An Epic Bondage Paintball Weekend (M+/M+) (CH 4 up!) w pictures

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Deleted User 122

An Epic Bondage Paintball Weekend (M+/M+) (CH 4 up!) w pictures

Post by Deleted User 122 »

03/30/19 update: Two chapters now up and all characters are introduced along with their photos!
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An Epic Bondage Paintball Weekend

Description: A group of young men – nine against nine – compete in weekend long paintball game in the woods where enemies are taken prisoner and “interrogated” with plenty of bondage as well as humiliation ranging from smell torture, physical duress, and even homoerotic acts meant to break them. Almost anything goes!

Characters: To help track the players – since there are eighteen of them – you will see bolded all caps for their NAME when they’re first introduced. A picture insert also appears when they are first described.

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Keywords:
Gay interest innocent bondage games encounters roleplay stories bound and gagged sweaty socks smelly underwear and jockstraps forced nudity embarrassment humiliate embarrass humiliated shame abused gear fetish powerplays fighting hazing hazed teasing blindfolded sensory deprivation limits tested smell torture wrestling kinky boys bros jocks military twinks straight dudes guys broey skaters punks bullies rednecks young men legal teenagers male hero fantasy erotic fiction story relationships best friends kissing sock gags light bdsm domination helpless body worship escape challenges hogtied chair tied spread eagle farting spitting simulated rape fondling fondled molesting tickling licking armpits boners erections edging horny sensual foreplay feet foot fetish sneakers shoe fetish sports uniforms outdoors body odor nut shave submission masters and slaves mild torture nipple torment sex tied up tie down with rope and duct taped prisoners captives kidnapping hostages




CHAPTER ONE:

A startling rat-a-tat tat sound of constant gunfire echoed amongst the trees for a few seconds immediately followed by five impact noises. Pop! Pop! Pop pop pop! ETHAN looked down at himself and saw red splatters all over his combat uniform. He’d been hit!

“Fuck!” Ethan exclaimed, removing his protective mask as he brushed the sweaty from his face and buzz cut dark brown hair. He realized he’d been shot multiple times with paintball pellets. He got tagged!

MALACHI, STEVE-O, and BILLY emerged from their hiding point in the woods, wielding their paintball guns over their shoulders, with satisfaction on their faces as they approached their capture. They were members of Team Red-Neck, a group of local older kids – late teens and twenty-somethings – from around the rural community.

Ethan was a player from Team Blue-Dawg, comprised of young soldiers like himself stationed at a nearby marine base.

It was, quite literally, a game of rednecks versus leathernecks!

“We lit ‘em up real nice!” Billy boasted as he and the others took off their sweaty masks, admiring the well-placed splashes of paint all over Ethan’s chest.

“Yea, real skillz, fellas,” Ethan smirked sarcastically “Three against one with incessant fire.”

“Life ain’t fair is it?” Billy teased with his southern drawl.

Billy had several short coils of white, cotton rope fastened to a carabiner at the side of his waist. He produced one of the pieces of rope and ordered Ethan to “turn around.”

“Oh, come on!” Ethan bitched knowing they were going to restrain him.

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Ethan wasn’t too happy being taken prisoner. The boyish faced young man was on the smaller side, but inside he was a confident, slightly standoffish personality. A proud private first class marine ready to jump into manhood.

Ethan’s captors ignored his dissent as Malachi and Steve-O spun him around so Billy could tie Ethan’s hands behind his back.

This was “POW” style paintball where tagged players became prisoners instead of being immediately eliminated. They’d have to survive two hours of captivity under various duress. One of the rules, however, required restraining prisoners only with pre-sanctioned rope so there was an opportunity of escape that things like handcuffs wouldn’t afford. If during captivity, they managed to get free, they were allowed to re-enter the game field before their two-hour detention was up. The challenge was to be as effective as possible when tying up a war hostage.

Therefore, his hands were being tied up nice and tight! There was no room for any namby-pamby symbolic bondage in this game!

Steve-O took off Ethan’s wide elastic, Velcro armband, blue for his team color, and used it to blindfold him. This helped identify him as a captured player so they could remove him from the active playing field in safety.

Billy finished up binding Ethan’s hands. “Tagged and tied!” Steve-O hollered, high-fiving Billy. “You know it!” Billy returned.

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Billy and Steve-O looked and talked like classic redneck boys. They were skinny but muscle toned from a lifestyle of working with their hands in blue collar jobs.

“Dude! Hurts!” Ethan yelled, complaining about the rope around his wrists.

Billy, wearing black, protective gloves, cupped his hand over Ethan’s mouth. “Shut up or we’ll gag you for the walk back!” he warned him.

Ethan’s lips were sealed by the warm, moist neoprene material of Billy’s glove. He was quickly silenced. He decided to settle down, and nodded in compliance.

“Get him back to base, I’ll go solo from here,” Billy instructed his teammates, releasing his hold on Ethan as he began to dash off to the east.

Malachi and Steve-O nodded. As they marched their bound captive west through the wooded area, they hustled. They walkie talkie to camp during their sprint. “Base camp, this is Mac and Steve-O, we caught a fish and bringing it back to fry up!”

“Copy that. Yeeha!!” a voice responded over the scratchy radio signal.

Team camps also served as prison for captured enemies. Ethan knew that’s where he’d be interrogated. He heard the stories about what went on there!

This was a beautiful summer day in a remote, heavily wooded landscape, dense with healthy trees, bushes, and slopping hills. It was a private property owned by the family of one of the Team Redneck players. It had tons of acres and privacy, perfect for this style of scenario paintball, also known as woodsball.

It was, however, hot and muggy so Malachi removed his chest and elbow pads and his camo patterned t-shirt during the jog back. He was unafraid to be shirtless. After all, they were granted “transport mode” status for the next ten minutes which meant they were allowed to move a prisoner to base without fear of being attacked by paintball pellets.

“Still can’t grow any chest hair, huh skinny?” Steve-O ribbed his friend.

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Malachi was around most of their ages, early twenties, but his slender, smooth build, and boyish face with blonde hair made him appear younger, like a white trash version of Justin Bieber. His buddies hazed him all the time for all kinds of things but he took it in stride.

They came across two of Ethan’s teammates and fellow marine privates, NATE and JENSEN, during the journey. At first the soldiers raised their weapons but stood down when they saw it was a prisoner transport situation. In fact, both pairs from these opposing teams took a mutually agreed timeout so they could have a casual chat.

“Congrats, fellas!” Nate said. “Don’t go too easy on our bud,” Jensen laughed, looking at his teammate Ethan tied and blindfolded, flanked by Malachi and Steve-O. Jensen reached out and playfully pinched one of Ethan’s earlobes.

“Thanks,” Malachi responded to Nate. “And don’t worry. We haze the shit out of our detainees,” Steve-O said, responding to Jensen.

When Ethan knew fellow teammates were there, he was a little embarrassed, especially with Jensen being one of them.

