As if Bob's two-meter-tall, 240-pound behemothic frame wasn't already imposing enough, the burly muscle-dilf's unquestionably handsome features took on the air of an intimidating frown the moment he stepped into the living room and set his sights on our little group. This was not what he expected to find and he quite understandably was not happy to see his rebellious son ungagged.
"Hi, dad!" Sammy nervously blurted, trying to feign ignorance of what he'd done wrong by greeting his father the way he normally did and dressing his lips with an almost sheepish smile.
Officer Bob was hardly impressed. The heavy thudding of his booted steps and the discordant creaking of his thick leather police jacket filled the awkward silence as he stormed into the living room; making a beeline straight towards the chair-bound captive. Shane tried getting some sort of desperate plea out the instant he saw the burly patriarch rushing towards him, but the first set of syllables hadn't even escaped his mouth that the largest, thickest and most uncompromising of leathery handgags clamped down over the near-entirety of his face.
"No! Wwmmmpphhh..."
Poor Shane was instantaneously smothered into speechlessness as Officer Bob's jet-black, sheening gloved palm engulfed everything from the bottom of his chin right up to just under his eyes. The chair-bound teen could do nothing and say nothing as the towering police officer spent the next several minutes verbally reprimanding his younger brother Sammy. Though one could argue that I was Sam's accomplice in all this, Bob did not once allude to my albeit meagre participation, and instead chose to triangulate all of his attention on his son.
"Hey Liam." were the only two words Bob used to address me, his face temporarily taking on the semblance of a smile even though I knew his current mood to be less than stellar.
Shane just sat there in silence as the impossibly thick-limbed strongman scolded and rebuked the younger culprit. The squinting of his tear-lined eyes and the growing urgency of his efforts to escape the undefeatable prison chair left little doubt as to the fact that he was struggling to fill his lungs up. Officer Bob quite predictably remained oblivious to it all and continued his lengthy rebuke; his eldest son's laboured sniffs only occasionally punctuating the silence that separated his words.
Shane's eyes narrowed down on the leather-clad behemoth's tremendously broad and immensely thick palm, but even though his efforts to draw breath were growing more desperate and laborious by the second, his big, bad & brutish father took no notice.
The bound teen struggled and sniffed, his flaring nostrils only managing to pick up the puniest slivers of air from under the burly police officer's gargantuan gloved palm - each sniff no doubt thick with the intoxicatingly powerful scent of leather.
Shane was left to struggle like that for several more minutes before being wheeled back into the privacy of his own bedroom; Officer Bob's suffocatingly massive palm and fingers never once leaving his face and never once allowing him to speak.
Judging from the fact that nary a sound escaped from Shane's room even after Bob had left it, I knew with utmost certainty that the chair-bound teen's mouth had been assertively replugged. The thought of that caused a familiar tingling in my body. The only thing that pleased me more than knowing he was gagged would've been witnessing the gag being imposed on him or being at the receiving end of it myself.
I don't exactly know why, but the idea of experiencing some form of restrictive bondage had been occupying my mind for weeks now. And no matter what I did, I just couldn't shake the thought of it.
In any case, Bob reemerged back into the living area several minutes later, this time clad in nothing but his giant police boots, tight uniform trousers and black leather patrol gloves. The thick leather jacket that normally adorned his supremely broad torso no doubt lay sprawled over his bed, along with the snug-fitting uniform shirt he always wore underneath it.
Sam and I sat on the living room floor, gaming on the PS5 console even as the mighty police officer slowly strutted towards us; the noisy creaking of angry leather making itself manifest as he sat his monumental frame down on the couch.
An audible sigh of relief left the 43-year-old muscle cop's mouth and two telltale thuds echoed directly behind me as the stupendously burly man-of-the-house plopped both of his booted soles down on the wooden coffee table my friend and I had our upper backs pressed up against. The slight scent of leather and the discreet turning of my head pretty much confirmed what I already knew; the underside of Bob's gargantuan boots was practically brushing against the back of our comparatively diminutive heads.
