, making a din that roused Clay from his stupor. “Rise and shine, asshole!”

Clay grumbled himself awake and stood up without the expected “where the hell am I?” stuff. Apparently he had enough of his faculties last night to know where he was. He stood up and glared at Santucci, who rolled his eyes and said “I’ll give you two some time to chat while I draw up your release papers” before leaving.

“Clay?” Travis said. “What the hell happened? They called me in the middle of the night and said you…”

“Don’t you say a fucking word,” Clay said, his eyes burning with anger.

“Hey, what did I do?” Travis said, taken aback. “You’re the one who got into a drunken brawl. Not me.”

“Heh,” Clay said. “Do you know why that drunken brawl started? You actually believe that bullshit about some guy bumping me?”

Travis crossed his arms over his chest. “No,” he said, even though it was a completely plausible reason, knowing his brother’s temper. “Tell me why it started.”

“Wipe that smug look off your face, bitch,” Clay scowled. “I’ll tell you. Me and the guys went to Mulcahy’s again last night and there were some guys from TKL there. They were talking about that gay-ass TUG auction the night before. Saying they bought that Bryan guy and that they were making him do all kinds of weird shit.”

Travis froze. He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t even blink.

“So then one of them drops your name,” Clay said, sensing his brother’s fear. “They said you not only went to that auction but that you spent a shit-ton of money on that jerkoff Ray. I said there was no way that my flesh and blood would EVER do that, but a bunch of other people saw you there, too, and backed him up. They said the two of you were seen off campus together all day yesterday. Is that fucking true?”

Travis couldn’t respond. “I… Uh…” He pulled his shirtsleeves down lower.

“Now THAT is interesting!” Leo thought.

“So it is true!” Clay said. He ran up to the bars of his cell. If his hands weren’t cuffed behind his back, he would have taken a swing at Travis right there. Travis took a reflexive step back as his furious brother surged at him. “I couldn’t let that asshole sully your good name like that so I decked him one. He punched back and we ended up outside beating each other’s asses. Then someone called the cops and I wound up here. I swung first… in front of witnesses like a fucking idiot… so I got locked up and he got to go home. I did that all for you and then I find out that it’s all fucking true!!!”

Travis took another step back, his face white with terror. He bumped into the bars of the cell next to Leo’s “Please just tell me you didn’t fuck him,” Clay said. “Actually, don’t tell me. I don’t want to know. Listen, Trav, you’re my brother… and I love you, man… but that only goes so far. If the other guys here about this… if Dad hears about this… I’m just going to say this once, even though I told you this already before. That shit ends NOW! If I hear that you two even looked at each other outside of that movie thing, you’re out.”

“Out?” Travis said.

“Of DIX,” Clay responded. “I’ll have you expelled from the Pledge Class. You’re my family but I can only take so much shit. And then you’ll have to deal with Dad.” Travis closed his eyes. Even hidden under the blanket, Leo could see Travis’ body language and see he was in utter turmoil. Clay stepped back into his cell. “Looks like I finally got through to you.”

At that moment, Santucci came back in holding papers. Whether he was listening to the conversation or not, Leo didn’t know, but Santucci’s demeanor wasn’t his usual jocular sarcasm. He had Travis sign the papers and then unlocked Clay’s cell. Clay came out, turned around, and jiggled his cuffs at Santucci impatiently. “Take these off me now!” he demanded. “I’m going to have my father’s lawyer look into how you treated me. Get ready for unemployment, you fucking guido.”

“Is he really going to play the Draco Malfoy card?” Leo chuckled to himself.

“Big talk, little boy” Santucci said as he released Clay from his cuffs. “But hey, if I get fired then I’m free kick your ass all the way to San Pedro and back without having an investigation being launched. You’d be doing me a fucking favor.” Clay turned, rubbing his wrists, and was about to say something in response, but when his gaze met Santucci’s he backed down real quick.

“He’ll hear about how you threatened me, too,” was all Clay could say. “Come on, Travis. Let’s get out of here.” Clay stormed off and out the door. Santucci was about to say something to Travis, but the Freshman just wandered after Clay like a zombie without even looking at him.