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Like Ethan, Jensen was a smaller dude but much cockier. He was one of those broey, bragging types who could be a troublemaker. A former star high school wrestler, Jensen had a nice physique. And though he had kind of a mutt face, he had deep dimples when he smiled or grinned that made him attractive.

“Sharp markers, bro!” Nate remarked referring to Malachi and Steve-O’s paintball guns.

“Tippmann Alpha Black Elite,” Steve-O said showing his weapon.

“Spyder MR100,” Malachi said about his.

“You guys are real ballers,” Nate said.

“Yea, a bunch of us do Mil-Sim matches too,” Malachi said. “But with airsoft guns. Not these paintball rifles.”

“Shit! For real? Respect!” Jensen flattered.

“Yup,” Steve-O proudly beamed.

Indeed, Steve-O and Malachi as well as most members of Team Red-Neck were hardcore nerds for military simulation play, which was a more realistic based form of war roleplay where advanced elements like interrogation tactics were used. Between MilSim and hunting, they were in some ways more skilled than the soldiers they were fighting in this game. The marines nonetheless tended to discount those guys as just local white trash. Real quick, however, the young marines would learn the local boys took paintball seriously and incorporated unique “interrogation” methods of their own that involved stress and humiliation.

Ethan didn’t want to stand there, tied up and blindfolded, having to endure more of this banter. He was so pissed to be in that submissive role. He chimed in with a cocky comment to insult his captors in front of his teammates. “Well, we shoot with real rifles and real ammo,” he bragged.

Ethan quickly discovered a prisoner talking smack was a mistake in this intensive game.

“Shut him up!” Steve-O nodded at Malachi.

Malachi took his sweaty shirt and tied it around Ethan’s mouth to gag him. Unfortunate for him, one of the armpit parts of the shirt landed squarely between Ethan’s lips and sunk into his mouth. He could taste the salty, smelly sweat on his tongue.

“Mph!” Ethan grunted, demonstrating his displeasure from the foul odor. He shook his head and the shirt fall off. It wasn’t an ideal gag because it wasn’t long enough to knot that well. Thank god for him!

Nate leaned in and caught the dirty shirt.

“Thanks. It kind of stinks, I know,” Malachi shyly smiled at Nate as he took his t-shirt. Nate smiled back with a head gesture as if to say “no worries.”

Meanwhile, Jensen was ready with a little prank to help his opponents solve their problem of silencing Ethan. He put his finger to his lips to indicate “Shh!” and unlaced one of his combat boots.

Jensen peeled off a long, black sock from his foot. He stretched the dirty sock out between his hands. It was nice and sweaty. He approached Ethan, unaware of what was coming since he was blindfolded.

“Hey! Mhhh!” Ethan gasped as he felt the smelly sock going between his teeth and being knotted tightly behind his head.

“Sock USMC approved and ready for service!” Jensen laughed.

“Grrrr! Phhfucker!” Ethan grumbled, shaking his head and swirling around his mouth and jaw trying to reject the sock gag.

“What’s a matter? Can’t take even a sock? You’re SOOO gonna break down under interrogation!” Jensen teased Ethan as he sarcastically patted him on the cheek.

It was so damn humiliating for Ethan to get subjected to that treatment. He hated it!

Malachi and Nate, meanwhile, were more preoccupied with looking each other over.

“So, where’s the rest of your gear?” Malachi asked Nate curiously.

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Nate was indeed someone who stood out. While he was in combat boots, and camo BDU pants, his upper body was scantily protected. He wore only a tight, sleeveless green Under Armour compression shirt. It highlighted his physique well. Nate was undeniably a gorgeous blue eyed looking young man. He looked like the idealistic All American with his blonde crew cut hair, high cheekbones, and square jaw. Like a young Channing Tatum.

“Too fucking hot and uncomfortable.” Nate explained. “Sweatin’ balls out here.”

“And, yea, I kinda stink too,” he added looking at Malachi with a warm grin and softer tone.

“Sides’, Paintballs are nothing. I can take it!” Nate snapped back into a more elevated braggadocio tone. He was one of the youngest corporals in the marines, a testament to his strong spirit.

“Yea, you’re a tough one, huh stud?” Steve-O asked with a smirk. “We’ll have to remember that, pretty boy, ha hah.”

They all realized it was late afternoon and the sun was getting low from the west, shooting narrow rays of amber light through the tree foliage. Day one of this epic, two-day paintball excursion was almost over.

The two pairs of warriors wrapped up the banter so they could go their separate ways. Nate and Jensen ruffled Ethan’s sweaty hair and said their goodbyes. “Hang tough, bro! Don’t surrender!” Nate encouraged. “Enjoy my sock!” Jensen laughed. Right before they fled, Nate and Malachi would exchange a last glance of fascination at one another. They both hoped to meet again.

Malachi and Steve-O resumed their fast march through the forest forcing their bound and blindfolded prisoner to keep up with their pace. Ethan groveled degradingly into his dirty sockgag.

--

ELSEWHERE IN THE WOODED BATTLEFIELD…

An intense firefight was afoot. POOTER, a member of Team Blue-Dawg, was engaged with two enemies, PIKE and TOMMY, from Team Red-Neck.

Pike and Tommy were using a leap frog tactic to gain dominance in the battle. They moved around in alternative shifts. While one charged towards Pooter, the other provided cover fire, and vice-versa.

Pooter, however, was an adrenaline junky and loving the one against two challenge. He was running and gunning, openly firing as he sprinted from cover to cover, hiding behind trees.

A few minutes later, during a run and gun, one of his bullets caught Tommy right in the chest. Tagged, Tommy was out. Now it was one on one.

Pike wasn’t fazed. He was every bit the alpha male Pooter was, and kept charging him, openly firing on him now in a similar run and gun tactic.

Pooter boldly ran towards Pike and squeezed the trigger to unleash a spray of pellets on him. Nothing was coming out! “Shit!” he cursed realizing he was out of ammo. He reversed course and ran away and attempted to get another pod of paintball pellets from his harness vest as he fled. Pike was in close pursuit.

Pooter got trapped into particularly difficult area to maneuver. Suddenly, he was trapped and still, “Damnit,” not reloaded.

Pike, seeing his enemy was pinched, stopped his running and now casually strutted over to Pooter. He wanted to relish this moment and toy with Pike.

“Uh, oh! Soldier boy cornered!” Pike said with a laugh.

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Pike was your stereotypical country boy in appearance, demeanor, and lifestyle with an Abercrombie and Fitch like attractiveness. He was broad shouldered, had a swagger, and a masculine drawl. He was a stud. At 26, he was the oldest of the bunch, which made him think he was king of the hill. Pike was loaded with arrogance.

“So, where do you want it? In the nuts? Or eat paint? Choose,” he offered, the latter referring to getting shot in the face mask. “Or you gonna turn around like a little bitch and cower away?” he said raising his weapon.

Pooter laughed back and gave him the finger with both hands. He grabbed himself in the crotch briefly with a tug, went back to standing tall and remained like that, not turning away.

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Pooter was much like Pike; also one of the older boys, every bit the alpha male, and a smart alect. He was a broey type and classically handsome, a Midwest Nebraska boy and clean cut.

