The Never-Ending Foot Slave (M/M) - FINAL CHAPTER! (November 5th)
Posted: Fri Aug 18, 2023 10:59 am
(Note: This is a story I wrote based on an idea from @Sockgaggedman , he wanted a story which was about his personal fantasy involving the characters from the Bound & Gagged, and the Easy Prey Universe. It’s not entirely realistic, and doesn’t feature Steven or Jeremy, so don’t consider it canon. Both @Sockgaggedman , and Sir @bondagefreak are happy with me to publish it here, so I hope you all like it )
(I wanted to attempt a different structure, and write in a second person perspective, since it feels more personal.)
Part 1:
Feeling bored, Nick and Zack pondered what to do, and decided they wanted a personal slave, someone they could taunt and torture. After trolling the streets day and night, they set their sights on someone: You!
They watched you endlessly, engaging in stakeouts for hours on end. In this time, they never changed their socks and shoes. The smell in their van was ripe, and the humidity of the raunchy sweat could be felt from outside. The two men were oblivious, they ceased to exist except for their fixation on their incoming slave. Their car trailed after you like a hunter, and you were none the wiser. They slid through concrete mazes, watching your every move, gathering information, and devilishly plotting your smelly demise.
Today was the day. They tooled up with tons of rope, rolls and rolls of duct tape, gaffer tape, electrical tape, and scotch tape, they brought collars and leads, and chains.
Back in the van, they followed you. Their foot odour has transformed the van into the inside of Nick’s construction boot, and the smell clung to every inch of it. They caught up to you and chatted with you for a bit, earning your trust. When you weren’t looking, they struck!
Zack grabbed hold of your arms, twisting them behind your back, and cupped your mouth before you had time to scream. His palms were thick and meaty, and enveloped your lower face. You could hardly breathe. As you mumbled pitifully in your gag, Nick got the stuff ready. He lifted your legs up, and began to encircle them with the tape. Pallet wrapping you. They mummified you in tape before roping your body up. To ensure your complete silence, Nick peeled off his boot, and the smell made you want to run, but Zack held you still. You had no choice but to smell it. They both laughed at your predicament. The smell was putrid. His black Nike socks stunk of a malt vinegar solution that was mixed with curdled cheese, and seasoned with pickled eggs. It wrinkled your nose, and burned your lungs. You coughed into your hand gag, that was so thick, it forced you to swallow the taste again. You could taste the ripe odour, and they held it so close to your face, that when they moved it back, toe jam had stuck to your nose, giving them the impression that you looked like you were dipped in ink.
(Nick's socks)
Zack yanked your Jaw open, and you were sure your cheeks would rip if he pulled any tighter. Nick forced the putrid sock in your gob, and before you could spit it out, another one was pushed in. The dried bits of sweat scratched on the roof of your mouth, tickling your tongue with the vibration sensation of the tingling taste that sent you into a permanent gagging retch. They tasted as if they were rolled over salt, dipped into melted cheese that had rotted in the sun for too long, and was drowned in a vat of boiling malt vinegar. The taste was so strong and acidic that it fried away your taste buds, and snapshotted a memory of this taste onto your tongue forever, so that this will be the last thing you ever taste, and no amount of mouth wash, toothpaste, water, and whatever it may be, will get rid of this rancid vinegary, cheesy taste. You will eventually call this pungent flavour home.
After plugging your mouth, they cover your entire face in duct tape, scotch tape, electrical, and gaffer tape. You can’t make a mumble, or move your head at all now even. They chuck you in the back of truck and drive off to your new life.
(Zack taping your big mouth up)
In the back of the van, Zack plays with his new toy as Nick speeds away. He holds your nose on and off for a bit, making your breathing frantic. Eventually, he puts his gym trainer over your nose. He leaves it there for 5 minutes. 5 minutes of personal hell for you. He takes it off and you get a brief reprieve. You try and look for fresh air, but the only air in this van is tainted with their vinegary foot sweat. Zack looks at your nose, it’s scarlet and inflamed from the fury of being forced to smell this effigy of hell contained inside this large shoe. You caught a glimpse of the insole. It was battered and ratty. It used to be blue but now has gone green, and the edges were browning and crumbling. You coughed at the sight.