Santucci turned to Leo. “Sorry you had to see that,” he said. “Things have changed. We’re letting you go early. I’ll go get breakfast for you and then we’ll let you shower and leave. But still, I hope you learned something from all this.” Leo sat up on his bunk as Santucci left the cell area and went into the station after Clay and Travis.

Leo sat for a while in thought. He had never really liked Travis. Why would he? The only time they had ever interacted was the whole Spy nonsense at Bid Night. And Travis had tried to frame him! Tried to make everyone think HE was the spy!”

“It was a smart play,” Leo’s brain said. “And don’t act like you wouldn’t have done the same in his place.”

“That’s not the point!” Leo thought in response. “Anyway, that would be different!”

“Different? How?” his brain responded.

“Shut up, brain!” Leo snapped back.

As he waited for Santucci to bring him breakfast and finally release him from his cuffs and gag, Leo thought some more. Ray had said Travis was OK. Leo was especially interested in finding out the details of what happened over the weekend. And Brett positively gushed about the kid. But that could just be a show of how magnanimous he was to his disgraced enemies. Noblesse Oblige and all that. Leo wouldn’t put it past him. Shane was the seducer and manipulator, but Brett was the master of deception, after all. But a nagging feeling began to pop up, deep down at the bottom of Leo’s tiny, black heart. He felt sorry for Travis. Leo had hardly won the lottery in terms of family itself, but even his space cadet mom was better than Clay and his ogre of a dad. This guy sounded worse than the Major! But what could he do?

Suddenly, an idea sprung to mind. An idea so devious, Leo was proud of himself for coming up with it. “I’ll talk to the others first,” he thought, but I can’t bother Brett or the Seniors with it right now. The construction on the House is almost done and Brett and Scott have Halloween to coordinate. If Scott can pull himself away from his sugar daddy for five minutes. They have no time to listen. I’ll bring it up after Halloween.” He looked out the door after Travis. “If the poor kid has that much time.”

Coming Soon: Part X – A Goblin Prison, Dark and Deep
Last edited by wataru14 1 year ago, edited 1 time in total.
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Post by gag1195 »

Aw! Leo's got a little crush on Santucci! Adorable! and of course, Santucci pulled no punches in keeping the little delinquent bound and gagged! He and Brett really made sure that Leo got up to no trouble over the weekend... Now I am really looking forward Leo attempting his revenge against Brett and maybe Santucci!

Also, Leo would make an excellent Private Detective. I don't think he could/would make it as a member of the police force. Too many rules and regulations. a Private Eye however, can more easily skirt some of those pesky laws...

As for Travis, it looks like other reader's ideas were correct- it looks like he spent some time in Ray's ropes, hopefully after (or maybe during) a long talk! Now I can't wait to see what Leo has planned for Travis. Poor guy needs to get out his situation. Fast!

Looking forward to the next D&D session and hopefully more anecdotes about this weekend from the other brothers!
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Post by Wedgieboy69 »

hopefully Travis gets booted out of dix. its the kick in the butt he needs to break free from those meat heads and become a decent human being.
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Post by Guardianbound »

Leo constantly plotting something even when in bondage is strangely endearing. And looks like Travis has had a few interesting moments with Ray, looking forward to when we get to see what happened there.

It's a long shot but maybe if Travis doesn't leave DIX to join TUG, he can reform DIX from the inside?
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Post by KidnappedCowboy »

Also, Leo would make an excellent Private Detective. I don't think he could/would make it as a member of the police force. Too many rules and regulations. a Private Eye however, can more easily skirt some of those pesky laws...
I agree, [mention]gag1195[/mention], but Leo could also make a great cop in the same vein as Frank Serpico...breaking the rules but also rooting out corruption. Maybe that's what draws him to Santucci. He doesn't like the cop's swagger, but he's attracted to it nonetheless. They'd make a great team!
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Post by Volobond »

[mention]wataru14[/mention] I'm sorry for taking so long to get to this newest installment! I'm glad that Leo is finding out that there are some situations he just can't end up getting ahead of! And indeed him developing a tiny little bit of hero worship/a crush on Santucci is adorable.