“Ok. The nuts it is!” Pike announced, raising his assault rifle and aiming at Pooter’s crotch. “I hope you’re not goin’ commando and got a cup down there!”

As Pike put his finger on the trigger, he added one more taunt.

“Afterwards… so you know. I’m gonna rope you like one of my calves at the rodeo!” he said concentrating on the trigger, keeping aim.

As he was putting the squeeze to his trigger… ZING!! POP!!

Pike was tagged at his head, shot with a pellet squarely on his mask, splattering blue paint all over the visor.

“Oorah!!” a voice in the near distance shouted with the marine battle cry.

“Oorah!” Pooter called back.

From a good distance to the north, a figure jumped from a tree perch and rushed their way. He was in a ghillie suit, a camouflage outfit.

It was KYLE, a member of Team Blue-Dawg, who made the kill. He was in a sniper’s position nearby as it turned out, fortunately for Pooter.

“Yo!!!” Pooter beamed, clasping hands with Kyle. “Sweet!”

Pike removed his paint covered mask and looked truly irritated. Tommy jogged over and joined him.

“You bitches got OWNED!” Pooter hollered to humiliate the others with annoying swag and bluster.

Tommy, nonetheless, complimented the other pair, especially Kyle, in the spirit of good sportsmanship.

“Hey, thanks, man,” Kyle said fist bumping Tommy. Pooter did too.

Pike just scowled, though.

“Woohoo!” Pooter went back to gloating loudly as he pulled out some white cotton rope. “Ok, turn around,” he told Pike and Tommy.

Pooter and Kyle began tying their prisoners’ wrists behind their back.

“Epic shot!” Tommy said turning his head back to Kyle who was busy tying up his hands. “That was like fifty yards range!”

“70,” Kyle corrected him as he put some good criss cross technique into bounding Tommy’s wrists.

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Kyle was a lance corporal sniper in the marines so he had the training. He was a little nerdish but nonetheless a well fit, cornfed boy from Iowa.

“Damn!” Tommy said more impressed with Kyle.

“That’s what marines do!” Pooter boasted as he finished tying up Pike with a square knot. Then he double checked their restraint work.

As Kyle removed their captives’ red armbands, he added for Tommy, “Yea, I studied the specs of the paintball gun. Adjusted the muzzle velocity to comp for distance and impact speed. Calculated trajectory so…”

“Yea yea… enough geekin’ out! You marines think you’re hot shit,” Pike grumbled.

Kyle ignored Pike and completed blindfolding him and Tommy.

Pooter, however, said in an antagonizing tone, “Hey, bumpkin, you know you helped, right? Standing there for so long, allowed my bud to calculate and take his aim, ha hah! Thanks for that!”

Pike had an irked gesture.

As Pooter and Kyle used more rope to now bind their upper arms, above their elbows, Pooter rubbed it in further for Pike. “We dominated you!”

“Yea, not so much you though, right Rambo?” Pike mocked turning his head back at Pooter who was finishing up binding his arms, making the last cinch extra tight to piss him off. “Ugh! Your sniper boyfriend here’s the one with the skills.”

“Boyfriend? Ha hah, you got a smart mouth,” Pooter chuckled.

Tommy, standing arm to arm next to Pike, nudged him and said, “P, chill out, man.”

“Stay off my jock!” Pike yapped.

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Tommy was Pike’s younger cousin. He was competitive and fearless like the rest of the bunch but more restrained, certainly more than Pike. He knew how Pike’s cocky attitude always got him into trouble. He knows, as well, Pike had a chip on his shoulder about the marines who rotated through the local base, feeling they were disrespectful.

“Your buddy can’t learn a lesson, huh?” Kyle said to Tommy as he removed the rest of the rope slack on Tommy’s arms and finished it off with a knot.

“I love it, someone cockier and even stupider than me!” Pooter laughed.

“Maybe cockier, but your dumber, jarhead!” Pike went on.

“Oh man, I’m so gonna put this one into total submission when we get back to camp,” Pooter said. Leaning into Pike’s ear from behind, he added, “I’ll make YOU my boyfriend!” Then he kissed him on the cheek.

“Fuck you fag!” Pike said.

“Yes!” Pooter delighted, hearing more trash talk. “You’re gonna be my puppy dog. I’m gonna lead you around camp on a leash and make you eat from a doggie dish!”

“Yup, homo, and kinky too!” Pike said, unphased.

“Enough out of you,” Pooter declared.

Pooter had just the thing to shut him up good. He pulled out a foamy orange Nerf ball from his backpack and stuffed it into Pike’s yap trap, pushing it deep down all the way in. Then he produced a thick roll of black gaffers tape and wrapped several layers around his Pike’s mouth. It was applied so tight it smashed in his face, slightly deforming it. The tape was used mostly for their weapons but it was as good as duct tape, if not better.

Pike didn’t’ yield his insolence and went to work loosening the tape gag by moving around his jaw. It was starting to free away from his mouth.

Pooter, countered this by grabbing a roll of VetRap bandage, normally used for treating sprains and other injuries. He wrapped the stretchy but strong adhesive bandage around Pike’s head vertically, starting under his chin, over his ears and head, and back down. He spared no expense, generously using most of the role to practically mummify most of Pike’s head which prevented him from moving his jaw. With that and the gaffers tape, it was virtually impossible to remove that gag. With the Nerf ball expanded in his mouth, it suppressed his tongue.

“Pretty. Freakin’. Awesome!” Pooter said.

Pike tried to grunt an obscenity but he was now so well gagged, barely a noise came from his person. Only the sound of his labored breaths through his nostrils was heard.

“By the way, you wondered if I was wearing protection down there?” Pooter said.

Pooter reached into his pants, shuffled around and removed a plastic athletic cup with rubber edges. He placed it over Pike’s face as you would an oxygen mask and held it there!

“Take some deep breaths! My eight-year-old football cup,” Pooter jeered. “It’s been covering my sweaty ball sack ALL day.”

Pike struggled but was held still and forced to inhale the rancid odor, taking it in through his nose. He grunted and groaned.

Tommy stood there, listening and feeling the toil of his poor friend’s grief and just said, “Sorry, Pike. Fuck.”

“Sick, Poot’! Sick!” Kyle laughed.

Pooter replaced his cup back in his pants.

It was high time to get headed back to camp. Pooter and Kyle then tied ropes around Pike and Tommy’s necks like leashes and led them back to base.

Tommy had it fairly easy, escaping the hinderance of a restrictive gag as they were briskly marched through the forest. Because the walk was more than enough exercise for Pike who struggled to breathe properly with his gag, he was now completely cooperative and putting up no more physical fights.

--

MEANWHILE AT CAMP TEAM RED-NECK…

Steve-O and Malachi arrived to their home base with their prisoner, Ethan, kept close in front being shoved forward with the butts of their guns.