The vehicle kept on speeding, but it slowed down when the lights of a cop car shone through the tinted windows of the van.
To keep you extra quiet, even though with this gag, you couldn’t even hear yourself breathe, Nick snuck in the back, and clamped his meaty hand over your tape muzzle to keep you silent. Zack, the charmer of the two, snuck into the driver’s seat, and shut the curtain that kept you and Nick invisible.
Zack awaited the cop’s arrival, and there he was. It was Officer Bob, with his friends Mitch and Frank on either side.
(You tied in the van)
Part 2:
Bob approached the window, with Mitch and Frank flanking from either side. Bob’s charmed smile radiated through the car window, and beckoned for Zack to roll it down. He did, and the two conversed for a few minutes, explaining the pleasantries and such. Eventually, Bob wanted to see the license and registration. Zack awkwardly looked around, knowing that it was Nick’s stuff in the glove compartment. Bob looked at his nervous fidgeting and his stalling. Asked to exit the vehicle, Zack did so and tried to figure out the best way to manoeuvre their way out of the situation.
Mitch and Frank stood either side of him, making sure that he couldn’t get away. Their smiles could cut steel, and they sliced right into Zack’s quaking nerves that he tried to shield. Bob could feel the strong smell emanating from the vehicle. In fact, they all could, and their noses shrivelled back into their faces for the smell was horrific. It was like the inside of a decrepit cheese factory. Frank coughed a little on the smell, and Bob started to breathe through his mouth as he entered the interior.
Bob excavated the vehicle, and started to hear your muffled pleas, and the sound of ruckus emerging from behind the velvet curtain. Bob got his gun to the ready, and drew back the curtain to reveal Nick planked on top of you, his hand over your gagged face, both of you tumbling over each other as you try and get away. Bob told you both to freeze, and you were glad of your incoming rescue. Nick’s face dropped, and he slowly slid off you, arms touching the sky. He ordered Nick to walk towards him slowly and exit the vehicle. You rolled on the floor, trying not to be ignored by these hulking goliaths. All that got you was Bob ordering you to be quiet, and you defiantly mumbled into your obnoxiously sized gag.
Zack was hyperventilating from fear, and tried to not show it. But he couldn’t stop the cascade of perspiration dripping from his forehead and pooling by his shoes. Mitch and Bob held him in place, a hand clamping on each shoulder, their feet behind his. If he tried to move, he’d head straight to slip and fall school.
Nick left the shaking vehicle, as you tumbled inside like an angry dishwasher. When he thought the coast was clear, he tried to book for an exit, hurtling down the road. He made it close to the end, and thought he got away, but Bob shot his taser at him, sending him crashing to the floor. The thud of his large body hitting concrete was so loud, even you could hear the sonic impact from inside the sweltering shoe you was imprisoned in.
Bob and Frank went to go bring Nick back to face justice, and Mitch kept tight hold of Zack. They were immediately put under arrest by Bob. However, Bob has just clocked off for the day, so they decide to hold them at his, and turn them in the next day. Upon hearing this, they both start to freak out, but they’re both kept still by their captors.
Bob puts the handcuffs on them both, but they’re both still capable of making an escape. They need to be fully secured. He grabs the bag of supplies from inside the cheesy car, and Frank and him restrain the two of them.
Bob takes care of Nick, Frank deals with Zack. They rope up their protesting bodies with thick twine, and put electrical tape over their hands, rendering them useless. To shut them up, they take some leftover socks from inside the bag. They fucking reek. They’re Zack's and smell like they were marinated overnight in a slimy vinegary sludge. Neither of them want to accept their gags, so Frank yanks on their jaws while Bob feeds them this pungent gift.
(Zack's smelly socks)
After filling up their mouths, they mummify their heads in scotch tape before stuffing them in the back of their police van. Placed upside down, both of them choke on each other’s smelly feet since Frank took off their shoes to make an escape even harder. Their frantic breathing were tainted by this foul vinegary odour that scorched their lungs.