Also, bad form, Clay. We all knew you sucked, but not even trying to protect your sibling from your asshole dad? Now you're just completely unworthy of any consideration. It'd probably be a boon for Travis to escape that family, but I'd much rather Clay and his stupid dad get crushed somehow...

[mention]gag1195[/mention] I'm imagining Santucci either allowing the revenge as training for him and his partner Alejandro, or perhaps teaching Leo some brutal police restraint on the cop everyone knows needs to be put in his place haha
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Post by wataru14 »


Chapter 11: A Goblin Prison, Dark and Deep

Three of the five adventurers slumped against the wall of the goblin dungeon. Heavy chains secured their wrists and ankles and iron collars around their necks kept them tethered to the walls and unable to move more than a foot away from the cold, clammy stone. All except for the halfling. He was suspended upside-down from the ceiling by chains around his ankles, his head hanging four feet off the straw-covered ground. His wrists were manacled together and connected to a D-ring embedded in the floor, stretching his tiny body nearly to its limit. The Paladin was not with them. They had tried to get some sleep when he was taken away a few hours ago, but his screams coming from a nearby chamber all night kept them too unnerved to get any rest.

The Centaur had long given up trying to pull the chains free of the wall, and the monk had not moved in several hours, saying something about “atonement” before going into a trance. The bard was still gagged – the eldritch tentacle replaced with a simple leather bit buckled behind his horned head. But the plucky Halfling still remained positive. He had been in scrapes like this before. Nothing to worry about. From his inverted perspective, he saw the dungeon door open and the barely-conscious Paladin being dragged in by goblin warriors. The leader, Leofurl, walked ahead of him. The Paladin was naked and Scuttle could see cuts and bruises all over his body. He moaned slightly as he was dragged over to a bare spot on the wall and the goblins affixed his chains.

“Looks like this one didn’t break,” Leofurl snarled. He walked over to Scuttle. His goblin height put his eyes on the same level as the inverted captive Halfling’s. “But you won’t have such resistance, will you, little one?”

“Who are you calling ‘Little One,’ gorgon breath?” Scuttle taunted. “We’re the same height, brah.” Scuttle winced as if an unseen hand punched his shoulder. “Um… we’re the same height, sirrah.”

Leofurl chuckled. “Your insolence shows great bravery,” he said. “That has earned you an extra turn on the rack. Maybe we can stretch you out a little, eh? I will look forward to finding out.” A plate of moldy bread and stale cheese was placed in the center of the room, just out of anyone’s reach. Leofurl cackled as the bard tried to seize it, his fingers falling a few scant inches short. A rat scampered in from a hole in the wall and absconded with the cheese as Shannix slumped back against the wall in defeat. The goblins left the dungeon, locking the heavy door behind them.

In the far corner, Brock groaned in pain. Everyone looked over at Shannix, urging him to throw a healing spell, but the Tiefling just pointed at his gag and shook his head dolefully. “Always bragging about your magic and now you can’t do a thing,” Hoss chortled. Brock slowly sat up and concentrated. A pale white glow surrounded him and his wounds miraculously closed up. He was still sore and bruised, but at least he was whole again.

“You’re one to talk, big man,” the cheeky Halfling said from his upside-down chains. “All that strength and you’re being held with simple chains. They way you talk you should be able to shatter them without breaking a sweat. But I don’t see that happening, do you?” Hoss flared his nostrils at the challenge to his might and grabbed the iron collar around his neck with both hands. He pulled with a strength that could fell trees, but the metal ring stayed firmly closed. In a rage, he kicked the wall with his rear legs, chipping the stone. A small shard dislodged and fell to the floor.

“Shut up, asshole,” he snorted. “Aren’t you supposed to be some kind of legendary thief? I thought you were a master at picking locks. It says you have a +8 to…” Hoss stopped short as mumbled admonishments could be heard, coming from some unseen place, over the din of the rattling chains. “Sorry,” he whispered.