"So, aside from disobeying my orders, what have you naughty dingbats been up to?" the broad-shouldered hulk-of-a-man humorously asked, removing the heavy tactical belt from which his badge, flashlight, gun holster, handcuffs, bâton and riot-grade zipties hung before placing it down on the coffee table next to his booted soles.
Sam went on absentmindedly describing our day even as we sat there and gamed; the proximity of his dad's booted soles and the tantalisingly restraint-heavy tactical belt having no discernable effect on him.
The burly brute seemed quite content to just sip his beer and watch us game for a while, unapologetically allowing a positively thunderous fart to blast out from his seated bums before gulping down the remainder of his cold brew and chuckling in mild amusement as my car crashed into Sammy's, forcing him off the raised highway we were racing on.
The hairy-chested dilf spent roughly half an hour on the couch before finally rising up and heading towards the kitchen.
"You staying over for supper, Liam?" he asked, reappearing in the living room a few minutes later with a box of rice in one hand and a measuring cup in the other.
"Okay!" I very eagerly responded, turning away from the TV screen just long enough to give the shirtless leviathan a thankful smile.
Officer Bob flashed me his signature wink, but even as he poured additional rice into his measuring cup and slowly walked away, I couldn't help but take note of the fact that he outright refused to take his sheening, jet-black leather gloves off.
Bob spent what must've been the better part of an hour slowly getting supper ready to the sound of background rock music playing on the radio. When Sam asked me to pause our game for a quick bathroom break, I used the opportunity to step into the kitchen and ask my host if I could do anything to help.
"Sure thing, kiddo." the man cheerfully spoke, taking out not three but four place sets, with the matching number of glasses and utensils. "If you wanna help you can set the table and take out whatever you and Sammy feel like drinking with supper." he casually instructed, quickly giving me a fatherly pat on the head as a sign of appreciation for the thoughtfulness of my offer.
The four place sets left little doubt as to the fact that Shane would eventually be joining us, and my assumptions were proven entirely correct when Bob exited the kitchen only to wheel his strictly chair-bound and very much plug-gagged son into the dining room just a few minutes later.
If you thought Shane's predicament was uncalled for and extreme earlier on, you should've seen him now. Not only was the troublesome teen's mouth once again left bulging around his father's infernally bulbous plug, but his head was also completely strapped down; rendering him utterly immobile and unable to turn his head around in any direction.
Poor Shane met my gaze for an instant; his eyes temporarily locking with mine as I scanned his paralyzed face, or what little was left of it underneath the criss-crossing mess of thick straps and buckles.
I had little love for Sam's brother, but even so, I couldn't help but feel a modicum of sympathy for what it was he was going through. He looked so helpless, impotent and - dare I say it - weak, all tightly strapped down; his head, limbs and body rendered unconditionally immobile.
Being seen in such a reduced and weakened state must've been unbearably humiliating for him, and although the massive plug prevented him from saying anything to that effect or confirming what I knew to be true, the normally rowdy teen's eyes and facial expressions spoke aplenty.
Officer Bob wheeled his eldest son right up to the dining room table, and then he lowered the restraint chair's breaks down before casually marching back to the kitchen in order to get the seasoned steaks ready for the barbecue.
Poor Shane just sat there, facing away from the living room TV and staring straight at the dining room wall. Nary an audible peep left his distended facial cavity, even as his bloated cheeks and mouth struggled to contend with the hellishly fat bulb his father had deemed fit to use on him.
It wasn't just the gag though. The wall standing before him was as bland as it was sparsely decorated, but even so, the chair-bound and gagged captive was given no choice but to observe it and lose himself in its relative sparsity. Several times I caught him trying to glance left and right in an effort to find something - anything - of worth to distract himself with, but each and every time, the thick straps forcing the back of his hairy dome deep into the heftily-cushioned headrest rendered his efforts futile. Utterly and completely futile.
Suppertime was going to be mighty interesting, I knew.
This was one evening meal I sure as hell didn't plan on missing!
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Last edited by bondagefreak5 months ago, edited 1 time in total.