The camp was nestled in a gently slopped, wide gully surrounded by heavy brush and trees. It was pretty junky but well stocked. Tents were set up and a campfire was there. A collection of other things made it appear this was a permanent setup used other times. It had a rickety wooden shed, tarps covering various pieces of furniture including a few vintage steel chairs with vinyl padding that was damaged and moldy but otherwise very sturdy.

At Steve-O’s instructions, Malachi removed Ethan’s blindfold so he could see it.

Ethan couldn’t believe his eyes. Two of his teammates, JARED and LANCE, were being held prisoner. They had been stripped down nearly naked and tied up together back to back, or more to the point bare butt to bare ass because Jared was in a jockstrap and Lance’s boxer briefs pulled down to his ankles! Their arms were raised over their heads with wrists tied by ropes that hung from an overhead branch of a tree. They were slightly suspended which forced them to stand on their tip toes to meet the ground. Otherwise they would just sway helplessly like raw beef hanging from a hook in a meat locker.

Their forced nudity and physical agitation was the least of the distress for the young soldiers.

A large dog, a German Shepard mix, was busy licking their toes and feet unmercifully! What looked like chocolate icing coated their feet and gave incentive for the animal to keep those torturous licks coming.

Any attempt to escape the dog’s harrowing tongue attacks meant moving their feet which cruelly sent them swinging off the ground.

They were in continuous jolts of laughter but their mouths had been duct taped which diminished their anguish to muffles.

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The two young marines, bound together and subjected to the same fate, were very different types. Jared was a small, awkward eighteen-year-old runt newly enlisted into the marines, determined to become a man, yet looking exaserbated. Lance was a tall, handsome slightly older soldier and not an easy one to intimidate.

Ethan’s arrival finally caught their attention and they looked over at their teammate. Jared had a pitiful expression. Lance was stoic. Both, however, were dripping beads of sweat down their flesh.

The rules prohibited any form of torture that involved real or sustainable pain. Clearly there were creative ways to get around pain through discomfort or humiliation.


Ethan got genuinely nervous but was trying to bury it underneath. He could always “surrender” which meant giving a signal – snapping the fingers – and it would all stop. This mean, however, elimination from the game and, worse, shaming his teammates.

Two members of Team Red-Neck guarding the base and watching the prisoners, WEASEL and SETH, came over to greet Malachi and Steve-O and their new POW.

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“Gotta say, that little one, is surprising me! I was sure he was going to break from the start!” Seth said referring to Jared, the younger and smaller framed one, as he approached.

Seth was a redhead farm boy with a slow speaking country drawl. Like so many in his group, he was a cocky, tough guy.

“Prime, fresh meat! I’d fuck him!” Weasel jested with an evil grin looking at Ethan as he also approached the arrivals.

Weasel was an interesting, intense dude. He was part redneck, part skater rat and part stoner. Weasel was tall, lanky, goofy looking jokester with a demented side that got him into lots of troube. He didn’t give a fuck about anything but having fun and was capable of doing anything.

“Let’s get ‘em prepped!” Seth said referring to Ethan.

They untied Ethan’s hands but left him cleave gagged with Jensen’s black sock and ordered him to strip to his underwear. He knew resisting was futile so Ethan dutifully took off his boots, camo fatigues, undershirt, and pads. He kept on his jock-strap and long black socks.

When he was done stripping, they quickly retied his wrists but behind his head and secured with more rope around his neck. This forced his arms to wing out, exposing his armpits, and putting Ethan into a more vulnerable position that promoted submission.

Steve-O, Malachi, Seth, and Weasel ominously surrounded Ethan and went right in to a variety of humiliating advances and forms of ridicules meant to test his will. Would he break right away?

For starters, they mocked and teased Ethan about wearing a jockstrap, just like Jared had. It was old jock from his hockey days he had since Freshman year of high school. It was well worn, dingy, and frayed around the edges of the wide waistband. “You piss in this?” they laughed noting the yellowed areas. “Trashed!” they mocked pulling at the back elastic straps and snapping them on his ass. Ethan didn’t flinch. “Look, with a cup!” as they tapped the protective cup inside the pocket over his groin. “That’ll be your drinking cup, then!” “Let’s see what he’s packin’,” Weasel said as he grabbed the waistband and pulled it out. They looked down at his crotch and checked out his dick. Even though he was nicely sized, they nonetheless teased him with insults about how tiny he was.

“Ready to surrender? You will eventually, might as well spare yourself the extra grief that will come. This ain’t nothin’,” Seth asked. “Just snap your fingers!”

Ethan was already tempted. This was only a stupid paintball game and did he really want to endure crazy pseudo homoerotic bullshit? “Fuck this!” he said to himself. From the corner of his eye, however, he saw his teammates looking over and shaking their heads as if to say “Don’t do it. Don’t give up,” even as they endured worse treatment.

TO BE CONTINUED (VERY SOON!)…
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Last edited by Deleted User 122 3 years ago, edited 13 times in total.
gaggedup
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Post by gaggedup »

Love it! @sockgagged
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DeeperThanRed
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Post by DeeperThanRed »

You didn't disappoint, story started out great. With so many characters in game, I'm curious to see where things will go.
Good job, can't wait to read the rest.
College dude. Likes cute guys, underwear, and bondage, preferably together.

You can reach my list of written work here: viewtopic.php?p=38808#p38808
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Post by Deleted User 122 »

DeeperThanRed wrote: 3 years ago You didn't disappoint, story started out great. With so many characters in game, I'm curious to see where things will go.
Good job, can't wait to read the rest.
[mention]DeeperThanRed[/mention] Thank you much for saying that!

I know the first chapter is a little dense and doesn't jump in to all the "good stuff" but Chapter Two is coming today and hopes to satisfy even more. :)
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Post by GoBucks »

Awesome story! I really appreciate how you go through the trouble of giving us pictures of each person, especially in a story with as many guys as this one.

Jensen is a cruel dude! How could he betray one of his fellow marines like that by gagging him with his dirty sock?

Pike got what he deserved. Has he learned nothing from watching villains ramble on and on and then have their plans ruined because they didn't just go in for the kill? Excited to see him become Pooter's pup :lol:

Really looking forward to more. I was hard the whole time reading this ;)
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Post by Deleted User 122 »

GoBucks wrote: 3 years ago Awesome story! I really appreciate how you go through the trouble of giving us pictures of each person, especially in a story with as many guys as this one.

Jensen is a cruel dude! How could he betray one of his fellow marines like that by gagging him with his dirty sock?

Pike got what he deserved. Has he learned nothing from watching villains ramble on and on and then have their plans ruined because they didn't just go in for the kill? Excited to see him become Pooter's pup :lol:

Really looking forward to more. I was hard the whole time reading this ;)
Thanks go bucks,

Glad you’re liking so far. I always appreciate positive reinforcement! ESP liked your last sentence heh heh.

As for pictures, I just updated the posting to include larger individual character photos when they’re first introduced so it’s better illustrating who they are.... going forward I’m gonna do chapters that way. More characters still to come!

