Stories of Tie Up Games

I can't wait for an update. I was just thinking about this story yesterday

[mention]Wedgieboy69[/mention]
That's great to hear, my friend. Keep in mind that you can message me any time if you have ideas/requests/things you'd like to see. As long as it doesn't break the plot I'm working towards, I'm actually quite flexible and regularly make it a point of fulfilling special requests.

In short, if you'd like to see something or would like more involvement from a specific character, do let me know. I'm all ears!

The stench of Eric's discarded socks and shoes was undoubtedly quite poignant, but it's only when the downright cheesiest of smells began permeating my vulnerable nostrils and overtaking the already strong fumes escaping from the footwear sprawled around me that I was made privy to its frightening potency.

The blue-eyed heartthrob's sneakers were deceptively good-looking, but his stubby hole-ridden socks looked like absolute trash. The sheer amount of crap poking out from in between his sweaty toes left little doubt as to the exorbitant quantity of lint balls inhabiting his moist ankle socks.

Dad, of course, paid no heed to the offensive smell. He simply squatted down, grabbed both socks, crumpled them up into a sizeable ball and teasingly pressed them over Eric's defenceless nose before letting out a deep chuckle and ruffling the bound and gagged prisoner's dishevelled hair up.

Eric and I watched as the hulking fire marshal entered the frenzy once more. We watched as his downright gargantuan puffer-clad form commandingly buried itself into the ranks of his burly colleagues, and we watched as he disappeared into the melee; with a roll of duct tape in one hand and the vanquished firetruck technician's puke-worthy socks in the other.


A flurry of uninterrupted jeers and virulent insults continued flowing out of Sergei's combative mouth, that is...until his cries were abruptly cut off and drowned out by a sea of raucous laughter. The poor man let out a very panicked yelp as the sweltering ball of indescribably putrescent socks made an unwelcomed appearance. Though I couldn't quite see his face due to the number of impossibly broad torsos jostling around for a better place inside the melee, the sounds coming from that side of the abode painted quite a vivid picture.

Sergei screamed in an audibly desperate attempt at letting his captors know he didn't want Eric's disease-ridden fucks going anywhere near his mouth, but his vehement protests proved of little use against the plurality of thick palms and fingers that mercilessly converged on his undefendable face.

The bearded strongman's uncooperative jaw was brutishly pried open, allowing for the steaming hot mess of toe cheese-infested socks to be forcibly rammed in and introduced inside his yapper.

"There, that'll keep you quiet." one of the men spoke, the rest of the tent's occupants doubling over with laughter as dad's immensely girthy arms raced to wrap unending orbits of sticky duct tape around poor Sergei's sock-stuffed face.



It's only when the tape was severed and the throng of assembled leviathans started dispersing that I was afforded an unobstructed view of the rambunctious muscleman's harrowing demise. Not only were his wrists and ankles restrained by a seemingly infinite number of adhesive revolutions, but his body was arched backwards into an even stricter hogtie than that which was imposed on Eric!

My eyes dawned across his incapacitated limbs for a bit, but it was definitely his face which garnered most of my - and everyone else's - attention.

Sergei's facial cavity - which was normally quite loud - had been packed to the brim and stuffed full with speech-preventing fabric. With the defeated dilf's angry face sealed shut beneath crisscrossing revolutions of uber sticky duct tape, the only clue as to the stuffing's identity came in the form of heartwrenching screams and signs of unspeakable revulsion.

Dad and the rest of my tentmates doubled over with laughter at the sight of their rowdy colleague's unmistakably panicked face, and even Eric could be seen chuckling with glee from beneath Chad's big ball of toe-scented ankle socks.


In the seconds that followed, the European strongman's rage grew noticeably more obvious. He was quite masterful in dishing out such torments but not nearly as competent in enduring them himself. His eyes darted wildly across the well-lit abode; shooting daggers at those who'd participated in his downfall and casting a particularly hateful gaze towards those currently mocking his predicament. Though Eric's mouth had also been stuffed with socks and preventatively sealed shut via numerous revolutions of tape, the sound of his heavily muffled laughter could be heard from all the way across the tent.

Much to Sergei's eternal frustration, the handsome man whose diseased socks he was being forced to suck on appeared to be enjoying this as much as everyone else. Even more insulting was the fact that Eric appeared to be taunting him!