(Zack and Nick's heads mummified by tape as they choke on Zack's smelly socks)
Mitch climbed inside the vehicle to comfort you, but you knew something was up because he didn’t remove your bonds, and his eyes were hungry, feasting on your bound and gagged form, struggling in this disgusting smelling car.
Bob and Frank drive off in the cop car getting ready to make Nick and Zack’s life hell for the next 24 hours before they are sent to jail and charged.
Part 3:
Mitch climbed into the driving seat, and that’s when you knew that you wasn’t going to be going home tonight. He drove back to his house, and laid you down on their coffee table. He called his boys down for a family meeting, and introduced you to them as their new slave. They told you their names as if they were oblivious to the fact that they had kidnapped you and turned you into a slave. You traded two masters for three masters, and when Mitch kicked off his shoes, and his son Andrew plonked his meaty socked soles by your face, you knew these weren’t any better than the last two.
(Andrew's socks)
There you was, bound on their coffee table, hooked to each leg, and gagged still with Nick’s socks. You moaned into your gag, but all it got you this time was Andrew’s rancid, vinegary socks that used to be white but were now bronze with grime and sweat, onto your muzzled mouth. The smell was horrific. You’d think these were the stinkiest socks in the world, but they weren’t. You knew for a fact that it was Mitch’s socks, for they were on the other side of the sofa to you, but smelled like they were jammed into your nose, and used as your inhaler. Ethan was there too, but he stayed out of it, just calmly revelling in this scene from the other side of the room. Mitch’s socks made his nose curl too, but he had the benefit of being able to breathe through his mouth. Unfortunately, you wasn’t awarded that privilege. From what you could gather from the corner of your watering eyes, you could see that his socks were thick wool socks, grey but starting to brown. The smell was like Andrew’s but 100x stronger, packing a heavier punch, and you could feel your face turning green after accidentally breathing too hard. The smell made you dizzy, and you passed out for a while.
You woke not long after to the sound of slurred shouting as a tipsy Mitch began to tie up an unruly Ethan. He must’ve said something off colour to him. Ethan put up a good fight, but it wasn’t long before he was bound in a similar position to you. Your bonds were connected, so every time one of you struggled, it began to choke the other. It forced him to calm down. I think Ethan might have said something about his foul foot odour, for Mitch ended up stuffing both of those pungent socks into his mouth, before wrapping revolution after revolution of electrical tape around his mouth. He couldn’t even mumble, and he disappeared under the tape.
(Mitch's socks)
It wasn’t long before Andrew made a dreaded decision. He commented on the ripe foot stink too and ended up in the same position as you and Ethan. Running out of gagging material, he removed your gag, and shoved your former captors’ socks into Andrew’s mouth. Imagine how humiliating that must be, to be gagged with the smelly socks of criminals you don’t even know. Mitch thought we were all secure, but forgot to realize, that by ungagging you to gag him, that you wasn’t gagged anymore. To shut you up as you began to beg for help, he jammed his foot into your mouth as deep as it could go. The taste was overwhelming, like his foot was rolled in salt, and dipped in vinegar. You gagged and drooled, he relaxed and pressed his other foot right under your nose, his wet toe jam sliding around your nostrils. To him, this was the life. To you, Ethan, and Andrew this was hell on earth.
Mitch called up Bob to look at the sight he created. He was having the time of his life. Bob was there in a hurry, leaving his captives with Frank for the night.
Bob marvelled at the sight of you all squirming under the stinky feet that pervaded the living room. The whole room stunk like the inside of a gym locker room. You then caught sight of the hungry look that enveloped Bob the way it did Mitch.
(You on Mitch's coffee table all bound and gagged, his feet in your face)
Part 4:
In a few seconds, Mitch was wrestled to the floor, hogtied, and temporally gagged with a coaster shoved in his mouth, as the three of you watched, mumbling nervously into your gags. Except Ethan that is, he couldn’t move his jaw at all after what Mitch did to him. You, on the other hand, was free to run your mouth. But upon seeing Mitch get his just desserts, you remained silent. Instead, you opted to spitting out the remnants of Mitch’s foot cheese that stuck to your mouth like a very thick glue.