J
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Post by Carnath »

I just read the first two sub-chapters, and I already LOVE that :D
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Post by RopedBud »

I'm definitely enjoying the story so far! I read it last night and will say that I'm so glad you included larger pictures for the people when introducing them for it made it alot easier to imagine what was happening to them. Literally my favorite part so far is the part when l Jensen takes his sock off and gags Ethan with it and then taunts him shortly after! Really interested in seeing what these guys get into next!
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Post by Deleted User 122 »

chloroboy wrote: 3 years ago I just read the first two sub-chapters, and I already LOVE that :D
Thanks chloroboy! :)
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Post by Deleted User 122 »

RopedBud wrote: 3 years ago I'm definitely enjoying the story so far! I read it last night and will say that I'm so glad you included larger pictures for the people when introducing them for it made it alot easier to imagine what was happening to them. Literally my favorite part so far is the part when l Jensen takes his sock off and gags Ethan with it and then taunts him shortly after! Really interested in seeing what these guys get into next!
Yea on the pics I thought it would help! There are so many guys.

As for Jensen... since you bring him up and that moment, he is based on a real guy I knew years ago and he's the type that would do that sort of thing. :) Sock gags are the best... no surprise I say that given my username.

ANY WHO... TONIGHT THE NEXT CHAPTER GOES UP!
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Post by Valimure »

As always, a very "real" feeling story with more detail than we could ever ask for! Love the pictures, and glad you added them as they appeared (I saw the original version as well that only had the collage at the top, and I had to keep scrolling back up to figure out who was who!)

Can't wait to see these guys get interrogated. Keep it up!
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Post by Deleted User 122 »

CHAPTER TWO


OVER AT CAMP TEAM BLUE-DAWG…

Prisoners Tommy and Pike had been marched back to Blue-Dawg’s camp, led on their rope leashes by Pooter and Kyle. Pike, the tough stud with the arrogant attitude, was a mess. He suffered on that walk, restricted in his breathing since only his nostrils provided air for his lungs during the strenuous exercise . He was also burning up and dripping in sweat.

Pooter and Kyle saw their teammate, BAILEY, further into the camp a few yards away. He was knelt down next to someone on the ground who had been duct taped head to toe like a mummy. He smiled and quietly waved at them, keeping close by to whomever was unmercifully mummified.

Pooter attended to Pike’s near dire situation. As he removed the stretchy VetRap bandage vertically wrapping Pike’s face, he warned him to behave or he’d stay gagged. Pike begrudgingly nodded.

Once the bandage was clear, Pike could move his jaw around.

“You do the rest, get that tape off your mouth. I know you can, ha ha,” Pooter said.

Pooter and Kyle went about stripping down their prisoners.

Tommy and Pike’s padded chest protectors and camo shirts were lifted over their heads and settled over their necks since their arms remained bound. They were stripped off their boots, socks, and pants.

Tommy and Pike were kept standing side by side, still blindfolded, in only their underwear. They both had adequate body hair. Tommy’s ran down in a thin stream from the sternum, past his belly button, and continuing into a happy trail that disappeared beneath his plaid boxers. Dylan’s hair gathered in a healthy nest covering his chest, especially around his large pepperoni sized nipples.

Kyle and Pooter began the “interrogation” on their prisoners…

Kyle pinched Tommy’s oval shaped nipples hard and twisted them. Then he randomly tugged at his chest hairs. Tommy flinched, jerked, and quietly yelped but stayed in place, accepting that there was little to stop it.

Pooter, however, chose a more homoerotically charged psychological mind fuck on Pike!

The handsome, muscular Pike wore a pair of white sports compression shorts; known as baseball sliders. They neatly contoured around his thick thighs and large bubble butt.

“Sexy!” Pooter chuckled, focusing his attention on those nylon spandex sliders.

Pooter dipped his fingers just barely underneath the form tight baseball compression shorts; gliding them across, between Pike’s waistband and tight abs. “So what position do you play?”

Pike angrily growled into his gag as he jerked around his head to free the tape. He was also secretly working at the ropes tied around his arms and wrists.

“Just snap your fingers. Either of you. Surrender and this all stops!” Pooter reminded their prisoners.

Neither Tommy or Pike would budge.

Pooter then softly groped Pike by cupping his hand over the crotch where there was a bulging outline of his cock and balls. “Are you a pitcher?” he asked.

He turned Pike around and, in a sensual impersonating manner, rubbed his hands over the Lycra spandex fabric covering his ass. Then, he pressed his fingers between his buttocks, probing mildly into the sheer fabric. He glided them along the crack line following the distinctive, darkened stain left from butt sweat. “Nah., I bet you’re a catcher,” he said with a mocking voice.


Pike finally freed the gaffers tape from his face as it rested around his neck. He spit out the spongey orange Nerf ball and first had to take unimpeded deep breaths of air.

“Why don’t you bend over and find out?” Pike remarked back, growling.

“I’d bend over YOUR fucking ass first, but you’re too rank down there!” Pooter chuckled wiping his fingers laced with crotch and butt funk on Pike’s face!

Kyle just shook his head at his teammate and said, “Poot’, you two should just get a room!”

They ultimately gave Pike and Tommy a break, however, and said it was time to hydrate, including the prisoners.

“Yo! Beetle!” Pooter yelled out towards Bailey, using his nickname, who was still closely watching the unknown mummified captive.

“Shh!” Bailey indicated with a finger to his lips. He quietly got up from his position and joined their huddle at the camp entrance.

“What up with King Tut?” Pooter nodded over at the motionless mummified person in their camp.

“That’s their boy JIMMY,” Bailey smiled.

Tommy and Pike’s perked up when they heard one of their teammates was there with them. “Bendi!” Tommy shouted, using Jimmy’s nickname.

“That won’t do any good,” Kyle laughed.

Tommy and Pike’s blindfolds were finally removed so they could get a look for themselves.

Situated at the other corner of Blue-Dawg camp was, apparently, their friend Jimmy. He had been mummified head to toe in gray duct tape. Not an inch of him was spared from encasement except for his nose, his only source of respiration. Additionally, he had been strapped down with belts tied to stakes pounded into the forest ground. And last, a set of headphones were placed over his head.

Bailey explained it was a total immobilization and depravation challenge. He made Jimmy a deal. He’d shorten his two-hour detention to only a thirty minute one if he could survive that ordeal. Jimmy took it in a heartbeat according to Bailey.

“Fuck!” Pike yelled, not approving of what he saw. “Not cool, he doesn’t even look like he’s breathing,” Tommy agreed but more calmly.

Pike tried to make a run towards Jimmy which was of course futile. Quickly, Kyle and Pooter stopped him and pressed him face to face with Tommy. They tied some rope around them forcing the two to remain bound together.

“No, he’s chill. I think the dude’s gonna make it! Just ten more minutes!” Bailey responded sounding impressed with the prisoner.

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Bailey was a conservative looking, cute frat boy type who joined the marines after college because he wanted to be an officer like his father. He was pretty levelheaded and responsible but happily found much of this bizarre paintball game similar to his fraternity days.

“He must be hot as shit under there dude!” Tommy warned.

Indeed, it was almost 100 degrees Fahrenheit and Jimmy wasn’t even in the shade. Bailey decided the other prisoner had a point and would free him.

