HOUSE ARREST I & II (M+/m+) ILLUSTRATED * NEW CHAPTER DEC 03 *

[ChairBoy]

You are literally the cutest haha

Hehe tysm 🥹

I added you as a friend

[that1kid13]

Hehe tysm 🥹

I added you as a friend

I’m not sure what that means baby but you’re always welcome to reach out (:

[OrdinaryWorld]

Get a room you two!

[that1kid13]

Get a room you two!

But we like an audience!! 🩷

[ChairBoy]

I added you as a friend

I’m not sure what that means baby but you’re always welcome to reach out (:

Tysm means “thank you so much”

[ChairBoy]

Get a room you two!

Guess you gotta tie us up and put us in one haha maybe 69 too hahahaha!!

[that1kid13]

Get a room you two!

Guess you gotta tie us up and put us in one haha maybe 69 too hahahaha!!

He’s jealous because he wants to watch 🩷

[ChairBoy]

HOUSE ARREST II

THE ADVENTURE CONTINUES

I was terrified. Mortified, even. The surge of adrenaline rushing through my veins caused my heart to beat faster, and for a moment there it felt as though I'd lost track of my surroundings and everything else. All I could think about was escaping. All I could think about was fighting off this unknown assailant of mine.


"Nmmppphh. Mmgphh mmhhh ggmmpph!" I very fearfully cried out, struggling against the mystery guy's strong grip and desperately trying to get a call for help out past that frustratingly broad and very silencing palm of his.

"Haha, shhhhh. Stop squirming, you little fucker." he condescendingly whispered, pressing the back of my head up to his chest - the slight tinge of amusement in his deep baritone voice further confirming that I didn't know who he was.

I could tell he was young though. Judging from the sound of his voice, he was definitely older than Sammy, but probably not much older than Shane. I knew from the relative ease at which he'd halted my escape that he was strong, but even so, my valiant efforts to squirm away and escape were proving somewhat of a hindrance to him, immediately cementing the notion that he wasn't anywhere near as strong as Officer Bob was.

I'd been play-wrestled by Sammy's dad often enough to know that even my most spirited attempts to escape would have been nothing short of meaningless had he been the one to lift me off the ground and attempt to carry me away like this. Bob could wrestle myself and his two sons at the same time and still easily come out on top without even having to use most of his strength. He would've had no trouble carrying Sam and I under one arm and then parading us around the house with Shane under his other arm. So yeah, whoever this guy was, he was admittedly quite strong, but he was definitely no leviathan.


"Shhhh. Quiet." he at one point murmuringly mumbled, keeping his large hand clamped tight over my protesting face as he slowly - and with some difficulty - carried me back towards Shane's room.

My flailing legs kicked against the wooden doorframe, doing their best to try and delay our inevitable entry into the dreaded bedroom. Much to my own imminent despair though, the noisy ruckus caused yet another assailant to appear; this one immediately taking hold of my ankles and lifting them clear up off the floor so that I couldn't kick or fight back.

But wait! I knew this guy! Okay well no, I didn't exactly know him, but I mean I recognised him! He was one of Shane's friends! Matt! His name was Matt! Or was it Matthew? Or Mathias...or, ahhh anyways, who cares what his name was!


"Looks like we got ourselves a lil fighter!" my newest assailant chuckled, the medium-length shaggy hair, sagging red basketball shorts and backwards-facing skater cap immediately identifying him as just another dumb Alpha jock bro.





The instant I was carried into the smelly room, not one but four other guys were sitting on the bed and apparently waiting for our arrival. By four other guys, I mean Shane and three of his buddies. The window to Shane's bedroom was still open, giving me a fairly good idea of how his five friends had managed to sneak into the house and gain entry without our noticing. One of the guys - the oldest-looking of the bunch - was apparently hard at work trying to pick the padlock that kept Shane's bulbous plug gag from being tampered with. And from the looks of it, he wasn't having much success.


"Bro, we caught your punk-ass little brother!" Matt - or whatever his name was - excitedly told his newly freed but still very much plug-gagged colleague.