“Would that I could, my equine friend,” Scuttle said. “But in my current position and without my tools, I am sadly unable to attempt to pick the locks, if only…”

“Would you idiots shut up for a second?” Danarius scoffed from his meditation. “I’m trying to get us out of here.”

“Really?” Hoss scowled. “Because it looks to me like you’re just trying to get some beauty sleep. I haven’t even seen you try to get loose since we got dragged in here. I guess those gym muscles are as useless as I’ve always said they were.”

“If you stop braying like an ass for a second and let me concentrate, you’ll see what I can do,” Danarius said, his eyes still closed. “Now shut the fuck up and let me focus.” Hoss sat back on his haunches, but said nothing. Sweat dripped from Danarius’ brow as he chanted his mantras and steeled his mind. After a few moments, the air around him began to ripple. Danarius’ body seemed to become misty. Almost transparent. The chains hovered in the air for a moment, then gravity caught up and they clanked to the ground, falling right through his body. The ghost-form of Danarius took a step to the side, out of the chains, and then he solidified. Coughing, he dropped to all fours. Drained, but free of his bonds.

“How the hell did you do that?” Brock moaned from the corner.

“It’s my special ‘Ghostface Killa’ move from my Monk Path: The Way of the Wu-Tang,” Danarius said smugly. “You’ve seen me block blows that no man should have been able to? That’s my ‘Protect Ya Neck’ technique. Those times when I unleash a flurry of blows upon my enemies? That’s my ‘Bring the Ruckus’ maneuver. You’d be surprised what you can do with a little discipline.”

Everyone looked at Danarius dumbfounded as he picked the stone shard that Hoss had dislodged up from off the floor. “Hey,” he said. “Don’t be jealous. Unlike you fools, I actually read the book and chose abilities that…” A loud crack was heard, and Danarius lurched forward as if an unseen hand slapped him upside the head. The blow was so hard his headband sailed off his head and hit the stone wall across. “OK! OK!” he said. “Fine!” After putting his headband back on, he placed the stone shard in Scuttle’s hand.

“Why don’t you just do that with the rest of us?” Scuttle asked. “Your clothes went with you, so why couldn’t we if you held on to us?”

“Because that particular move takes a lot out of me,” Danarius said. “It eats up a lot of my Ki power. I won’t be doing any more fancy tricks until we get out of here and get some proper rest.” Scuttle nodded and flipped the shard over in his nimble fingers. He jammed it into the lock on his manacles.

“Stone is a shoddy material for lockpicks,” he said. “But that’s all I’ve got to work with, I guess.” In a matter of minutes, however, Scuttle had unlocked his chains and dropped to the floor, doing an acrobatic tumblesault in mid-air. With full use of his hands, he took no time at all in freeing his companions.

Shannix ripped the gag from his mouth and hurled it against the wall. He flicked his forked tongue and spat on it. The acidic chemicals in his saliva started to burn away at the leather bit. “That would have been helpful earlier,” Brock said, rubbing his wrists and trying to maintain his balance.

“Yes, it would have,” Shannix said, smoothing down his long silky black hair. “But with my mouth otherwise occupied I wasn’t able to use that particular trait of my people. I must remember to repay May-zon for that little indignity.”

“We’ll worry about that later,” Brock said. He looked around. His companions had been stripped of all their gear, weapons, and armor. They all stood barefoot and in only their loincloths. Hoss, like Brock, was completely naked. “First we have to get out of here. We have no weapons. Shannix and Danarius will be OK as they are, but the rest of us are under a huge handicap. Scuttle, can you open the cell door?”

Scuttle had just picked the lock around Hoss’ collar when the slight clacking sound was heard. Almost like dice against a wooden table. The stone shard snapped in his hands. “No can do, boss man,” he said, tossing the broken stone to the floor. “Not with busted tools.”

“I’ll just kick it down,” Hoss said. He got into position to deliver a massive mule kick to the door, but Shannix stopped him.