Pooter walked over with Bailey to free Jimmy from his mummification.

Kyle stayed with the other captives so he could help them drink plenty of water.

As Jimmy’s headphones were removed, the annoying sound of white noise was heard. Bailey leaned down and loudly told Jimmy that although he had eight minutes, he was stopping the punishment challenge. He was free to go and resume the paintball game!

Jimmy, surprisingly, protested. He shook his head and managed to make an audible enough grunt of disapproval. He wanted to finish up his time!

“Another proud hillbillie!” Bailey exclaimed.

Bailey and Pooter knelt close to Jimmy and placed their palms over his duct taped body to see how warm he was. Jimmy was but they determined probably not too much to put him in any real danger.

In fact, Pooter wanted to have some fun and “test his commitment.”

Bailey positioned himself behind Jimmy’s head facing away and crouching down. He lifted his butt over Jimmy’s face and drew it down just millimeters over his nose. Then, after a couple of minutes of effort, he farted! The fart was one of the silent but deadly kind!

A few moments later, a nasty, awful gas stench was hovering, a smell like stale corn or rotten eggs.

Jimmy fidgeted around best he could in his tape bondage, clearly getting maximum exposure to the disgusting vapor, taking fast breaths through his nose.

Tommy and Pike, tied together chest to chest, helplessly looked on as their buddy couldn’t escape the ordeal.

Jimmy, though, stopped squirming and calmed down. He took deep, but normal breaths, through his nostrils. He gave no sign of giving up, which in his case was designated as three distinctive grunts.

“You do something,” Pooter nudged at Bailey.

Bailey removed his boot and placed his socked foot over Jimmy’s face with the toes between his nose, wiggling them around. The cotton material was moist and sweaty but not stinky. Bailey’s hygiene was too good! Jimmy didn’t even flinch.

“I know what to do!” Pooter then said. He turned back to Kyle and yelled, “Give me dickheads underwear!”

Kyle yanked down Pike’s sweaty compression shorts! Pike protested but couldn’t do a lot about it being tied to Tommy. His naked junk was now, as a matter of fact, pressing against Tommy’s groin. Only Tommy’s thin boxer material shielded these straight guys from bumping each other’s testicles.

Kyle tossed over the baseball sliders to Pooter…

Pooter found the most pungent area of the sweaty, smelly compression shorts. He gave Bailey a brief whiff who agreed with a gasp of, “Gross!”

Pooter placed the sweaty baseball sliders over Jimmy’s face and situated the spandex fabric until the crotch and guch portion were right over Jimmy’s nose.

“Smell the aroma. That’s your buddy Pike’s crotch sweat! His ball butter!” Pooter chuckled.

Jimmy shook around his head as he tried to squirm away even more than before but the tight straps made him powerless.

The poor guy would have to endure that nasty odor. His teammates could even hear his strong breaths taking it in.

“Just give up! We’ll still let you go free by the way!” Pooter said, tempting their prisoner more.

After a minute or so he stopped his struggles and deeply sighed. Jimmy laid there like a champ putting up with the funky smell torture. He wouldn’t surrender.

The timer eventually went off and Jimmy had conquered the ordeal!

Tommy and Pike, being force fed more and more water oddly by Kyle, watched the final moments and were astonished by their teammate.

“By the way, man,” Tommy told Kyle between water feedings. “I really gotta piss!”

“That’ll come. Promise,” Kyle smiled. “We don’t punish normal bodily functions!”

Jimmy was cut out of his duct tape casting with the aid of Pooter and Bailey using scissors. Jimmy stepped out and his body was beet red, flushed. His Fruit of the Loom boxer briefs were soaked so he stripped them off, going nude. Sweet pooled in the casting.

Pooter and Bailey genuinely congratulated their former enemy captor for being so “hardcore.” They walked Jimmy back to the others.

Jimmy stood proud and confident, butt naked, in front of his Team Red-Neck buddies. He was, surprisingly, in jovial, good spirits. He even admitted it was “a lot of fun” except for Pike’s jock in his face.

Image

Jimmy was a dreamy looking, dark eyed young man with a slight pug nose and an athletic frame. He had soft milky skin lightly dotted with freckles.


When he was told he also made it “under the wire” by finishing at 6:52pm before ceasefire at 7pm, he was elated.

Jimmy explained to Pike and Tommy, who apparently weren’t listening too closely to the rules that morning, what that meant. Anyone caught with less than two hours before ceasefire at 7pm, could be held overnight by the enemy camp! More than the sanctioned two hours!

“What the fuck!!” Tommy shouted.

“Bullshit! No fucking way! Ain’t gonna happe… grffffm… mmmph!” Pike also started to shout before being silenced.

Tommy and Pike were gagged with duct tape to shut them up.

Jimmy smiled, somewhat sympathetically, and shrugged his shoulders. His former captors gave him a towel to dry himself off. He suited back up in his combat gear and dashed off to the east.

“Yo, fellas!” Kyle said getting his teammates’ attention and grabbing Tommy’s face. “This one has to pee REAL bad!”

Pooter and Bailey smiled and looked at Kyle, then Tommy and Pike. The three Blue-Dawg boys laughed wickedly. Huh, Tommy and Pike wondered?

--


MEANWHILE, SOMEWHERE IN THE WOODS…

A bound and gagged teenaged boy attached to a tree whimpered in one heck of a degrading state.

This was OSCAR, the youngest of all the players at sixteen years old, and a member of Team Blue-Dawg.

He had been stripped nude of all his combat gear, even his boots and socks! His underwear, a pair of tighty-whities, were firmly knotted around his head as a gag.

Oscar had been tied with his arms and ankles wrapped around the trunk putting him into a very unpleasant tree hug. His exposed front was pressed tight against the rough bark.

He looked and sounded humiliated as he hopelessly struggled with the ropes.

His bare ass was bright red. Written over his butt cheeks was the word “PUSS” in magic marker.

About two hours earlier, this wasn’t how he was originally detained. He had been simply seated against the tree with his hands comfortably tied behind it and his armband as a blindfold. Still dressed and facemask on. He had been left for safekeeping by his captor, Dylan, who wanted to get some more combat time in the field before returning him to camp. Early in that captivity, however, a stranger had come upon him and inflicted embarrassing mischief on the young boy.

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The poor kid wasn’t supposed to be allowed to play this intensive paintball game meant for older boys. Oscar was the younger brother of Lance, one of the marines from Blue-Dawg, who begged to join the excursion. He idolized his big brother and even entered the ROTC program in high school. He was a small framed cherub who wanted to be like his big bro. After constant badgering, and a last minute cancellation, Lance had agreed to let Oscar fill in as the ninth member of their squad.

Eventually, DYLAN returned to the forest area where he had left Oscar. He was shocked to see the boy trussed up like that.

Dylan took off his blindfold and tried to remove the under cleave gagging the kids mouth but it was knotted to tight. He shimmied it down around his neck instead.