"Mmggh ugghh phhggh!" the blue-eyed heartthrob cheered; a clear spark of amusement lighting his sapphire-coloured eyes as he mouthed off a series of hearty taunts and indecipherable jabs.

Even as Chad slowly made his way towards my hopelessly sleeping-bagged and very much gurney-bound form, I watched with unbridled interest as Sergei shook his head in great frustration and tried in vain to tell his fellow prisoner off. Everyone laughed as the two captives went at it; the bearded strongman's hogtaped body growing more agitated by the second as his slightly younger, foul-footed counterpart chuckled with glee and filled the tent with muffled laughter.

"Uggh mpphh pggh uggh...ggmmp pphhmg pphhhk!" Sergei screamed, to which his less boisterous companion just laughed, laughed and laughed some more.

"Mppphhh phhh phhh! Mpphhh phhh phhh!"



Just when I thought things couldn't get any hotter, Frank's tremendously oversized frame slowly broke away from the throng of jeering spectators and took position between the bickering captives. The heavily distressed layer of leather coating his large hands and exceptionally mountainous torso creaked unendingly as he squatted down in front of Sergei's angry face and grabbed the roll of duct tape that was left lying on the tent floor.

Imagine my utter disbelief when, instead of reinforcing the screaming man's already-excessive gag, my burly godfather reached for one of Eric's discarded runners and pulled its tongue flap back before trying to plaster the cursed shoe's gaping maw to poor Sergei's visibly panicked face. In his own defence, the combative muscle-dilf managed to hold his own for a while...most notably by shaking his head from side to side and going batshit crazy beneath his gag.

Unfortunately for Sergei, as soon as the excitable throng understood what Frank was trying to do, uncle Robert and several others broke rank and jumped in to help immobilise the uncooperative victim's head.

My vision of the exciting spectacle was temporarily obstructed as soon as their broad-shouldered frames closed in around the defenceless prisoner, but the ecstatic laughter and the sound of roaring duct tape quickly alerted me of Sergei's increasingly harrowing demise.

Everyone laughed and cheered them on, but it's only when Frank and his heavy-handed cohorts stepped back to reveal a cross-eyed Sergei lying hogtied on the floor with his gagged face nuzzled deep inside Eric's shoe that the ambient noise levels reached new heights and reigned supreme over the secluded campsite.


And to think that only two days ago dad practically had to coerce me into joining him on what I assumed would be an uneventful venture...

Very hot! Glad to see it continued! Poor Sergei... would hate to be in his place

I live how Eric still gets in on the taunting himself even tied up and gagged himself

Wonder who gets some tasty socks next!

[mention]bondagefreak[/mention] Another amazing chapter . The sock and shoe sniffing sounds so HOT .

This chapter is a lot better than I thought it would be! To see one's own super hot Godfather a worn out shoe to a hogtaped victim's face must be outstanding! Not to mention the fact that the father was responsible of gagging the mentioned victim...

If only I could turn this story into reality...

Finally nice to see the behemoth Sergei taken down and joining Ethan and Eric in these rough housing games. Even more enjoyable that not only Sergei has the pleasure to chew on his socks, but to enjoy the stretch of Eric's shoes. Ethan, you should be grateful of not enduring that, but enjoy your sleeping bags and gurney straps.

Nice work again after a long break, [mention]bondagefreak[/mention]!
Anxious to know what happens next for our captured protagonist.

I love the contrast between the victims.

one is angry and filled with rage toward his tormentors. no doubt set on revenge and payback.

the second is taking it all in stride. even mocking the other victim who is in a similar situation to his own.

the third is just quietly off in the corner, not making a sound. nit attracting any attention. just trying to take it all in.

what one would you be?

I know I would be Sergei. I hate not being in control, and would be losing my shit about now.

Duct tape gags and smelly socks, oh God please more!!!

Hahaha, finally Sergei has been vanquished and rendered utterly helpless in the hands of this posse of powerhouses! It's hilarious to see his fellow gagged captive mocking him. As for young Ethan... I doubt his, ahem, clear enjoyment of the situation can be hidden much longer.

Great chapter! Many unexpected things are happening on this camping ground. Love how mouthy Sergei got gagged with those socks from another victim.