Bob, despite his brutish manner, is cute, and actually quite charming. I am deeply appreciative that he seems to know exactly where to focus his frustrations, and to mete out justice fairly. That said, I had to fan myself quite furiously when he winked!
Volobond wrote: ↑6 months ago
Bob, despite his brutish manner, is cute, and actually quite charming. I am deeply appreciative that he seems to know exactly where to focus his frustrations, and to mete out justice fairly. That said, I had to fan myself quite furiously when he winked!
Volo melts under a dilf's charms too. Looks like Officer Bob is winning hearts with all his leather gear and smooth charisma
Banner by bondagefreak --- Link to my stories: Click Here
Chapters coming out think and fast to the usual high standard. @bondagefreak you really are spoiling us.
The expression is usually 'All the gear and no idea' but I think in this case we can all agree that Officer Bob has all the gear and a very good idea of how to use it! That plug gag is amazing and a perfect accompaniment to the extreme bondage chair. The perfect embodiment and enforcement of Officer Bob's will.
Roll on dinner time.
A pup is for life but especially for bondage so get out the sleepsack and muzzle.
What an amazing chapter! Shane must be furious to have the giant plug back i his mouth and his head strapped to the chair but I just can't stop thinking how wonderful it would be to be in his place...
Boy Bob wasn't happy with the ungagged prisoner in the house. But least he relaxed afterwards once Shane was plugged again. And it seemed like everything was back to normal with Liam staying for dinner and about to witness the dinner for Shane. Curious to see what happens here. Can't wait, @bondagefreak
I'm just waiting for the other shoe to drop. There's no way Officer Bob isn't going to punish Sam and Liam for disobeying his orders and allowing the prisoner a change of scenery and time ungagged...
gag1195 wrote: ↑6 months ago
I'm just waiting for the other shoe to drop. There's no way Officer Bob isn't going to punish Sam and Liam for disobeying his orders and allowing the prisoner a change of scenery and time ungagged...
I agree. Bob is being way too calm. I think its not if but when. Will he take advantage of the dining room chairs during dinner? Or will he let them eat first before he strikes? Hopefully he isn't waiting for Liam to go home before he deals with Sammy. Liam would hate to miss that.
Well! I am still enjoying officer's Bob's brand of grounding! That chair and gag are still quite devious too. I love how Bob made sure Shane was kept quiet the entire time he got home, love that enforced silence .
Even though I don't usually respond to each individual comment, I want you guys to know I read each and every one of them - often more than once - and hugely appreciate the feedback, remarks and commentary. You guys make all the difference here and this place most definitely wouldn't be the same without your continued support. Thanks a bunch, guys!
The next chapter is on the way and should be up within the next few hours.
Stay tuned and be sure to check back here a bit later today.
Volobond wrote: ↑6 months ago
Bob, despite his brutish manner, is cute, and actually quite charming. I am deeply appreciative that he seems to know exactly where to focus his frustrations, and to mete out justice fairly. That said, I had to fan myself quite furiously when he winked!
Guardianbound wrote: ↑6 months ago
Volo melts under a dilf's charms too. Looks like Officer Bob is winning hearts with all his leather gear and smooth charisma
Haha, I'm glad to see Officer Bob has the both of you under his spell.
Better keep fanning yourselves, boyz
Pup Wingletang wrote: ↑6 months ago
That plug gag is amazing and a perfect accompaniment to the extreme bondage chair.
The perfect embodiment and enforcement of Officer Bob's will.
I'm glad you think so! Our narrator also seems to think the plug is the perfect embodiment of Bob's larger-than-life character.
squirrel wrote: ↑6 months ago
What an amazing chapter! Shane must be furious to have the giant plug back in his mouth...
Furious and hating it! Just the way you guys like it
Subboi wrote: ↑6 months ago
Officer Bob continues to impress. That handgag was hot!
Starcomet wrote: ↑6 months ago
I love how Bob made sure Shane was kept quiet the entire time he got home, love that enforced silence .