As he went about untying the youth, Dylan asked if he was okay and what happened in a concerned disposition. He didn’t like seeing that he had been mistreated by one of his own Red-Neckers, assumingly.

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Dylan was early twenties but wise beyond his years and refreshingly level headed compared to most of his redneck rascal buddies. Naturally confident, he commanded respect from his circle. He was an attractive, masculine, quietly spoken young man. Dylan was athletically built and slightly stock.

Oscar hesitated to speak about what took place but after Dylan insisted, all he would say was someone snuck up on him. The stranger never spoke. He was manhandled, stripped, and retied facing the tree. The mysterious person spanked him and whipped him with tree twigs. Then he felt something being written on his butt he said.

When Dylan pointed out “PUSS” was written on his ass, Oscar then immediately knew it was his brother! He always called him that. He kept it to himself however. He didn’t want to be tattletale.

After he was free of the ropes, Oscar stood away and Dylan saw the kid’s tender, smooth body was scratched an cut up in all kinds of places from the rough tree bark, even his face from trying to rub off the underwear.

“Let’s clean up those scrapes so you don’t get infected,” Dylan suggested.

Oscar was so embarrassed to be standing naked before the older boy. The only thing on his body was his ripped underwear tied around his neck. He cupped his hands over his genitals. Dylan smiled and said, “It’s ok.”

Dylan took a bandana from a pocket, soaked it with some water, and began to clean Oscar up a bit to remove any dirt or debris from the cuts. Oscar stood there sheepishly but thanked him.

He noticed the rope burn around Oscar’s wrists, lower back, and ankles. “You got tied up pretty good. I’m sorry, little man.”

“It’s ok,” Oscar managed to smile.

Dylan then asked where his clothes were so he could get dressed.

“I think they took them,” Oscar said.

“That fucker!” Dylan growled.

“Here,” Dylan said as he kicked off his combat boots and removed his BDU pants. “You can wear these.”

Dylan was chivalrous as he stood there in his combat vest and gray boxer briefs, clutching his pants, and insisting the boy take them.

Oscar finally slipped them on but Dylan’s pants were so big, tightening the belt all the way still didn’t prevent them from sagging.

Dylan offered to remove his shirt to but Oscar said it was probably better because it might chafe the cuts on his upper body.

Dylan then helped the boy remove his underwear around his neck using his hunting knife to cut it off. He stuffed the briefs into the kid’s front pocket and smiled, “Bring out what you bring in, rules of the wilderness.”

It was getting darker so it was time to get moving back to camp. There was the dilemma of Oscar walking through the wilderness barefoot. He insisted, however, he was ok.

Oscar also insisted not being treated special because he didn’t want to get made fun of so he also insisted that he be treated like a prisoner and have his hands tied.

Dylan chuckled at the kid’s strong will and consented. He tied his hand in front of him but not too tight.

As they started to march east, though, Oscar couldn’t help avoid limping. Not only was he barefoot but he apparently sustained an injury – spraining his ankle – when he had tried to flee his brother before he could remove his blindfold. He had tripped and fell earlier.

Again, Dylan asked if he was sure he didn’t know the “asshole” that did this to him. Again, Oscar shrugged, not revealing it was his brother.

Dylan offered to carry him. Oscar insisted he’d be okay but Dylan won’t take no for answer.

“You got guts, little man. But you’re not walking like that,” Dylan confidently stated.

He picked Oscar up and hoisted the small framed boy across his shoulders, like a fireman’s tow.

Dylan gallantly carried Oscar and the two made their way to Team Red-Neck.

TO BE CONTINUED…
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Post by GoBucks »

Another great chapter!

Jimmy was a trooper putting up with that stinky gas and Pike's gross baseball shorts. I wonder why the guys had evil grins when they found out that Tommy has to piss. I'm kind of scared to find out!

I can't believe Oscar's brother could be so cruel to strip his brother naked and physically beat him. Maybe it was a friend of his brother's who knows what he calls Oscar? I just can't see an older brother who is idolized by his younger brother hurting him like that.
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Post by Deleted User 122 »

CHAPTER THREE:

BACK AT THE RED-NECK CAMP…

It was quieter in the forest gully of the Red-Neck camp. Most of young men previously there had since left. Jared and Lance, having survived the tickling ordeal, were released and returned to the battlefield. Seth and Steve-O, after giving the former prisoners several minutes to flee, took off in pursuit of more enemies to tag and capture.

Malachi and Weasel were the only Red-Neck players at camp. They were enjoying the serene atmosphere, listening to the sound of the breeze through the trees of the wilderness as the sun was starting to set. The young men were kicking back in folding chairs around the dormant campfire as they drank beers, clutching their paintball rifles. Weasel was also smoking a fat blunt.

They weren’t alone, however. Ethan, the enemy capture from Team Blue-Dawg, was still there. He hadn’t surrendered after all. The young marine was too proud.

He was tied up in a stress position called a “reverse prayer” that forced him down on his knees and prevented him from moving. His arms were bound behind his back with his hands tied together between his shoulder blades. Another rope, tied around his ankles, ran up to his neck as a noose with virtually no slack! Still stripped down to his jockstrap, the young man lightly trembled with discomfort that started to develop.

He could only look at and listen in silence to his captors because the lower half of his face was taped up. His mouth gagged with a durable adhesive cloth tape printed in a camo pattern. It was Weasel’s hunting tape.

Weasel, while he sipped beer and smoked weed, periodically thru pebbles and dirt clogs at helpless Ethan just to fuck with him. Weasel was an interesting character. Part redneck, part skater rate, and part stoner. He was a tall, lanky, goofy looking dude who didn’t give a fuck about much of anything but having fun and expressing himself as he pleased.

As Malachi swigged his beer, he thought to himself how the sight of Ethan bound up like that should turn him on. Malachi had a secret. He was gay and even a little kinky. Ethan was undeniably cute but similar to himself. He was attracted to another type, which Nate from Team Blue-Dawg fitted into.

“Fuck! Mac, bro! I stink!!” Weasel laughed as he smelled his armpits and sniffed his dingy, dirty wife beater undershirt.

This snapped Malachi away from his thoughts and he laughed, not doubting his friend. One thing about Weasel, he was an “all natural” guy who didn’t wear deodorant and often skipped showers.

His BO inspired a cruel idea in Weasel…

Weasel brought up a special challenge for Ethan, lasting only five minutes, that would free him from his stress position and shave off the rest of his detention time. If he accepted. Even more tempting, if the prisoner succeeded, he would be free to return to his headquarters afterwards without having to stay overnight in enemy camp! Ethan eagerly nodded even without knowing the details.

Weasel had Malachi cut loose the rope that wrapped around his neck and ankles.

“Scoot your butt over here!” Weasel then yapped at Ethan. The still mostly bound prisoner shimmied over to Weasel’s chair on his knees.

Weasel leaned into Ethan with a big grin on his goofy, narrow face and said, “Give me a good tongue bath for five minutes, and you’re free to go!”

Ethan didn’t seem to catch what he said, looking confused.

Weasel pulled off his dirty tank-top. His long, skinny redneck body was sheeted in perspiration mixed with a little dirt and grime.