[mention]bondagefreak[/mention] you never disappoint!

H-O-T chapter! I especially enjoyed how Eric participated in Sergei's demise, not directly but transitive via his stench Eric is so enjoying that he forgot that he too was gnawing on some stinkers himself

I think the possibilities on this trip are endless.... my mind is going in circles....

So much action is happening that all the attention is away from Ethan...temporarily I highly suspect. I can't wait for Sergei's revenge plot...

Can I say how much I am living for this story right now? Because I totally am.

Sergei was made to be bound and gagged! He's such a fighter, that the bonds become necessary, and hes so loud that he is perfect for intense gags! I certainly hope they keep him just as restrained as Ethan for most of the trip. He needs to calm down, and I'm sure that Ethan won't complain with the captive company!

Great update- this is just what I needed after an intense few days!

Another great chapter. Sergei has definitely been taken down a peg or two but I like the fact that he went down fighting - it made his plight worse!

The delight the bound and gagged Eric takes in Sergei's predicament is brilliant. He still gets to play a part in tormenting Sergei even though his hands are tied. He'd better hope he gets free before Sergei.

Ethen seems to be keeping out of trouble. I like the way his view of proceedings keeps getting interrupted by the surging tides of over-muscled masculinity.

Great chapter! Master [mention]bondagefreak[/mention] has yet again opened his box of writing skills and charms and made us privy to their full power. And what power!

I have to say, with Eric and Sergei joining Ethan as bound and gagged mummies (and hogtied mummies at that!) I can only wonder if the remaining guys will go against each other until only one will remain standing (and ungagged too!)
If that were to happen, I must confess I wouldn't be that mad to see my favourite of the hunks, Robert, at any of the ends of the bondage stick! So either tie him up, or let him finally take revenge on his older, tauntingly foot plagued, brother; I'm in! (<----the humble opinion/fantasy of a horny sub)

Poor Sergei, hot there are 3 prisoners now wish i was the son of Sergei as im a europian to though more west (netherlands)… thank u Sir for a other hot chapter

bondagefreak wrote: ↑1 year ago

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CHAPTER 19
THE STRONGMAN'S DOWNFALL

The stench of Eric's discarded socks and shoes was undoubtedly quite poignant, but it's only when the downright cheesiest of smells began permeating my vulnerable nostrils and overtaking the already strong fumes escaping from the footwear sprawled around me that I was made privy to its frightening potency.

The blue-eyed heartthrob's sneakers were deceptively good-looking, but his stubby hole-ridden socks looked like absolute trash. The sheer amount of crap poking out from in between his sweaty toes left little doubt as to the exorbitant quantity of lint balls inhabiting his moist ankle socks.

Dad, of course, paid no heed to the offensive smell. He simply squatted down, grabbed both socks, crumpled them up into a sizeable ball and teasingly pressed them over Eric's defenceless nose before letting out a deep chuckle and ruffling the bound and gagged prisoner's dishevelled hair up.

Eric and I watched as the hulking fire marshal entered the frenzy once more. We watched as his downright gargantuan puffer-clad form commandingly buried itself into the ranks of his burly colleagues, and we watched as he disappeared into the melee; with a roll of duct tape in one hand and the vanquished firetruck technician's puke-worthy socks in the other.


A flurry of uninterrupted jeers and virulent insults continued flowing out of Sergei's combative mouth, that is...until his cries were abruptly cut off and drowned out by a sea of raucous laughter. The poor man let out a very panicked yelp as the sweltering ball of indescribably putrescent socks made an unwelcomed appearance. Though I couldn't quite see his face due to the number of impossibly broad torsos jostling around for a better place inside the melee, the sounds coming from that side of the abode painted quite a vivid picture.

Sergei screamed in an audibly desperate attempt at letting his captors know he didn't want Eric's disease-ridden fucks going anywhere near his mouth, but his vehement protests proved of little use against the plurality of thick palms and fingers that mercilessly converged on his undefendable face.

The bearded strongman's uncooperative jaw was brutishly pried open, allowing for the steaming hot mess of toe cheese-infested socks to be forcibly rammed in and introduced inside his yapper.