Bob hunted for a suitable gag for Mitch. Eventually, he found Mitch’s old jockstrap stinking up a laundry hamper. The musk that radiated off it was lethal, and Bob shoved it into this large, protesting mouth, crotch end first. Mitch was sucking on his cock sweat, and will be doing so for a long time. The taste of his salty balls were pressed on his tastebuds, and bits of his wiry pubes got caught into his teeth.
To make sure he couldn’t spit it out, Bob tied two of Andrew’s socks together. The socks came straight off his foot, and were dripping in sweat. They were so sweaty that when Bob wrung them out, they made a puddle directly onto Mitch’s muffled face. He coughed and squirmed as he bathed in his son’s vinegary smelling foot sweat. Bob tied this makeshift gag over his mouth, pushing the jockstrap in further.
To add even more insult to injury, Bob hurried off into the kitchen, and got some extra strength gorilla tape, and began swallowing his face with it. You counted 30 rounds before Bob stopped. If Bob wasn’t one of the most well renowned cops in the county, Mitch would’ve complained. But since he was, no one would believe him, so he had to keep his mouth shut. With this mammoth of a gag, that wouldn’t be hard.
With all 3 of Mitch’s family thoroughly tied up and gagged, Bob stored them in a closet where they wouldn’t be found. It was the closet where they kept their laundry, and the smell was infamous. No-one would be going near that if they could help it. The smell was like the inner sanctum of a vinegar making factory that also homed a pickled onion industrial workshop.
All of them were bound head to foot. Poor Ethan, he was in the middle. He was bound lying straight ahead in a 90 degrees direction. Andrew was bound to the right of him, his feet cupped over Ethan’s nose, sending the strong smell directly down into his lungs. Mitch was to his left, and the smell was enough to make Ethan almost pass out, his feet were pushing Andrew’s further onto his face, making Ethan unable to move his head. The weight of both of these goliath feet, were crushing his face.
To shield them from view, Bob draped the smelly contents of the laundry hamper directly over their faces, blindfolding them. Andrew had it the worse, 5 of Mitch’s cheese and vinegar infested socks, oozing musk, landed onto his face. Rumour has it, that Andrew spent his time in captivity constantly coughing from the smell of those socks concentrated on his face. Bob also covered them in blankets, and the heat was immense. To keep from falling into a state of unconscious, they all had to breathe deeply without stopping. You know what that means, they spent their 20+ hours in captivity huffing their pungent odours.
(Some of the putrid laundry items that the poor family will be forced to endure)
If only they washed their gear more often. I guess you reap what you sow.
Bob then grabbed you, took off his boots that were old and battered. His golden toe black socks were peeled off his foot, they were so sweaty, that the sweat acted as glue. You take it back, Mitch’s socks aren’t the worst, Bob’s are. Bob crumpled up both of his socks that stunk like a rancid combination of all different industrial grade vinegars, with the added smell of limburger cheese that was boiled with pickled eggs, and marinated in an onion sauce. He stuffed them both in your pleading mouth before grabbing this muzzle gag that he used on his misbehaving son Shane, and buckled it over your mouth, and tightening it as tight as it can go.
He carried you over his shoulder, and hid you in the back of his police car that still stunk of Nick and Zack’s putrid soles. You spent 3 hours in that car before you both arrived back to his place, where he took you to his room, and put you in a collar and leashed it to the foot of his bed.
(You all muzzled up at the foot of Bob's bed)
You couldn’t move an inch, and your neck was burning from being unable to move. He climbed into the bed, and you could smell his feet. He was so tall, that his feet came off the edge of his bed, right atop your gagged face. The smell was intense, and his feet were so sweaty, that they just kept sliding over and around your face. The smell caught to the leather muzzle, so even when he left the room, his foot odour still clung to your nostrils.
You saw him in the door way, grabbing his monster cock through his boxers. You could see an imprint of it sticking out through the cloth. It was massive. He tugged on it. You saw his cheesy grin. You gulped, which only made the gag taste worse as his socks danced on your tongue.