“No wait!” he said. “If you do that, the noise will bring every goblin in the place down on us. We need to be more subtle. I hate to debase myself like this, but I have a much better plan.” Hoss stood down as Shannix crossed to the door and knelt down in front of the lock. She cleared his throat a few times and then spat an acidic loogie into the keyhole. A faint sizzling sound was heard and then the lock opened with a soft click. “Normally I wouldn’t stoop to something so vulgar, but these are dire circumstances. I, for one, have no desire to meet this ‘Gorm-Shazaroth’ that May-zon mentioned. Whatever it is.”

Brock nodded and silently opened the door. After looking around to make sure no sentries were in the area, he led the group out into the hall. They were at the far end of a dead-end hallway lined with heavy cell doors. There was only one way out. Scuttle held his hand up to stop the party and crept ahead, scouting to see that the coast was clear. Satisfied there were no guards, he turned back to the group, but stopped at a cell halfway down the hall. He climbed up to peek in the window and waved the others over. “Guys,” he said. “There’s something in here.”

Brock hurried over and looked past Scuttle into the murky cell. There were indeed two men in there. Both young and strikingly handsome. Both with the build and bearing of seasoned fighting men despite their young years. Each was hogtied on the floor of the cell, lying on the worn straw mat on their stomachs. Their hands were entrapped in coarse hempen ropes against the smalls of their backs and their feet were similarly bound and pulled tautly back. They were bent into an agonizing bow shape and ropes crisscrossed their chests and torsos. The ropes were painfully tight and they had abrasions on their bare flesh. Both were stripped down to their smallclothes and each had a thick wad cloth stuffed into their mouths and tied behind their heads. When they saw a humanoid face at the window, the two men began to squirm and grunt desperately through their gags.

“What’s in there?” Danarius said from the hall. “We have to keep moving!”

“There are two people in there,” Scuttle said. “And they look like they’re having an even worse time than we were.”

“Sucks for them,” Hoss snorted. “We need to get out of here and the group is big enough as it is. More people means it’s easier to get spotted.”

“I agree,” Shannix said. “And we have no idea if they’re on the level. They could be spies or goblin agents. I say we leave them and move on.” He flicked his forked tongue for emphasis.

Brock frowned. He knew his companions were right, but his code of honor wouldn’t allow him to leave two people in obvious distress. If they were enemies, the group would have to deal with that later. The lock on the door was old and rusty and came apart in Brock’s hands. Scuttle folded his arms in consternation and joined Hoss and Shannix in the hall. Only Danarius entered the cell with him.

Brock knelt down in front of the first man and removed the gag from his mouth. He was well-muscled and handsome, with hair the color of wheat ready for harvest. He had a square jaw and the scars of many battles etched into his flesh. Despite his youth, this man had seen combat. He looked up at Brock from his hogtie and said “Thank the gods! You have to let us out of here!” Brock started to reach for the man’s bonds, but Danarius stopped him.

“Before that,” he said, “First tell us who you are and what you’re doing here.” Brock gave the bound prisoner a hard stare and mumbled a small incantation. The air in the cell shimmered for a moment.

“My name is Reynard and this is my companion Codariel,” the man sputtered. His bonds were cruelly tight, cutting into his flesh as he rolled over onto his side to get a better look at Brock. “We were guarding a royal carriage when we fell into a goblin trap. As far as I know, we are the only survivors.”

Danarius looked at Brock, who slowly nodded. Shannix then came into the cell, as well. “Didn’t need magic for that,” he said. “I can always tell when someone’s lying and I don’t think this one’s capable of it. He’s almost as noble as you, Brock.” Brock chuckled at this. “Such disgusting purity. It’s rather sickening.”

“I am no Paladin,” Reynard said from his prone position on the floor. “I’m a fighting man. And my companion is both a Druid and a Ranger. Please, let us loose. The goblins said that tomorrow morning we are to be fed to some sort of beast called Gorm-Sassafras? Glam-Scheherazade? Gimp-Razzamatazz? Something like that.”