"There, that'll keep you quiet." one of the men spoke, the rest of the tent's occupants doubling over with laughter as dad's immensely girthy arms raced to wrap unending orbits of sticky duct tape around poor Sergei's sock-stuffed face.



It's only when the tape was severed and the throng of assembled leviathans started dispersing that I was afforded an unobstructed view of the rambunctious muscleman's harrowing demise. Not only were his wrists and ankles restrained by a seemingly infinite number of adhesive revolutions, but his body was arched backwards into an even stricter hogtie than that which was imposed on Eric!

My eyes dawned across his incapacitated limbs for a bit, but it was definitely his face which garnered most of my - and everyone else's - attention.

Sergei's facial cavity - which was normally quite loud - had been packed to the brim and stuffed full with speech-preventing fabric. With the defeated dilf's angry face sealed shut beneath crisscrossing revolutions of uber sticky duct tape, the only clue as to the stuffing's identity came in the form of heartwrenching screams and signs of unspeakable revulsion.

Dad and the rest of my tentmates doubled over with laughter at the sight of their rowdy colleague's unmistakably panicked face, and even Eric could be seen chuckling with glee from beneath Chad's big ball of toe-scented ankle socks.


In the seconds that followed, the European strongman's rage grew noticeably more obvious. He was quite masterful in dishing out such torments but not nearly as competent in enduring them himself. His eyes darted wildly across the well-lit abode; shooting daggers at those who'd participated in his downfall and casting a particularly hateful gaze towards those currently mocking his predicament. Though Eric's mouth had also been stuffed with socks and preventatively sealed shut via numerous revolutions of tape, the sound of his heavily muffled laughter could be heard from all the way across the tent.

Much to Sergei's eternal frustration, the handsome man whose diseased socks he was being forced to suck on appeared to be enjoying this as much as everyone else. Even more insulting was the fact that Eric appeared to be taunting him!


"Mmggh ugghh phhggh!" the blue-eyed heartthrob cheered; a clear spark of amusement lighting his sapphire-coloured eyes as he mouthed off a series of hearty taunts and indecipherable jabs.

Even as Chad slowly made his way towards my hopelessly sleeping-bagged and very much gurney-bound form, I watched with unbridled interest as Sergei shook his head in great frustration and tried in vain to tell his fellow prisoner off. Everyone laughed as the two captives went at it; the bearded strongman's hogtaped body growing more agitated by the second as his slightly younger, foul-footed counterpart chuckled with glee and filled the tent with muffled laughter.

"Uggh mpphh pggh uggh...ggmmp pphhmg pphhhk!" Sergei screamed, to which his less boisterous companion just laughed, laughed and laughed some more.

"Mppphhh phhh phhh! Mpphhh phhh phhh!"



Just when I thought things couldn't get any hotter, Frank's tremendously oversized frame slowly broke away from the throng of jeering spectators and took position between the bickering captives. The heavily distressed layer of leather coating his large hands and exceptionally mountainous torso creaked unendingly as he squatted down in front of Sergei's angry face and grabbed the roll of duct tape that was left lying on the tent floor.

Imagine my utter disbelief when, instead of reinforcing the screaming man's already-excessive gag, my burly godfather reached for one of Eric's discarded runners and pulled its tongue flap back before trying to plaster the cursed shoe's gaping maw to poor Sergei's visibly panicked face. In his own defence, the combative muscle-dilf managed to hold his own for a while...most notably by shaking his head from side to side and going batshit crazy beneath his gag.

Unfortunately for Sergei, as soon as the excitable throng understood what Frank was trying to do, uncle Robert and several others broke rank and jumped in to help immobilise the uncooperative victim's head.

My vision of the exciting spectacle was temporarily obstructed as soon as their broad-shouldered frames closed in around the defenceless prisoner, but the ecstatic laughter and the sound of roaring duct tape quickly alerted me of Sergei's increasingly harrowing demise.

Everyone laughed and cheered them on, but it's only when Frank and his heavy-handed cohorts stepped back to reveal a cross-eyed Sergei lying hogtied on the floor with his gagged face nuzzled deep inside Eric's shoe that the ambient noise levels reached new heights and reigned supreme over the secluded campsite.


And to think that only two days ago dad practically had to coerce me into joining him on what I assumed would be an uneventful venture...