(Bob's smelly soles draped over your nose)
He rushed over to you, unbuckled the muzzle really fast, and ripped out the socks. You knew what he was going to do next, and You braced for impact...
THE END
@bondagefreak @Sockgaggedman @squirrel @socjuc @OrdinaryWorld @Stormee (I tagged guys that I think will like this story)
(I wanted to attempt a different structure, and write in a second person perspective, since it feels more personal.)
Part 1:
Feeling bored, Nick and Zack pondered what to do, and decided they wanted a personal slave, someone they could taunt and torture. After trolling the streets day and night, they set their sights on someone: You!
They watched you endlessly, engaging in stakeouts for hours on end. In this time, they never changed their socks and shoes. The smell in their van was ripe, and the humidity of the raunchy sweat could be felt from outside. The two men were oblivious, they ceased to exist except for their fixation on their incoming slave. Their car trailed after you like a hunter, and you were none the wiser. They slid through concrete mazes, watching your every move, gathering information, and devilishly plotting your smelly demise.
Today was the day. They tooled up with tons of rope, rolls and rolls of duct tape, gaffer tape, electrical tape, and scotch tape, they brought collars and leads, and chains.
Back in the van, they followed you. Their foot odour has transformed the van into the inside of Nick’s construction boot, and the smell clung to every inch of it. They caught up to you and chatted with you for a bit, earning your trust. When you weren’t looking, they struck!
Zack grabbed hold of your arms, twisting them behind your back, and cupped your mouth before you had time to scream. His palms were thick and meaty, and enveloped your lower face. You could hardly breathe. As you mumbled pitifully in your gag, Nick got the stuff ready. He lifted your legs up, and began to encircle them with the tape. Pallet wrapping you. They mummified you in tape before roping your body up. To ensure your complete silence, Nick peeled off his boot, and the smell made you want to run, but Zack held you still. You had no choice but to smell it. They both laughed at your predicament. The smell was putrid. His black Nike socks stunk of a malt vinegar solution that was mixed with curdled cheese, and seasoned with pickled eggs. It wrinkled your nose, and burned your lungs. You coughed into your hand gag, that was so thick, it forced you to swallow the taste again. You could taste the ripe odour, and they held it so close to your face, that when they moved it back, toe jam had stuck to your nose, giving them the impression that you looked like you were dipped in ink.
(Nick's socks)
Zack yanked your Jaw open, and you were sure your cheeks would rip if he pulled any tighter. Nick forced the putrid sock in your gob, and before you could spit it out, another one was pushed in. The dried bits of sweat scratched on the roof of your mouth, tickling your tongue with the vibration sensation of the tingling taste that sent you into a permanent gagging retch. They tasted as if they were rolled over salt, dipped into melted cheese that had rotted in the sun for too long, and was drowned in a vat of boiling malt vinegar. The taste was so strong and acidic that it fried away your taste buds, and snapshotted a memory of this taste onto your tongue forever, so that this will be the last thing you ever taste, and no amount of mouth wash, toothpaste, water, and whatever it may be, will get rid of this rancid vinegary, cheesy taste. You will eventually call this pungent flavour home.
After plugging your mouth, they cover your entire face in duct tape, scotch tape, electrical, and gaffer tape. You can’t make a mumble, or move your head at all now even. They chuck you in the back of truck and drive off to your new life.
(Zack taping your big mouth up)
In the back of the van, Zack plays with his new toy as Nick speeds away. He holds your nose on and off for a bit, making your breathing frantic. Eventually, he puts his gym trainer over your nose. He leaves it there for 5 minutes. 5 minutes of personal hell for you. He takes it off and you get a brief reprieve. You try and look for fresh air, but the only air in this van is tainted with their vinegary foot sweat. Zack looks at your nose, it’s scarlet and inflamed from the fury of being forced to smell this effigy of hell contained inside this large shoe. You caught a glimpse of the insole. It was battered and ratty. It used to be blue but now has gone green, and the edges were browning and crumbling. You coughed at the sight.
The vehicle kept on speeding, but it slowed down when the lights of a cop car shone through the tinted windows of the van.