Hoss rolled his eyes from the hallway and Scuttle pointed at his wrist and tapped his feet. Brock waved them off. “We just can’t leave you to that sad fate,” he said, and knelt down to free Reynard. The mighty warrior gave a sigh of relief as the ropes connecting his ankles to his wrists were unwound and his body could return to a somewhat normal position. But Brock had some difficulty undoing the knots around Reynard’s wrists. “Damn these green beasts and their tiny fingers!” he said. “They have a fiend’s dexterity…. no offense, Shannix. This will take some doing.”

Shannix flicked his forked tongue at Brock and walked over to where Codariel lay. “I’ll fetch this one I suppose,” he said. “And I’ll show you how dexterous a fiend can be.” He took a step towards the prone and bound form of Codariel. Danarius reached out to grab him, but was a moment too late.

As Shannix moved within five feet of the captive, the air flashed a sickening purple color and he was thrown backwards with great force. Hoss managed to catch him before he collided with the wall. “Damn!” Shannix said, brushing himself off. “There must be some kind of enchantment. A barrier. You, fighting man? Is your companion an elf?”

“Half-elven,” Reynard said as Brock laboriously picked away at the elaborate knot that held his wrists behind his back.

“I see,” Shannix said. “May-zon took extra precautions with this one. A barrier that repels anyone of celestial, fiendish, or fey origins. Brock and Hoss would be unable to pass it, as well. I’ll try to dispel it, but I cannot go in to untie him. Scuttle or Danarius must do it.” Scuttle said no words, but just pointed at the door impatiently.

“Since Short-Stuff AGAIN can’t be bothered to use his Rogue skills, I’ll do it,” Danarius said. The barrier shimmered as he passed through, but did not bar him. Shannix began to prepare some sort of magic ritual as Danarius started to untie Codariel. The man was clearly young, but it was always difficult to tell how old those with Elven blood were. He, like his companion, was strikingly handsome, but bore the signs of one who has lived long in the wilderness and survived off the land. His muscles were not as bulky as the fighting man’s but wiry and almost equally as strong. He had Druidic brands and tattoos here and there on his body, but Danarius didn’t understand what the Runes meant. The half-elf also didn’t seem to share his companion’s sense of dread. “Well, you seem calm for one that was about to be fed to an unholy beast,” Danarius said, pulling the rancid cloth gag from the Ranger’s mouth.

“I knew someone would be along sooner or later,” he said with a wry smile. “The rats told me that some more people were brought in and I had a good feeling about you guys. Looks like I was right.”

“You seem pretty nonplussed about this whole thing,” Danarius chuckled as he began to undo the ropes that bound Codariel.

“It’s not the first time I’ve been captured by goblins,” Codariel smiled. “Although I will say this batch is better with bindings than others have been. I can usually escape on my own, but I must admit I’ve been having difficulty with this one. The magic circle is a nice touch, though. But I’ve learned that things tend to work out as they should if you stay positive.” Danarius rolled his eyes and started working on the knots.

Shannix chanted a few words and the air around Codariel shimmered for a moment. “There,” he said. “I’ve dispelled it. But I hope these two are worth it. I don’t have much magic left and it would be a shame if I can’t help out later because I wasted my juju on this.”

Brock finally managed to remove the last of the ropes that secured Reynard. The young Fighter stood up and rubbed his wrists, raw and cracked from the coarse hempen ropes that had imprisoned him. The sodden rag that was formerly stuffed in his mouth hung limply around his neck. A few feet away, Danarius had similarly freed Codariel, and the young Ranger sprang to his feet in an athletic manner. He put his hand forward to where the barrier was and smiled as it passed through unobstructed. He stepped forward and shook Brock’s hand.

“Thanks,” he said. “We owe you. For the time being, at least, we will fight beside you.”

“But we have no weapons,” Scuttle said. “A fat lot of good you two will be.”

“We don’t need weapons,” Codariel said. “I have a little magic, and besides that, the beasts are my friends. I can summon their aid if need be.”

“But only until we get out of this encampment,” Reynard said. “The Prince was taken and we cannot leave him. We must rescue him as well. With or without you all.”

“Prince?” Scuttle said, dollar signs flashing in his eyes. Shannix looked at him strangely. He got the suspicion that Scuttle was responding to some sort of cue.