"No, you fuckin dweeb! That's not his brother! That's just the neighbour's kid." one of the other guys derisively answered, snorting at his fellow jock's dimwittedness before the dude picking Shane's lock told them both to pipe it down.

Shane just sat there on his own bed; his limbs free of their restraints but still looking positively pathetic with that massive mouth plug keeping his facial cavity in check.


"So what do we do with him? I mean we can't just let him go." the guy holding me immobile spoke; his frustratingly sizeable palm successfully keeping my would-be protests at bay while also keeping the back of my head pressed up against his firm and noticeably muscular chest.

"If we let him go, he'll warn his little friends and then they'll warn his dad." one of the other guys stated, motioning his head towards Shane in an effort to make it clear that he was speaking about Officer Bob.

"Yeah, sorry kiddo. Wrong time, wrong place. Looks like we'll be having to make sure you stay put and don't get a peep out. Can't have you calling out to your buddies for help now, can we?" the shaggy-haired skater dude smirked, slowly putting my legs down and drawing closer to my tightly handgagged form just so that he could ruffle my hair up.

"Mppphhh." I apprehensively whimpered, not in the least bit liking where their conversation was going.



In any other circumstance, I might've been thrilled at the prospect of finally being bound and restrained in some fashion. But being at the mercy of not one but five of Shane's infamously troublesome, good-for-nothing jock-bro friends - all of which seemed to range from eighteen to twenty-one years of age - was hardly what I had in mind. I was terrified of them, and judging from what little I knew of Shane's shady entourage, rightly so!

All five of Shane's mates looked at me, almost as if collectively deciding my verdict before finally, the one doing the lock-picking spoke. "Tape him up, guys." he commandingly ordered, to which the sound of subdued laughter and communal chuckling ensued.

"Yeah, let's tape him up." shot one guy.

"Let's tape him up good!" shot another, this one seeming particularly enthused by the idea of trussing me up and stashing me away against my will.


I tried getting a plea out and tried letting them know I wouldn't spill the beans about what they were doing if they'd just let me go, but the guy keeping me hostage didn't let up his big smothering handgag. He unapologetically carried me further into the room before slowly forcing my substantially smaller frame down to the carpeted floor and straddling me under his weight.

As soon as I was downed, Matt and another of Shane's jock bros converged on top of me; leaving one of the guys to guard the bedroom door while the group leader remained hard at work trying to pick Shane's tamperproof padlock.

As far as initiatory bondage experiences went, this one was going to be a shocker.
Definitely not the way I envisioned my first tie-up would go.

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!

I’m just waiting till officer bob comes back and punishes the fuck out of them

[bondagefreak]

@ChairBoy
I think @that1kid13 means he doesn't understand the "friend" thing. I'm not sure what the phpbb3-type forum creators had in mind, but the "adding a friend" option on these old-school forums was never a thing and has seldom (make that never) been used. It's an utterly pointless feature; one that most users on here aren't even aware of.

Also just wanna point out that we normally only use "quotes" when we wanna quote a few lines (or a paragraph) of a story or something another user wrote. Not an entire chapter. In any case, glad to see you getting off to an active start on here!

Couldn't help but notice that you and @that1kid13 still haven't graced us with your poll answers
Had you been Shane or Caleb in HOUSE ARREST 1, would you have accepted Bob's smelly sockgag?

[bondagefreak]

Huge thanks for all the comments, guys. It pleases me immensely to see so many of you enjoying this little adventure.
The next chapter will be up and ready to read in just a few hours. Stay tuned, folks! Cheers.

[sock slave boy]

Huge thanks for all the comments, guys. It pleases me immensely to see so many of you enjoying this little adventure.
The next chapter will be up and ready to read in just a few hours. Stay tuned, folks! Cheers.

I can't wait to read more

[bondagefreak]

HUGE THANKS FOR ALL THE COMMENTS & SUPPORT, GUYS!
HERE'S THE NEXT CHAPTER. HOPE YOU GUYS ENJOY IT!

BE SURE TO PAY SPECIAL ATTENTION TO THE AUTHOR'S NOTE AT THE TOP OF THE CHAPTER.