To keep you extra quiet, even though with this gag, you couldn’t even hear yourself breathe, Nick snuck in the back, and clamped his meaty hand over your tape muzzle to keep you silent. Zack, the charmer of the two, snuck into the driver’s seat, and shut the curtain that kept you and Nick invisible.
Zack awaited the cop’s arrival, and there he was. It was Officer Bob, with his friends Mitch and Frank on either side.
(You tied in the van)
Part 2:
Bob approached the window, with Mitch and Frank flanking from either side. Bob’s charmed smile radiated through the car window, and beckoned for Zack to roll it down. He did, and the two conversed for a few minutes, explaining the pleasantries and such. Eventually, Bob wanted to see the license and registration. Zack awkwardly looked around, knowing that it was Nick’s stuff in the glove compartment. Bob looked at his nervous fidgeting and his stalling. Asked to exit the vehicle, Zack did so and tried to figure out the best way to manoeuvre their way out of the situation.
Mitch and Frank stood either side of him, making sure that he couldn’t get away. Their smiles could cut steel, and they sliced right into Zack’s quaking nerves that he tried to shield. Bob could feel the strong smell emanating from the vehicle. In fact, they all could, and their noses shrivelled back into their faces for the smell was horrific. It was like the inside of a decrepit cheese factory. Frank coughed a little on the smell, and Bob started to breathe through his mouth as he entered the interior.
Bob excavated the vehicle, and started to hear your muffled pleas, and the sound of ruckus emerging from behind the velvet curtain. Bob got his gun to the ready, and drew back the curtain to reveal Nick planked on top of you, his hand over your gagged face, both of you tumbling over each other as you try and get away. Bob told you both to freeze, and you were glad of your incoming rescue. Nick’s face dropped, and he slowly slid off you, arms touching the sky. He ordered Nick to walk towards him slowly and exit the vehicle. You rolled on the floor, trying not to be ignored by these hulking goliaths. All that got you was Bob ordering you to be quiet, and you defiantly mumbled into your obnoxiously sized gag.
Zack was hyperventilating from fear, and tried to not show it. But he couldn’t stop the cascade of perspiration dripping from his forehead and pooling by his shoes. Mitch and Bob held him in place, a hand clamping on each shoulder, their feet behind his. If he tried to move, he’d head straight to slip and fall school.
Nick left the shaking vehicle, as you tumbled inside like an angry dishwasher. When he thought the coast was clear, he tried to book for an exit, hurtling down the road. He made it close to the end, and thought he got away, but Bob shot his taser at him, sending him crashing to the floor. The thud of his large body hitting concrete was so loud, even you could hear the sonic impact from inside the sweltering shoe you was imprisoned in.
Bob and Frank went to go bring Nick back to face justice, and Mitch kept tight hold of Zack. They were immediately put under arrest by Bob. However, Bob has just clocked off for the day, so they decide to hold them at his, and turn them in the next day. Upon hearing this, they both start to freak out, but they’re both kept still by their captors.
Bob puts the handcuffs on them both, but they’re both still capable of making an escape. They need to be fully secured. He grabs the bag of supplies from inside the cheesy car, and Frank and him restrain the two of them.
Bob takes care of Nick, Frank deals with Zack. They rope up their protesting bodies with thick twine, and put electrical tape over their hands, rendering them useless. To shut them up, they take some leftover socks from inside the bag. They fucking reek. They’re Zack's and smell like they were marinated overnight in a slimy vinegary sludge. Neither of them want to accept their gags, so Frank yanks on their jaws while Bob feeds them this pungent gift.
(Zack's smelly socks)
After filling up their mouths, they mummify their heads in scotch tape before stuffing them in the back of their police van. Placed upside down, both of them choke on each other’s smelly feet since Frank took off their shoes to make an escape even harder. Their frantic breathing were tainted by this foul vinegary odour that scorched their lungs.
(Zack and Nick's heads mummified by tape as they choke on Zack's smelly socks)
Mitch climbed inside the vehicle to comfort you, but you knew something was up because he didn’t remove your bonds, and his eyes were hungry, feasting on your bound and gagged form, struggling in this disgusting smelling car.