“Yes,” Reynard said. “Prince Travelyn. We were escorting him when the carriage was ambushed. He was their main target. They carried him off to the Castle of Dix.”

“Castle of Dicks?” Hoss laughed. “Sounds like your kind of place, Sco… Scuttle.”

“Ha ha ha, Mr. Pot” Scuttle said dryly. “But I have heard of that place. Tough to break into. Buuuut… Well worth it. A rescued prince will fetch a hefty reward from the king. I think we have the time for a detour. Once we get out of here, that is.”

The rest of the party was shocked by Scuttle’s words. They felt that there was something hidden behind them, but it was always hard to tell what the canny rogue was thinking. But Hoss and Shannix agreed with him. If the potential for a reward was there, of course they would be all in. Brock was unsure, but his Paladin code again would not let him leave an innocent in danger. Only Danarius protested, but he was outvoted. Grudgingly, he acquiesced to the rescue. Reynard and Codariel exchanged a quick smile, unseen by anyone but Scuttle.

“Thank you, kind sirs,” Codariel said. “But we must make haste. Who knows what they’ll do to him if we don’t hurry?”

The group cautiously made their way out of the dungeon and into a corridor made of rough-hewn stone. Codariel asked the rats which way it was to the exit, and the furry creatures directed him west, saying there was a large cavern that had a tunnel to the surface. But they warned that it would be well guarded. Hoss snorted as the rats scampered away. “There are seven of us now,” he said. “More than enough to take out a goblin patrol.”

“We thought that before,” Brock said. “And look what happened.”

“I doubt Leofurl and May-zon will be guarding an isolated tunnel,” Shannix said. “They were the only problems. The other fodder was easy for us.”

“If you say so,” Brock said, unconvinced.

The group made their way down the corridor, passing piles of goblin bones here and there. “That’s not very encouraging,” Scuttle said, picking up a femur. “You’d think they’d at least clean up after themselves.” He idly tossed the bone away as they approached the cavern entrance. As the tunnel widened, he and Codariel took point and moved ahead to scout while the others stayed behind. The cavern seemed empty, save for the stalactites and stalagmites and a shallow pool of stagnant water. A few of the stone outcroppings were a slightly different color and texture than the others. A soft clacking sound was faintly heard, followed by a low chuckle from an unseen voice. But no one in the party noticed it.

“This way,” Codariel said. “I see the exit!” He bounded up the rocks towards the crack in the upper wall that was letting in fresh air and a beam of sunlight. But before he could make it fully up, something slithered out of the darkness and grabbed his ankle. Codariel looked down and saw a thick gray tentacle wrapping around his leg. It quickly pulled him back down and snaked its way up his body before he could react. It was cold and clammy, like stone, but alive. Codariel vainly tried to pry it loose, but it just wrapped itself tighter and further up his legs, pinning them together as it dragged him down the rock incline. Another tentacle trapped his hands together in front of him. “Roper!” he cried, but it was too late.

Three of the stalagmites began to move. Evil red eyes and huge gaping mouths opened up from their bases, filled with teeth like jagged quartz crystals. Tentacles flew from their sides and hurdled towards the surprised escapees. Danarius, Brock, and Reynard were grabbed immediately. The strong appendages wrapped around their chests, pinning their arms uselessly to their sides and lifting them up off the ground. They were being slowly pulled towards the creatures’ toothy maws. Shannix ducked behind a boulder as Scuttle skillfully evaded the whirling snares and dove behind a rock pillar. Hoss grabbed the one that came for him before it could ensnare him and they were locked in a battle of might.

---

“And we’ll stop there for tonight,” Nate said, closing his book.

“So what do you two think?” Leo said to Ray and Cody, who were collecting their dice. “Fun, right? I told you so.”

“It’s a lot of fun!” Cody said, fanning himself with his cowboy hat. “I’m sorry I doubted you.” Ray agreed. Danny and Shane, however, exchanged suspicious looks.

“Hey,” Danny said. “Where did that whole ‘prince’ thing come from. Seems kinda random.”