@Red86 @harveygasson @Pup Wingletang @squirrel @Footsub123 @Guardianbound @GoBucks @Socksbound @Wedgieboy69 @Volobond @Sockgaggedman @Msueta@2 @ShadowHusky @Stormee @The slave @Lovethemsocks @socjuc @OrdinaryWorld @Ropelover98 @Straitjacketed @Bradboi @Mitchelaiden @sock slave boy @Footsub @Starcomet @Subboi @boundanno @Ossassin @gag1195 @4toes @that1kid13 @blackbound @ChairBoy

[bondagefreak]

AUTHOR'S NOTE
AS ALWAYS, READING AT A SLOW PACE COMES HIGHLY RECOMMENDED.
RESPECT THE USE OF PUNCTUATION AND PAY CLOSE ATTENTION TO WORDS IN ITALIC LETTERS.
THE EXTRA EMPHASIS YOU PLACE ON THEM WILL GREATLY IMPROVE YOUR COMPREHENSION OF THIS TEXT.

HOUSE ARREST II

THE ADVENTURE CONTINUES

CHAPTER 15

I just couldn't believe it. For weeks, ever since having witnessed the spectacle of Officer Bob trussing his own son and nephew up, I'd been secretly preoccupied with thoughts pertaining to how it would feel being bound up and possibly even gagged for a while. Heck, I didn't just think about it, I fantasised about it! And not only at night, mind you, but during the day as well.

Though many opportunities had presented themselves, I still hadn't worked up the courage to ask Sam if he'd be down for playing such games, mostly out of fear of him thinking me weird for legitimately being curious about it. I'd thought about approaching him with the idea several times, under the believable guise of a YouTube duct tape escape challenge or something, but even so, the thought of opening up to him like that still made me antsy.

You understand, don't you? Yeah, I'm sure you do.

Anyway, never in a million years would I have imagined being manhandled by a group of guys and then being trussed up against my will. And yet, there I was, lying prone on the floor of my best friend's older brother's bedroom, with a 180-pound college-age jock bro sitting on my back and two more brawny Alpha studs menacingly looming above me.



"You got the tape, bro?" the guy straddling my lower back asked, ignoring my muffled attempts at letting him and his colleagues know I didn't need to be taped up or restrained in some fashion.

"Yeah, I think there's some tape inside Matt's bag. God, your bag fuckin' stinks, bro!" the dude sitting closest to my head laughed, unzipping a large duffle bag and rummaging through its clutter for almost a whole minute before eventually turning it upside down and spilling out all of its contents. He was right of course. Matt's bag really did stink.



With my chin propped up against the carpeted floor, I suddenly found myself faced with a veritable mound of smelly laundry, as socks, jockstraps, athletic cups, basketball shoes, boxing gloves, compression shorts and sports equipment of all kinds tumbled out of skaterbro Matt's funky-smelling gym bag.


"Ahh, there we go! That's what I'm talkin' about!" the guy sitting on my back cheered, wasting no time in grabbing one of the several rolls of white athletic tape that had tumbled onto the floor, before mercilessly forcing my arms closer together and beginning the process of taping my hands behind my back.

The tape angrily spun orbit after orbit around my comparatively feeble wrists, but still, its wielder didn't stop. His other colleague - the one who'd emptied the contents of Matt's gym bag onto the floor - eventually found another half-used roll of tape and then eagerly circled to the back of his seated friend before finally crouching down atop my unfettered legs.

"Guys...ugh, guys! You don't need to do this!" I desperately pleaded; adrenaline surging through my veins as warm hands and fingers wrapped themselves around my ankles and forcibly pressed them together. I groaned again when the sticky tape plastered itself against the skin just above one of my socked ankles, and then begged anew in the hopes of convincing Shane's friends that this truly wasn't necessary.

"Guys, I promise I won't tell. Please, you don't need to do this! I swear I wmppphhhh." was all I managed to blurt out before shaggy-haired Matt interrupted my plea by clamping his broad palms behind my head and in front of my face.