Bob and Frank drive off in the cop car getting ready to make Nick and Zack’s life hell for the next 24 hours before they are sent to jail and charged.
Part 3:
Mitch climbed into the driving seat, and that’s when you knew that you wasn’t going to be going home tonight. He drove back to his house, and laid you down on their coffee table. He called his boys down for a family meeting, and introduced you to them as their new slave. They told you their names as if they were oblivious to the fact that they had kidnapped you and turned you into a slave. You traded two masters for three masters, and when Mitch kicked off his shoes, and his son Andrew plonked his meaty socked soles by your face, you knew these weren’t any better than the last two.
(Andrew's socks)
There you was, bound on their coffee table, hooked to each leg, and gagged still with Nick’s socks. You moaned into your gag, but all it got you this time was Andrew’s rancid, vinegary socks that used to be white but were now bronze with grime and sweat, onto your muzzled mouth. The smell was horrific. You’d think these were the stinkiest socks in the world, but they weren’t. You knew for a fact that it was Mitch’s socks, for they were on the other side of the sofa to you, but smelled like they were jammed into your nose, and used as your inhaler. Ethan was there too, but he stayed out of it, just calmly revelling in this scene from the other side of the room. Mitch’s socks made his nose curl too, but he had the benefit of being able to breathe through his mouth. Unfortunately, you wasn’t awarded that privilege. From what you could gather from the corner of your watering eyes, you could see that his socks were thick wool socks, grey but starting to brown. The smell was like Andrew’s but 100x stronger, packing a heavier punch, and you could feel your face turning green after accidentally breathing too hard. The smell made you dizzy, and you passed out for a while.
You woke not long after to the sound of slurred shouting as a tipsy Mitch began to tie up an unruly Ethan. He must’ve said something off colour to him. Ethan put up a good fight, but it wasn’t long before he was bound in a similar position to you. Your bonds were connected, so every time one of you struggled, it began to choke the other. It forced him to calm down. I think Ethan might have said something about his foul foot odour, for Mitch ended up stuffing both of those pungent socks into his mouth, before wrapping revolution after revolution of electrical tape around his mouth. He couldn’t even mumble, and he disappeared under the tape.
(Mitch's socks)
It wasn’t long before Andrew made a dreaded decision. He commented on the ripe foot stink too and ended up in the same position as you and Ethan. Running out of gagging material, he removed your gag, and shoved your former captors’ socks into Andrew’s mouth. Imagine how humiliating that must be, to be gagged with the smelly socks of criminals you don’t even know. Mitch thought we were all secure, but forgot to realize, that by ungagging you to gag him, that you wasn’t gagged anymore. To shut you up as you began to beg for help, he jammed his foot into your mouth as deep as it could go. The taste was overwhelming, like his foot was rolled in salt, and dipped in vinegar. You gagged and drooled, he relaxed and pressed his other foot right under your nose, his wet toe jam sliding around your nostrils. To him, this was the life. To you, Ethan, and Andrew this was hell on earth.
Mitch called up Bob to look at the sight he created. He was having the time of his life. Bob was there in a hurry, leaving his captives with Frank for the night.
Bob marvelled at the sight of you all squirming under the stinky feet that pervaded the living room. The whole room stunk like the inside of a gym locker room. You then caught sight of the hungry look that enveloped Bob the way it did Mitch.
(You on Mitch's coffee table all bound and gagged, his feet in your face)
Part 4:
In a few seconds, Mitch was wrestled to the floor, hogtied, and temporally gagged with a coaster shoved in his mouth, as the three of you watched, mumbling nervously into your gags. Except Ethan that is, he couldn’t move his jaw at all after what Mitch did to him. You, on the other hand, was free to run your mouth. But upon seeing Mitch get his just desserts, you remained silent. Instead, you opted to spitting out the remnants of Mitch’s foot cheese that stuck to your mouth like a very thick glue.
Bob hunted for a suitable gag for Mitch. Eventually, he found Mitch’s old jockstrap stinking up a laundry hamper. The musk that radiated off it was lethal, and Bob shoved it into this large, protesting mouth, crotch end first. Mitch was sucking on his cock sweat, and will be doing so for a long time. The taste of his salty balls were pressed on his tastebuds, and bits of his wiry pubes got caught into his teeth.