The Freshmen froze in their tracks, But Nate recovered quickly. “I needed a hook to get the two new players in,” he said. “I figured I’d give them a pressing story arc.”

“And it gives us a chance to try out some new maps,” Mason added quickly.

Shane smiled. “Oh, I don’t think it’s random,” he said, patting Danny on the back. “I think our three GMs have something very specific in mind. But let’s not press them on it. It will ruin the surprise.”

“Besides,” Brett said to the pledges. “It’s going to be a bit before we can play again. I’ve already told the Sophomores and Juniors, but the rest of you will be happy to hear that the house remodel is finally complete. Danny and I got the certificate of occupancy and the clearance from the university to move in today. And you know what that means…” He flashed a wolfish grin, which was taken up by the other Seniors, as well.

“It means our five pledges are going to have a lot of work on their schedules this weekend and after classes next week,” Shane chuckled. “Furniture and décor don’t just move themselves in, you know.” The pledges groaned.

“Wade’s special custom items will be arriving first,” Brett said. “So we can get them out of the way when the delivery trucks arrive. And just between us, the insurance settlement was pretty hefty. So I went all out in the furniture department. All solid wood and VERY heavy. So you boys should get to bed early and eat your Wheaties tomorrow. I want the place perfect for Halloween.”

“And I have a real banger planned for this year,” Scott said as he gathered up his books and papers. “It’s going to be one for the record books.”

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

It's very ambitious having so many players at the table, but I guess it's easier to manage with three DMs! I applaud the seniors' and their strategizing, and their ability to mostly stay in character! I also appreciate these goblins that clearly know their restraints, and how important it is to keep prisoner magic users securely gagged!

It's also very ambitious to attempt to persuade the seniors to help Travis via the D&D session. I suspect most of them were probably already considering similar things, especially Brett, so it will be interesting to see how things shake out!

Especially with Halloween right around the corner! Can't wait to see the triumphant return of TUG in its full glory! Any word yet on costume choices? I remember a few suggestions I wouldn't mind seeing!
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Post by wataru14 »

gag1195 wrote: 1 year ago Especially with Halloween right around the corner! Can't wait to see the triumphant return of TUG in its full glory! Any word yet on costume choices? I remember a few suggestions I wouldn't mind seeing!
Costumes will be revealed at the party. And I got some very cool suggestions. I will be incorporating several of them.
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Post by gag1195 »

wataru14 wrote: 1 year ago Costumes will be revealed at the party. And I got some very cool suggestions. I will be incorporating several of them.
I can't wait to see what you've come up with and what costume suggestions you're incorporating!
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Post by Wedgieboy69 »

I wonder if it will be a group theme costume? or separate individual costumes for the boys?
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Post by DeeperThanRed »

I love the fantasy/DnD setting and you used it really well here. It's easy to be swept by the exciting adventure but the characters' voices are so distinct that they keep coming through the roles they play.

I can't wait to see the Halloween episode. If the auction is anything to go by, I expect a lot of, let's say, interesting costume choices. 8-)
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Post by Guardianbound »

The characters fit so well into their D&D personas. Can't wait for the Halloween chapter and the creative costumes you come up with
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Post by Volobond »

I always love a good D&D Interlude! And interesting to see Leo work the current struggles into his campaign. I enjoyed how the DMs' struggle ro get their players to maintain character manifested.

And Halloween! I can't wait!
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Post by KidnappedCowboy »

Always love stories within stories. They are a projection of the hopes and fears of characters.

[mention]wataru14[/mention], you wrote a fine intermezzo here. I'm not all that familiar with D&Ds, but if it has hot guys rolling around tied up in a dungeon, I'm in! :twisted:
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Post by Carnath »

A still very compelling story, very well written!
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Post by Bootmark »

Love the story. I have to admit Cody is my favorite and can't wait for him to be tied up again!
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Post by wataru14 »

Bootmark wrote: 1 year ago Love the story. I have to admit Cody is my favorite and can't wait for him to be tied up again!
Just wait for Halloween.
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