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Sorry if this reply came out weird cos im really new to this but i've been a long time lurker but decided i'd join cos why not. Anyway, as a bondage and foot fan, I just love your stories. They're so hot and I can't wait to see how this turns out. So far, this has been favourite series along with the 36 hours story. Anyway before i forget, Hi to everyone lol

Hadn't caught up with this story in a while and good to see it's still going strong

And so there I was, strapped down to this godforsaken medical gurney like some dangerous crime lord in a maximum security prison, zipped up inside an unfathomably thick cocoon composed of two antarctic-grade sleeping bags, and muzzled up so fiercely that even my most valiant attempts at calling out for help ended up coming out as nothing but a faint whimper.

With only my gagged face exposed and the mindboggling number of thick security restraints creating a dizzying web of crisscrossing creases atop my unbelievably bulbous form, I was left with no other recourse than to observe the throng of boisterous musclemen and suffer the annoyingly unpleasant scent of their discarded footwear.

The laughing, roaring and cheering ensemble of broad-shouldered goliaths kept on unwittingly pushing the sturdy abode's structural integrity beyond its designed capacity. The discordant orchestra of their incessantly creaking gloves and jackets continued unabated as burps, farts, cheers and jeers filled the night air; dominating the entire campsite and resonating across the otherwise tranquil landscape.


I could only lie there, utterly helpless and positively throbbing as Sergei fought and struggled against the freakishly severe tape job keeping his powerful body hogtied. Eric's stubby pair of lint-ridden stinkers did a phenomenal job at keeping the angry strongman's vehement protests in check, and no amount of screaming or cursing would help free his lower face from the seemingly endless revolutions of sticky duct tape my father had mercilessly spun around it.

Unfortunately for mighty Sergei, his harrowing plight didn't stop there. Not only was his normally outspoken orifice left to contend with the infernally ripe wads that were peeled off from Eric's soles, but his unquestionably horrified face soon found itself swallowed up and sealed inside one of the blue-eyed heartthrob's deceptively good-looking trainers; the smell of which - judging from his unending screams and frenzied struggling - didn't agree with him in the slightest!





Everyone laughed at the cocky European man's overlapping bouts of increasing misfortune. Even Eric - who was similarly bound and gagged with Chad's ratty old ankle socks - laughed, taking special delight in watching the older hunk suffer the stench of his supremely strong-smelling footwear.

I was, as you probably expect, extremely aroused and unashamedly mesmerised by the entire exchange. The bizarrely addictive feelings I experienced whenever I watched internet videos featuring guys being forcefully taken down and restrained against their will paled in comparison to the thrill that filled me up as I watched Eric and Sergei being manhandled and taped up. A thrilling mixture of lust, envy and sympathy were my constant companions as the scene dawned before my eyes.

I would get to experience that same rush multiple times before the end of our little trip, but the one thing I didn't expect to face was the somewhat unsettling combination of feelings that overtook me as a result of witnessing dad's quintessential role in that night's heavy-handed takedowns.


Eric was tall and well-built by any standard, but words can't even begin to describe the sheer awe that coursed through my veins as the rowdy men focused all their attention on Sergei and left my father in charge of disabling the more cooperative blue-eyed heartthrob.

A look of stern determination covered the buff fire marshal's normally cheery face, and I could only lie there and look on with envy and pride as his huge leather glove-clad hands worked the mighty roll of fibrous duct tape around the younger man's defeated torso.

Dad's already intimidating frame was rendered even more formidable and imposing because of the downright colossal puffer jacket adorning his muscular torso. Beads of sweat ran down his temples as the tree trunk-sized arms that sprouted from both sides of his broad chest laboured tirelessly; his maddeningly bulbous jacket's glossy nylon shell swooshing rather noisily as a result of his seemingly limitless, duty-driven efforts.

Watching the thirty-something-year-old stud just lying there, utterly defeated beneath my fearsomely buff-bodied father's mesmerisingly massive frame...it did something to me. In that moment, I knew with utmost certainty that I envied Eric's position. The idea of being bound up by my own father was both unsettling and a little unsavoury, and yet, at that very moment, I wanted to be underneath him. I wanted those huge hands working on me and I wanted his giant arms and muscles holding me down and keeping me restrained. It shames me to admit this, dear friends, but I envied Eric's position and found myself wanting to be dad's prisoner.