To make sure he couldn’t spit it out, Bob tied two of Andrew’s socks together. The socks came straight off his foot, and were dripping in sweat. They were so sweaty that when Bob wrung them out, they made a puddle directly onto Mitch’s muffled face. He coughed and squirmed as he bathed in his son’s vinegary smelling foot sweat. Bob tied this makeshift gag over his mouth, pushing the jockstrap in further.
To add even more insult to injury, Bob hurried off into the kitchen, and got some extra strength gorilla tape, and began swallowing his face with it. You counted 30 rounds before Bob stopped. If Bob wasn’t one of the most well renowned cops in the county, Mitch would’ve complained. But since he was, no one would believe him, so he had to keep his mouth shut. With this mammoth of a gag, that wouldn’t be hard.
With all 3 of Mitch’s family thoroughly tied up and gagged, Bob stored them in a closet where they wouldn’t be found. It was the closet where they kept their laundry, and the smell was infamous. No-one would be going near that if they could help it. The smell was like the inner sanctum of a vinegar making factory that also homed a pickled onion industrial workshop.
All of them were bound head to foot. Poor Ethan, he was in the middle. He was bound lying straight ahead in a 90 degrees direction. Andrew was bound to the right of him, his feet cupped over Ethan’s nose, sending the strong smell directly down into his lungs. Mitch was to his left, and the smell was enough to make Ethan almost pass out, his feet were pushing Andrew’s further onto his face, making Ethan unable to move his head. The weight of both of these goliath feet, were crushing his face.
To shield them from view, Bob draped the smelly contents of the laundry hamper directly over their faces, blindfolding them. Andrew had it the worse, 5 of Mitch’s cheese and vinegar infested socks, oozing musk, landed onto his face. Rumour has it, that Andrew spent his time in captivity constantly coughing from the smell of those socks concentrated on his face. Bob also covered them in blankets, and the heat was immense. To keep from falling into a state of unconscious, they all had to breathe deeply without stopping. You know what that means, they spent their 20+ hours in captivity huffing their pungent odours.
(Some of the putrid laundry items that the poor family will be forced to endure)
If only they washed their gear more often. I guess you reap what you sow.
Bob then grabbed you, took off his boots that were old and battered. His golden toe black socks were peeled off his foot, they were so sweaty, that the sweat acted as glue. You take it back, Mitch’s socks aren’t the worst, Bob’s are. Bob crumpled up both of his socks that stunk like a rancid combination of all different industrial grade vinegars, with the added smell of limburger cheese that was boiled with pickled eggs, and marinated in an onion sauce. He stuffed them both in your pleading mouth before grabbing this muzzle gag that he used on his misbehaving son Shane, and buckled it over your mouth, and tightening it as tight as it can go.
He carried you over his shoulder, and hid you in the back of his police car that still stunk of Nick and Zack’s putrid soles. You spent 3 hours in that car before you both arrived back to his place, where he took you to his room, and put you in a collar and leashed it to the foot of his bed.
(You all muzzled up at the foot of Bob's bed)
You couldn’t move an inch, and your neck was burning from being unable to move. He climbed into the bed, and you could smell his feet. He was so tall, that his feet came off the edge of his bed, right atop your gagged face. The smell was intense, and his feet were so sweaty, that they just kept sliding over and around your face. The smell caught to the leather muzzle, so even when he left the room, his foot odour still clung to your nostrils.
You saw him in the door way, grabbing his monster cock through his boxers. You could see an imprint of it sticking out through the cloth. It was massive. He tugged on it. You saw his cheesy grin. You gulped, which only made the gag taste worse as his socks danced on your tongue.
(Bob's smelly soles draped over your nose)
He rushed over to you, unbuckled the muzzle really fast, and ripped out the socks. You knew what he was going to do next, and You braced for impact...
THE END
@bondagefreak @Sockgaggedman @squirrel @socjuc @OrdinaryWorld @Stormee (I tagged guys that I think will like this story)