"Shhh. Quiet, dweeb. Better stop talking or these guys will turn your mouth into my personal laundry machine." he teasingly warned, putting an end to my verbal appeals but showing nary a hint of concern for the fact that his very sizeable bare palm covered not only my mouth but also my nose and nostrils.

"Haha! You got that right!" the guy still sitting on my back approvingly told his mate; his similarly large hands showing no signs of waning as they busily spun more and more revolutions of sticky tape around my already defeated and hopelessly well-restrained wrists. "Bro, I hope you've got more of this stuff." he at one point added, not so subtly hinting at the fact that he was running out of tape.

"No worries, man. If ever we run out, we can just use some of Kev's." the jock taping my ankle casually assured him, causing the sleeveless muscle-shirt-clad dude who was sitting on Shane's computer chair and keeping an eye on the slightly gaping doorway to turn his head in our direction.

"Yeah, my hockey bag's in the van. Got a few rolls in there if you guys need 'em." the seated bloke somewhat dispassionately mumbled, alerting me to the fact that his name was Kevin - or Kev, for short.


Matt - or Matthew or whatever - eventually released me from his smothering handgag, but much to my continued chagrin, the guy straddling my back still wasn't done taping my wrists up even by the time his buddy had deemed my ankles adequately secured.

"Keep going, bro. Tape him up good." the thick-palmed skater-dude chuckled, wholeheartedly agreeing with his tape-happy buddy's very liberal use of tape.

I could do nothing but lie there and wiggle my toes and fingers around as the able-bodied college jocks trussed me up and prepared me for what was undoubtedly going to be a long-term stashing. I could hear the sound of muffled mmphing as Shane tried to say something past his immensely fat gag, but the guy working on his padlock once again told him to keep his head steady before noticing my unfettered face and ordering his fellow jocks to quickly cover my mouth back up.

"Guys!" he barked, the irritation in his voice easily manifesting even through his subdued tone. "Keep your fuckin' voices down. And cover his fuckin' mouth up!" he ordered, immediately causing skater Matt to hurriedly clamp his sizeable hands around my head and face once more.

"Yeah, cover his mouth. Smother his little face up." one of the other guys approvingly cheered.

"Mmmppphhh."



"How's that lock coming?" one of the jocks eventually asked, to which the bloke trying to pick Shane's lock merely huffed in mild frustration. "It's not coming at all, man. I need those fuckin' lockpicks. Damn! What's taking them so long?!" he unceremoniously grumbled, repeatedly glancing out the bedroom window before asking Matt to go check up on whoever it was they were expecting.



My mind was too caught up in the moment to immediately understand what was going on, but from the general banter that dominated the bedroom, it was plainly obvious that Shane's friends were waiting for someone.


The skater jock's meaty handgag let up as soon as he rose up and set a course for the open window, but my newly freed face was once again immediately taken under siege when the guy who'd zealously taped my ankles up replaced Matt's sizeable palms with a pair of his own.

"Shut the fuck up or I swear I'll make you suck on one of Matt's big smelly old jockstraps." he unsympathetically growled, his tone needlessly menacing even though I hadn't made a single peep during the brief seconds that separated their alternating handgags.


Unending orbits of dreadfully sticky athletic tape continued unabated around my hopelessly incapacitated wrists. I lost count after the thirtieth revolution or so, but the stuff still kept coming around for additional passes. Around and around and around it went.

The harsh dude keeping my mouth in check remained seemingly oblivious to the slight burning of my lungs even as I moaned into his very fleshy hand and struggled to draw air in from behind his frustratingly large palm.

I could only lie there, physically helpless and mentally dazed by the growing realisation that this was no dream or fictional work of the imagination. I was being bound up against my will, and then I was going to be stashed away and probably also gagged so as to prevent me from being able to warn my friend of troublesome Shane's impending escape.



In any case, shaggy-haired Matt stealthily climbed out of the bedroom window upon being tasked with checking up on whoever he and his colleagues were waiting for. But it's only a few moments later, when I heard the sound of subdued cackling coming from outside that I was made privy to the fact that they weren't just waiting on someone, but multiple people.