The embarrassing thoughts that momentarily crossed my mind ended up culminating into nothing less than full fledged desire as the burly fire marshall placed a gloved hand behind his cooperative captive's head and authoritatively ordered him to surrender his mouth and spread his lips apart.

I must've gone over that moment a thousand times in my head, and though it troubles me greatly to admit this, I would've probably accepted Chad's crumpled-up stinkers even more readily than Eric had, had I been the one under dad's immediate control that fateful evening. I would've taken whatever gag he'd deemed fit to fill my mouth with and I would've opened wide and sucked on it even more zealously than I had my brother's socks.

In any case, those unsettling thoughts and my momentary desire for being under my own father's direct control took a figurative backseat when Chad slowly made a return towards my gurney-bound form and resumed taking advantage of my irrefutable helplessness.



At first, the jumbo-limbed oaf limited himself to just pinching my nostrils shut and fooling around with my breathing. But things grew increasingly direr when his dreadfully stinky shoe paid another visit to my face. Chad's shoes weren't quite as bad as Andrew's, but they were still highly unpleasant to sample and understandably revolting to sniff up.

I cried out and whimpered beneath my thick sponge gag, but the smooth-headed tyrant simply chuckled and clamped the oversized sneaker down a little harder. I, at one point, successfully shook my head violently enough to work my face out from inside its musty chasm, but my crazed attempts at garnering dad's attention failed to make it through the cacophony of ambient cheering. Everyone was too busy laughing at Sergei's angry struggling, and some of the other men were apparently in the process of forcing Eric to sniff up the potent odour permeating the inside of his own running shoe.


"Get your little face back in there." Chad triumphantly grumbled, the low tone of his voice flowing like heavy nectar as he clamped his giant shoe back down; once again rendering me a prisoner of its malodourous chasm. I took a deep whiff and cried out in unadulterated disgruntlement for what seemed like the millionth time, but the undefeatable sponge gag Frank and Greg had force-stuffed inside my mouth rendered my attempts completely useless.

Cheers erupted from the throng of burly spectators, but the angry sound of duct tape and the muffled moaning that almost immediately ensued quickly alerted me to the fact that something was being done to Eric. And judging from the sound of his garbled pleas, he wasn't particularly enjoying it.


When finally Chad's shoe was pulled off of my protesting face, I thought my ordeal was over, but that theory was quickly dismissed when another discarded trainer was snatched off the tent floor and unceremoniously clamped down atop my face. Though I didn't even get the time to see whose sneaker it was, I didn't need more than a tentative whiff to recognise the poignant smell of Derek's footwear.

"Mgggghpphh!" I cried out and lamented, struggling against the maddeningly restrictive sleeping bag cocoon in a seemingly desperate bid to get away from the unbearably pungent stench.

"Yeah, sniff my buddy's stinky shoe." Chad purred, his deep husky voice quite literally dripping with fiendish enjoyment and sadistic intent.


Derek's shoe stank worse than his friend's, and judging from the severity of the odour that permeated its gaping maw, it was made amply clear that the beefy leviathan suffered from a foot odour problem of similar magnitude to that of Eric's and Andrew's.

I was, as you might expect, understandably hopeful when the compassionate-looking beefcake eventually took notice of what was being done to me and approached our position, not with malice, but with a mixture of amusement and sympathy written all over his bearded face. I thought he was going to intervene or at the very least tell his more boisterous buddy to take it easy and give me a break, but my momentary relief was once again swept out the figurative window when he too ended up chuckling at my expense and grabbing a shoe from off the tent floor.





I screamed, coughed, yelled out and groaned as the two gargantuan musclemen smirked with glee and loomed above my gurney-bound form. With my body strapped down and the enormous loft of two immensely thick sleeping bags pressing up all around me, my protruding head was left virtually defenceless against the torturously funky trainers the two brutes kept trying to clamp atop my face.

I was too preoccupied with surviving the foul stench to give this any thought, but thinking back on it now, Derek's reluctance at exposing me to his own inexplicably strong-smelling footwear was quite noticeable and blatant. Though he chuckled and found my adverse reaction to it quite funny, the hulking fellow contented himself with tormenting me with one of Chad's somewhat more palatable shoes even though he knew it stank considerably less than his own. For some reason, that made it all the hotter.