I knew that particular scene would speak to the both of you. Glad I wasn't wrong
Suppertime at the Andersson's had never been quite so...how shall I put it? Interesting - for lack of a better term. Shane's mouth was eventually ungagged, but the difficult unplugging of his orifice was immediately followed by a stern order to stay silent and the unspoken threat of an even worse fate should he fail to do so.
The inconceivably fat gag was strategically positioned on the table, directly next to Shane's plate; its close proximity and intentionally menacing presence apparently being enough of a deterrent to keep the normally boisterous teen in line.
I have to admit, I was positively mesmerised by the sight of Officer Bob basically spoon-feeding his own seventeen-year-old son. I thought for sure Shane was going to be freed and allowed to eat supper on his own, but Bob didn't appear the least bit interested in allowing him that dignity. Quite the opposite. The powerless teen remained fully strapped down and not a single one of his undefeatable restraints was loosened up or mercifully undone. Not even the headstraps!
Bob shamelessly fed his chair-bound prisoner; cutting up his pepper sauce-covered steak for him before moving the fork up to his mouth, and even hand-feeding him barbecued potato wedges using his own leathery glove-clad fingers.
"Open!" the burly muscle cop authoritatively demanded, using his remarkably thick, jet-black leather digits to bring another roasted potato wedge up to his bound son's still-busy lips. Shane chewed faster and tried protesting the rate at which he was being fed, but his dad would have none of it and the unwelcomed potato wedge was very hastily and semi-forcibly pushed in.
"Yeah, it fuckin' sucks, doesn't it? It's not easy being a tough guy." Bob humourlessly grumbled, visibly taking little joy in what he was doing and finding absolutely no pleasure in watching his once proud son's eyes pool with shame and embarrassment-induced tears.
"Better get used to it if you plan on being tough and spending the rest of your life behind bars, son. Once you wind up on the inside, there's no room for wimpy softies." the brutish man continued, his masculine features locked in a stern frown as he observed his eldest son's emotion-ridden face.
Sammy understandably found the whole affair reasonably amusing, but I was quite honestly transfixed and a bit deranged by the downright bizarre suppertime exchange. I didn't quite understand it at the time - and to tell you the truth, it still struck me as overkill even today - but there was method to Bob's outwardly excessive and decidedly unorthodox manner.
He worked in the criminal justice system and knew all the ins and outs of prisons and other correctional facilities, not to mention the stuff that usually went around in there. Shane could and was still getting away with delinquent and borderline criminal behaviour, but that was due to his age. In just a few months from now, that seemingly impenetrable layer of protection would cease to exist and he would enter the world of adulthood, with all the perks and disadvantages that inevitably entailed.
Bob was worried for his son, and understandably so. Shane was in dire need of a wake-up call, hopefully before it was too late. Another one of his stupid criminal misconducts and the intractable teen could very well find himself wasting away the better years of his life and serving a long sentence behind bars. A sad fate, even for one as troublesome as he.
Anyways, Shane was eventually given a tall glass of water to help wash his supper down and though I admittedly continued feeling a bit bad for him, I found myself once again tingling with excitement at the sight of big burly Bob reaching down to pick up the downright colossal plug gag.
"Think about what I said, son. Think about it long and hard." he spoke, as he brought the terrifyingly monstrous bulb up to his chair-bound son's visibly terror-stricken face.
As soon as the command to open up was voiced out, Shane eyed the giant bulb and then voluntarily surrendered to it, seeing no other option than to reluctantly comply. Still, his father wasn't satisfied.
"Open up. Wider! Tongue down!" the gruff patriarch commandingly barked, his brow still locked in a deep, unflinching scowl.
Shane once again silently obeyed, opening up even wider and keeping his tongue flat down to make room for his brawny father's totalitarian plug. The young man's hazel eyes followed the giant gag's menacing approach as thick creaking fingers clad in the darkest leather drove it into his now fiercely bulging lips. Poor Shane's facial expression quickly turned to one of unspoken panic as he tried to cope with the fear-inspiringly large intrusion. The monstrous gag was only halfway in that the captive-teen was already struggling to escape his bonds; the bulb being so fat and unaccommodating that it not only stretched his cheeks out but also reached all the way into the back of his mouth.