"Well, well, well. Speakin' of the devil. It took you guys long enough!" the lockpicker quietly cheered, breathing a little easier now that Matt had climbed back into the room, followed by not one but three other jocks; one of whom I instantly recognised as being Shane's cousin Caleb.

Caleb's arrival should've helped ease my fears a little, given how I knew him to be Shane's cousin. But in truth, it didn't. Not with two more brawny jocks spilling into the already crowded bedroom, bringing the count up to a total of nine guys. Nine guys who were all intent on seeing me trussed up. Nine guys who were all intent on seeing me gagged!

"Man, you're fucked." the dude handgagging me sadistically snickered, apparently taking note of my unspoken panic as the cruel tape continued spinning its hateful orbits around my wrists and more college-age jock bros continued spilling in through the open window. In all seriousness, I couldn't agree with him more. I was truly and utterly fucked. Fuck!

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!

[sock slave boy]

I think it will be constant but we want the rest!!
Damn Liam's luck, the contents of Mat's bag seem perfect to me.

[Guardianbound]

Surely Bob will require reinforcements. All these jocks may trap daddy in the medical gurney

[Volobond]

Surely Bob will require reinforcements. All these jocks may trap daddy in the medical gurney

As much as I would love to see Daddy and son equally well gagged, I wonder what would happen if these nine thugs were visited by the wrath of Officer Bob and I'm sure some buddies from his precinct

[GoBucks]

Liam is at the mercy of 9 college jocks?? Bob is going to need quite the army to regain control.

I hope a nice gag is coming soon!

[squirrel]

What an (un)lucky day for poor Liam... Really wonder whose sock/jockstrap/underwear will be chosen for his gag. Matt's sweaty palm is doing a great job silencing the kid, but we all now that he needs more proper and accurate gag to make him quiet for as long as his captors need....

[Red86]

I hope Liam gets his bondage dream a little for filled but I also hope these 9 jocks are not to mean to him or even Sammy. And it would be for the wiser that they don't. Have they forgotten Bob is a cop? This could go down pretty bad for all of them. Even if they just tie Liam up and leave him, that could still count as kidnapping. But locking picking tools leaves us to believe that atleast some of these jocks are up to way more no good then we thought. Sounds like to me, officer Bob may need a few colleagues to help him give all these jocks a proper lesson. Maybe even a few days in actual jail with a few more of restraint chairs would send a message

[Socksbound]

Wonder if Sammy is going to notice Liam is missing and come look for him. Shane and his goons will surely enjoy teasing the two dweebs and make a hasty escape before Officer Bob returns.

Looking forward to Liam being properly gagged in the near future

[OrdinaryWorld]

Oop-! 9 athletic guys in one room? Yes please!

Keen for the next chapter

[Msueta@2]

@bondagefreak My favorite chapter of this story . I would love to do a sniff test and launder Matt's gym bag . That jockstrap looks so yummy .

[Footsub123]

AUTHOR'S NOTE
AS ALWAYS, READING AT A SLOW PACE COMES HIGHLY RECOMMENDED.
RESPECT THE USE OF PUNCTUATION AND PAY CLOSE ATTENTION TO WORDS IN ITALIC LETTERS.
THE EXTRA EMPHASIS YOU PLACE ON THEM WILL GREATLY IMPROVE YOUR COMPREHENSION OF THIS TEXT.

HOUSE ARREST II

THE ADVENTURE CONTINUES

I just couldn't believe it. For weeks, ever since having witnessed the spectacle of Officer Bob trussing his own son and nephew up, I'd been secretly preoccupied with thoughts pertaining to how it would feel being bound up and possibly even gagged for a while. Heck, I didn't just think about it, I fantasised about it! And not only at night, mind you, but during the day as well.

Though many opportunities had presented themselves, I still hadn't worked up the courage to ask Sam if he'd be down for playing such games, mostly out of fear of him thinking me weird for legitimately being curious about it. I'd thought about approaching him with the idea several times, under the believable guise of a YouTube duct tape escape challenge or something, but even so, the thought of opening up to him like that still made me antsy.