To my left sat a bashful yet very much amused behemoth; a behemoth who kept trying to trap my face into the frighteningly gaping chasm of Chad's positively musty sneaker. And to my right sat an equally beefy leviathan; one who quite obviously experienced an immense thrill at watching me sniff and choke on his buddy's horrifyingly foul-scented trainer.

Even though I coughed and gagged pretty much the entire time, it continued like that for several minutes on end; both hunks hovering their massive shoes above my gagged face and both of them apparently finding great joy in tormenting me with each other's godawful footwear.

A genuine sigh of relief would echo past my heavily-stuffed mouth every time I found myself being swallowed up inside Chad's musty shoe, but an equally genuine cry of revulsion would quickly follow suit every time Chad wrestled his own shoe away and replaced it with one of Derek's.


The two men laughed at my expense, even as most of their tentmates remained focused on the spectacle that was Sergei's frantic attempts to break free, but it's only when Derek finally grew tired of making me sniff Chad's sneaker and proceeded to randomly snatch up one of the other available shoes that my unbridled state of revulsion reached heights I hadn't previously believed possible.

"Mhhggphh! Mgggpph!" I screamed over and over again, shaking my head 'no' in angry disapproval as soon as I witnessed my semi-bashful captor picking up what I immediately recognised as being the worst-smelling sneaker of the lot.





Derek's face betrayed a semblance of remorse upon seeing my panicked expression, but that didn't stop him from excitedly sticking the edge of his tongue out from the right side of his mouth, nor did it stop him from hovering the business end of hunky William's indescribably acrid running shoe down on top of my hopelessly distraught face.

The instant Chad took notice of my unfeigned inability to cope with the handsome firefighter's astoundingly cheesy foot fumes, he too abandoned the sneaker he was wielding and promptly scrambled to replace it with one of William's battered trainers.

I was, to put it mildly, caught somewhere between heaven and hell as both tremendously reeking sneakers began closing in on me from both directions at once.

Blue-eyed William was undoubtedly one of the hottest or quite possibly the hottest guy around, but his heavily overworked and very grimy-looking Asics held none of their wearer's appeal. In other words, I wanted nothing to do with them. Unfortunately for me, the decision was not mine to make. Before the night was over, I would, much to my own imminent chagrin, become well acquainted with the overpowering stench of the young firefighter's insanely cheesy footwear. Very well acquainted.

"Mggghhhph!"

Really glad to see you back at writing I hope you're doing well! And what a fun chapter to come back to, the environment really is intoxicating and the story has such a great atmosphere to it. I'd be interest to see our lovely protagonist rank the well... rankness of each of our large dominants. Because I am loving that William has some rightfully putrid foot odour.

A new bondagefreak chapter! Tears of joy this morning!

Such a hot chapter to welcome you back. Can't blame Ethan for wanting to be Mitch's prisoner. I know I do!

Loved seeing Ethan on the receiving end of some foot stink torture again and the buffet of scents William is incredibly attractive and I am glad to see his footwear is going to play a key feature in the story!

Yes! The long awaited chapter is back to continue on where we last saw Eric and Sergei. And hi Ethan, still tied up in the sleeping bags, must be might nice and comfy in those two big bags and strapped down to the gurney.

bondagefreak wrote: ↑1 year ago And so there I was, strapped down to this godforsaken medical gurney like some dangerous crime lord in a maximum security prison, zipped up inside an unfathomably thick cocoon composed of two antarctic-grade sleeping bags, and muzzled up so fiercely that even my most valiant attempts at calling out for help ended up coming out as nothing but a faint whimper.

Indeed you were, having many people working together to secure you in place. I bet the shoe sniffing was your medication treatment as well. And looks like you got another dose coming from William's shoe.

Glad to see the story starting to continue on. The wonderful atmosphere of men getting together to have fun on the camping trip and then the night leading down to some nice bondage games with some nice sock gags. And poor Ethan starting to get jealous to not be tied up by his dad, probably misses Andrew when he tied him up a lot. Great work again as always, [mention]bondagefreak[/mention] and I can't wait to see in the other stories.