It took the hairy, jumbo-limbed, broad-fingered behemoth-cop a full blissfully long minute to get his son's frustratingly diminutive mouth fully plugged and secured.
"Good luck trying to get a peep out past dad's thick gag." the brute gruffly spoke; the young prisoner's glossy eyes now bearing obvious signs of great shame and embarrassment.
To his own credit, Shane did, at one point, try to huff some sort of frustrated complaint out. Much to my - and especially Sammy's - amusement though, the chair-bound teen once again immediately fell silent as soon as the retreating patriarch spun around and menacingly towered above him.
"What's that?! You got somethin' to say, boy?!" the beefy muscle cop assertively demanded, causing his bound and gagged son to rapidly avert his eyes away. "Yeah, that's what I thought." burly Bob domineeringly went on, accepting the seventeen-year-old's clear display of unmistakable deference.
Sam and I helped out by clearing the dining room table and loading the dishwasher up while Mr. Andersson cleaned the patio barbecue. My friend and I then spent about an hour fooling around in the backyard pool, enjoying the remaining hours of dwindling sunlight and doing the same stuff that we normally did during the day.
Sammy sort of satiated my curiosity by confirming that his brother would indeed be given time to shower and do his business later on. He found my question silly, as though the answer should've been plainly obvious, and even injected his verbal response with an "Of course he gets time to do his business. Duh!" before using his Super Soaker water gun to squirt a stream of pool water right in my face for apparently being a dimwit.
He laughed when I fought back, doing his best to swim away from me as I grabbed my own water gun and unleashed a fiery barrage of high-pressure jets directly on the back of his exposed head.
"Your brother doesn't sleep in the chair, does he?" I at one point managed to ask, to which my friend chuckled and assured me he didn't.
"No, of course not." Sammy laughed, visibly amused by my line of questioning.
"Isn't your dad worried he'd like...sneak away during the night or something?"
"Yup. But he's grounded, so he's not allowed to leave the house on his own." Sam casually went on, before alerting me to the fact that his dad had borrowed a medical restraint gurney from the firefighter who lived right across the street from us and whose youngest son Ethan was an ex-classmate of Shane's.
"A medical restraint gurney?" I asked, having some sort of vague idea as to what that might be, but not wanting to step out of the warm, 30 degrees Celsius heated pool just to look it up on my phone at that very moment.
"Uh, damn." my friend huffed, almost as if having momentarily debated something before coming to an unwanted conclusion. "If dad wasn't home I'd show you. I guess we could sorta sneak into his room if you really want to, but I think it'd just be better if I showed you tomorrow when he's at work."
I made a mental note to look it up on my computer as soon as I returned home, but nevertheless eagerly accepted my friend's exciting proposal. I didn't quite know what a restraint gurney was, but I was definitely curious to find out, especially given how it was being used to successfully prevent Shane from sneaking out of the house at night. The fact that it belonged to the equally hulking and admittedly very handsome firefighter who lived right across the street from us was also sorta hot.
In any case, I was granted a final parting gift when I opened the patio door and stepped into the airconditioned house to thank Officer Bob for the fine supper and to wish him and his eldest son a good evening. The instant my moderately soaked, towel-clad form stepped in, the absolute thickest and most poignant of smells assaulted me.
The tremendously muscular police officer was just lying there on the couch; watching TV with his gloved hands crossed behind his head and his positively MASSIVE socked soles propped up against the well-cushioned armrest.
The impossibly potent stench spilling out of his recently discarded, steaming hot police boots and feverishly pungent tube socks immediately tickled my nostrils and stung my eyes. The beefy man, however, seemed totally unconcerned by the offensive smell and entirely absorbed by the game of American football that was playing on his TV and blaring through his living room stereo system. Totally unconcerned and entirely untroubled by the fact that his chair-bound son Shane was also in the living room, facing away from the TV screen and positioned less than a meter away from the couch.
"Uhm, Mr. Andersson? I just wanted to wish you a good day at work tomorrow and thank you for having me over for supper." I told my friend's dad.