You understand, don't you? Yeah, I'm sure you do.

Anyway, never in a million years would I have imagined being manhandled by a group of guys and then being trussed up against my will. And yet, there I was, lying prone on the floor of my best friend's older brother's bedroom, with a 180-pound college-age jock bro sitting on my back and two more brawny Alpha studs menacingly looming above me.



"You got the tape, bro?" the guy straddling my lower back asked, ignoring my muffled attempts at letting him and his colleagues know I didn't need to be taped up or restrained in some fashion.

"Yeah, I think there's some tape inside Matt's bag. God, your bag fuckin' stinks, bro!" the dude sitting closest to my head laughed, unzipping a large duffle bag and rummaging through its clutter for almost a whole minute before eventually turning it upside down and spilling out all of its contents. He was right of course. Matt's bag really did stink.



With my chin propped up against the carpeted floor, I suddenly found myself faced with a veritable mound of smelly laundry, as socks, jockstraps, athletic cups, basketball shoes, boxing gloves, compression shorts and sports equipment of all kinds tumbled out of skaterbro Matt's funky-smelling gym bag.


"Ahh, there we go! That's what I'm talkin' about!" the guy sitting on my back cheered, wasting no time in grabbing one of the several rolls of white athletic tape that had tumbled onto the floor, before mercilessly forcing my arms closer together and beginning the process of taping my hands behind my back.

The tape angrily spun orbit after orbit around my comparatively feeble wrists, but still, its wielder didn't stop. His other colleague - the one who'd emptied the contents of Matt's gym bag onto the floor - eventually found another half-used roll of tape and then eagerly circled to the back of his seated friend before finally crouching down atop my unfettered legs.

"Guys...ugh, guys! You don't need to do this!" I desperately pleaded; adrenaline surging through my veins as warm hands and fingers wrapped themselves around my ankles and forcibly pressed them together. I groaned again when the sticky tape plastered itself against the skin just above one of my socked ankles, and then begged anew in the hopes of convincing Shane's friends that this truly wasn't necessary.

"Guys, I promise I won't tell. Please, you don't need to do this! I swear I wmppphhhh." was all I managed to blurt out before shaggy-haired Matt interrupted my plea by clamping his broad palms behind my head and in front of my face.



"Shhh. Quiet, dweeb. Better stop talking or these guys will turn your mouth into my personal laundry machine." he teasingly warned, putting an end to my verbal appeals but showing nary a hint of concern for the fact that his very sizeable bare palm covered not only my mouth but also my nose and nostrils.

"Haha! You got that right!" the guy still sitting on my back approvingly told his mate; his similarly large hands showing no signs of waning as they busily spun more and more revolutions of sticky tape around my already defeated and hopelessly well-restrained wrists. "Bro, I hope you've got more of this stuff." he at one point added, not so subtly hinting at the fact that he was running out of tape.

"No worries, man. If ever we run out, we can just use some of Kev's." the jock taping my ankle casually assured him, causing the sleeveless muscle-shirt-clad dude who was sitting on Shane's computer chair and keeping an eye on the slightly gaping doorway to turn his head in our direction.

"Yeah, my hockey bag's in the van. Got a few rolls in there if you guys need 'em." the seated bloke somewhat dispassionately mumbled, alerting me to the fact that his name was Kevin - or Kev, for short.


Matt - or Matthew or whatever - eventually released me from his smothering handgag, but much to my continued chagrin, the guy straddling my back still wasn't done taping my wrists up even by the time his buddy had deemed my ankles adequately secured.

"Keep going, bro. Tape him up good." the thick-palmed skater-dude chuckled, wholeheartedly agreeing with his tape-happy buddy's very liberal use of tape.

I could do nothing but lie there and wiggle my toes and fingers around as the able-bodied college jocks trussed me up and prepared me for what was undoubtedly going to be a long-term stashing. I could hear the sound of muffled mmphing as Shane tried to say something past his immensely fat gag, but the guy working on his padlock once again told him to keep his head steady before noticing my unfettered face and ordering his fellow jocks to quickly cover my mouth back up.