"Ahhh anytime, kiddo. It's always a pleasure to have you over. See you tomorrow, sunny-boy! Say hi to your mum and dad for me!" he cheerfully beamed, flashing me a loving smile as I turned around to step back out of the harrowingly puke-inducing abode.
The last thing I saw as I closed the patio door and stepped into my pool water-dampened flip-flops was the sight of poor Shane's visibly mortified and very much cross-eyed and panicked face.
For a second there, the older teen actually met my gaze. He couldn't get a peep out past his uncompromisingly thick gag, but he didn't need to. His watery eyes desperately pleaded with me not to leave him to his fate, before once again squinting from the poignancy of the stench and rolling back into his own head.
I admittedly felt very bad for him but was nevertheless greatly relieved to once again be free of his hellishly foul-footed father's infernally fuming footwear. Very relieved! Good god, Officer Bob's feet STANK!
INTERESTED IN THIS STORY? WANT A FOLLOW-UP CHAPTER? LET ME KNOW IN THE COMMENTS! IF YOU'RE NOT YET REGISTERED, TAKE A MINUTE TO SIGN UP AND JOIN THIS AWESOME COMMUNITY!
"Oh.... how wonderful to see Officer Bob not taking off his gloves... what a perfect father, cruel, keeping his son restrained and gagged, but also taking care of him!"
I quite enjoyed this chapter! Even though I still feel that Shane is being really unfairly treated and Bob's on a powertrip, I can't help but find the whole thing just a little bit hot lol.
Loved the sockpic! Iirc it has been about a week since HA1? Shane and Caleb were gagged then with Bob's wee-old socks, and now Bob has another pair of week-old socks on? Would love some clarification
Really appreciating the update speed too - keeps me fixated on the story and fulfills that quenching need
How humiliating for Shane to be fed by his father while totally restrained...but also arousing! And what is with Bob making the boys smell his pungent socks? I am sure he knows very well how it affects them...as it would me .
damn this is so good, thanks for releasing the sequel.
I can't wait to see what comes next, I hope that Liam will be able to make his dream come true, the cool thing would be if his friend discovers him and makes him do something to him or that he is the victim.
What a nice chapter to see how the feeding went for Shane. Short and fast and immediately gagged again. Just how it should be. Hopefully this chair punishment does scare him straight to become better on his choices and doesn't get into more trouble with the law. Bob would definitely hate to have arrest his adult son for a more heinous crime if he isn't careful. And seems like Mitch is being very helpful to accommodate for Shane's sleeping arrangements. Great chapter again, can't for more, @bondagefreak!
Shane may not ever truly appreciate the tough love he's getting now, but someday in the future when the thought of malfeasance is met by a reflexive recollection of immobilization, humiliation, and repugnant odor, he'll think twice!
OrdinaryWorld wrote: ↑6 months ago
I quite enjoyed this chapter! Even though I still feel that Shane is being really unfairly treated and Bob's on a powertrip, I can't help but find the whole thing just a little bit hot lol.
Coming from you that's positively huge! Of course, I'm always hoping you'll enjoy the stuff I write, but I wasn't expecting you to enjoy this tale - and especially this latest chapter - all that much, given that you're not hugely into bondage and discipline-type stuff. I was actually expecting the chair, the plug and the hand-feeding to irk you a little bit. I wasn't expecting you to find this hot! You're really on the same wavelength as our narrator, it seems! Welcome to the nuthouse, my friend!
OrdinaryWorld wrote: ↑6 months ago
Loved the sockpic! Iirc it has been about a week since HA1? Shane and Caleb were gagged then with Bob's week-old socks, and now Bob has another pair of week-old socks on? Would love some clarification
According to the First Chapter of HA2 it's been roughly two weeks since the events of the previous episode during which Shane and Caleb were forcibly restrained. As for Officer Bob's hugely problematic socks and their current age and usage, your guess is as good as Liam's
@bondagefreak Thank you sir for another great story. Surely, this is something that I would follow until the end. Just a mention of those stink bombs, I just can't get enough. As always, I really loved how everything seems so vivid. Looking forward on what's coming next.
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