"Guys!" he barked, the irritation in his voice easily manifesting even through his subdued tone. "Keep your fuckin' voices down. And cover his fuckin' mouth up!" he ordered, immediately causing skater Matt to hurriedly clamp his sizeable hands around my head and face once more.

"Yeah, cover his mouth. Smother his little face up." one of the other guys approvingly cheered.

"Mmmppphhh."



"How's that lock coming?" one of the jocks eventually asked, to which the bloke trying to pick Shane's lock merely huffed in mild frustration. "It's not coming at all, man. I need those fuckin' lockpicks. Damn! What's taking them so long?!" he unceremoniously grumbled, repeatedly glancing out the bedroom window before asking Matt to go check up on whoever it was they were expecting.



My mind was too caught up in the moment to immediately understand what was going on, but from the general banter that dominated the bedroom, it was plainly obvious that Shane's friends were waiting for someone.


The skater jock's meaty handgag let up as soon as he rose up and set a course for the open window, but my newly freed face was once again immediately taken under siege when the guy who'd zealously taped my ankles up replaced Matt's sizeable palms with a pair of his own.

"Shut the fuck up or I swear I'll make you suck on one of Matt's big smelly old jockstraps." he unsympathetically growled, his tone needlessly menacing even though I hadn't made a single peep during the brief seconds that separated their alternating handgags.


Unending orbits of dreadfully sticky athletic tape continued unabated around my hopelessly incapacitated wrists. I lost count after the thirtieth revolution or so, but the stuff still kept coming around for additional passes. Around and around and around it went.

The harsh dude keeping my mouth in check remained seemingly oblivious to the slight burning of my lungs even as I moaned into his very fleshy hand and struggled to draw air in from behind his frustratingly large palm.

I could only lie there, physically helpless and mentally dazed by the growing realisation that this was no dream or fictional work of the imagination. I was being bound up against my will, and then I was going to be stashed away and probably also gagged so as to prevent me from being able to warn my friend of troublesome Shane's impending escape.



In any case, shaggy-haired Matt stealthily climbed out of the bedroom window upon being tasked with checking up on whoever he and his colleagues were waiting for. But it's only a few moments later, when I heard the sound of subdued cackling coming from outside that I was made privy to the fact that they weren't just waiting on someone, but multiple people.

"Well, well, well. Speakin' of the devil. It took you guys long enough!" the lockpicker quietly cheered, breathing a little easier now that Matt had climbed back into the room, followed by not one but three other jocks; one of whom I instantly recognised as being Shane's cousin Caleb.

Caleb's arrival should've helped ease my fears a little, given how I knew him to be Shane's cousin. But in truth, it didn't. Not with two more brawny jocks spilling into the already crowded bedroom, bringing the count up to a total of nine guys. Nine guys who were all intent on seeing me trussed up. Nine guys who were all intent on seeing me gagged!

"Man, you're fucked." the dude handgagging me sadistically snickered, apparently taking note of my unspoken panic as the cruel tape continued spinning its hateful orbits around my wrists and more college-age jock bros continued spilling in through the open window. In all seriousness, I couldn't agree with him more. I was truly and utterly fucked. Fuck!

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!

@bondagefreak That was amazing Sir. I loved it. Can't wait to see what they make him gag on, and I wonder what's going to happen to poor Sammy when Shane and his buddies get a hold of him.

[bondagefreak]

@bondagefreak My favorite chapter of this story . I would love to do a sniff test and launder Matt's gym bag . That jockstrap looks so yummy .

Wow, I wasn't expecting that. Seeing as how this chapter has been all banter and dialogue, I somehow didn't expect it to resonate with you all that much. Pleasantly surprised! As for sniff-testing and laundering the contents of skater jock Matt's smelly gym bag, surely you won't be able to do that all by yourself! You may need a few partners to keep you company and, more importantly, to help with the laundering

[ShadowHusky]

I am loving the power levels of this unfolding. Really hope Officer Bob gives the boys enough time to get the job done at least ahaha