“Lick my body real clean like so I don’t stink anymore!” Weasel added with a southern boy drawl.

“Phhfucck mmnoo!” Ethan mumbled through his gag rejectingly.

Weasel then yanked down his sweatpants, spread his legs, and shoved Ethan’s face down into his crotch! Ethan shook and bobbled his head but Weasel kept it smashed into his crotch, buried in his dirty underwear.

“Mmphm! Mmphh!” Ethan grunted forced to sniff Weasel’s musty, sweaty crotch through his ratty boxer briefs.

“Wease…” Malachi intervened.

“What?” It ain’t like he’s TOUCHING my jewels!” Weasel laughed.

He pulled Ethan’s head back up and looked down at his underwear. Weasel’s blue BVDs were so worn, there was a gaping hole that revealed the flesh of his hairy nut sack practically falling out!

“Oh, well maybe he was,” Weasel chuckled.

After being threatened to have his face plowed once more between Weasel’s lap, Ethan finally consented to the 5-minute body worship challenge.

Weasel leaned back in the camping chair, with his hands folded behind his head in a relaxed manner and ordered Ethan to lick from the bottom and work his way up.

his belly button first and work his way up.

Once his tape gag was removed, but still restrained in a reverse prayer, Ethan reluctantly began.

Ethan pressed his tongue into Weasel’s happy trail just above his underwear. He ran it up the line of hair to his belly button. He basically stopped there, unanimated, so Weasel popped him in the head and told him to put in some effort and get busy. Ethan begrudgingly did. Then, on his orders, worked his way up and around Weasel’s skinny torso, tasting the salty sweat and grime around his washboard stomach with his tongue. It was unpleasant but manageable. Next, he was directed to move up to his chest where things got a little more unpleasant because feeling the body hairs reminded Ethan he was licking another dude! He could also smell the ripe odor of his exposed armpits on either side becoming stronger.

Weasel was really loving this, having a content expression as he closed his eyes relaxing back in the chair.

Ethan was allowed some water, not to wash out his mouth, but to activate more saliva so he could do a better with the cleaning!

Three minutes of licking Weasel’s sweaty torso and chest had passed but it seemed like hours. Sweat, dirt, and grime filled his mouth. Ethan knew only two more minutes though, and he was home free!

“Now.. for the good stuff!” Weasel soothed. “You know where to go. Get over here!” he teased as he nudged his right arm folded back.

Ethan sighed and slowly scooted over to Weasel’s right side of the chair. He stared at Weasel’s right armpit. It deeply contoured underneath his arm and was covered with a thick bush of black wiry armpit hair. It stank already from a foot away.

Weasel got himself even more comfortable, eagerly awaiting the attention. “Come on, pausing doesn’t count against your time,” he said.

Ethan groaned a little but leaned in to get on with it. He planted his face into the warm, moist pit and touched his tongue through the nest of hair. “Gross!” he could be heard muttering as he halfheartedly danced his tongue around the putrid cavity.

“You can’t just do the tip, you gotta flat tongue it, bro!” Weasel told him.

Holding his breath, Ethan pressed his tongue against the armpit and sank into the sweaty, furry bristles of hair. The rank flavor coated his taste buds, nearly making him puke. It was so foul.

“Nasty, phew!” Ethan gagged spitting out of his mouth for a moment.

“Get back in ‘thar. Lot’s more tongue too!” Weasel responded excitingly.

Ethan returned to the nasty business of cleaning out the funk from Weasel’s stinky pit as Weasel moaned with content. It was rare a straight guy would enjoy something that was essentially an intimate act.

Malachi, in a way, envied his uninhibited personality although Weasel was crazy.

Ethan managed to survive the smelly armpit on the right for a whole minute by carefully holding his breath as he was licked and lapped to Weasel’s satisfaction. He scurried over to the left side to finish off the other one.

As he dug into Weasel’s final sweaty armpit, he accidently inhaled the sharp pit odor with his nose buried into all that bacteria laced hair. It was so overpowering he was going to vomit. He pulled away and, losing his balance since he as tied up, fell to the ground.

“Tap out! Tap out!” he said spitting out of his mouth several times.

With only a few seconds to go, Ethan lost the challenge. He’d remain captive at Team Red-Neck’s camp for the night!

Weasel laughed casually as he took a last drag of his weed.

He stood up from the chair, looking a little stoned, and said, “I’m gonna go jerk off in my tent and take a nap, ha hah!” He left the campfire area.

Now just the two of them, Malachi helped Ethan off the ground and put him on his knees. Dirt and debris were all over his half-naked body and jockstrap. He brushed him off a bit.

Ethan moderately groaned, reeling a bit from the burn of the ropes pinching his arms and wrists from the fall.

Malachi inspected Ethan’s restraints and adjusted them a little.

He took it very easy on Ethan and fed him water, which, half the time Ethan would spit back out trying to clear all the rank residue of Weasel’s armpits from his mouth. It coated his tongue and gums! There were even pieces of curly, tight hairs caught between his teeth!

“Could have been worse. Wease’s feet are the real horror show!” Malachi attempted to comfort the defeated player.

Ethan’s face was flushed from embarrassment but quickly recovered himself.

“Well, I already had socks for lunch,” Ethan managed to joke, referring to Jensen’s little prank with the cleave gag.

“You guys obviously have a history,” Malachi said.

“Yea, Jensen and I are from the same town. He and his wrestling teammates assaulted my little brother because he was gay,” Ethan replied. “I punched him in the face when I found out.”

“Good for you,” Malachi started to say, impressed.

“Then he kicked my ass worse,” Ethan admitted. “We’re sorta cool now but he’s still a jerk.”

“I’ll keep him in my crosshairs for you,” Malachi offered.

“You’re alright,” Ethan smiled.

TO BE CONTINUED…
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Post by GoBucks »

Lucky Ethan! I love licking a guy's body. Never actually licked one that was all sweaty though, but I really want too :P
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Post by Deleted User 122 »

CHAPTER FOUR:

SOME TIME LATER AT CAMP RED-NECK…



This first day of extreme paintball had finished up and night was falling. Members of Red-Neck made their way back, some with shiny new trophies from a good day of hunting, that is to say more captured players from Blue-Dawg.

Malachi, meanwhile, had to wake Weasel up so he could help process everyone. As he escorted Ethan, still bound in reverse prayer, they approached Wease’s tent. Malachi and Ethan found the tall dopey dude snoring up a storm.

The most prevalent greeting upon arrival was Weasel’s intense foot odor hovering around the front of the tent.

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Weasel left his beat up, old sneakers just outside the mesh flap. They were a pair of Osiris basketball shoes he owned for years and pretty much were his exclusive footwear! They were trashed. The insider fabric, once off white, were so dirt and odor stained they were practically dark grey.

Weasel’s big feet stuck out of the tent as he wore his dirty Hanes tube socks.The socks weren’t quite as old as his high-tops but far far more offensive. The damp, stinky socks were drying out in the breeze and becoming all crusty and crunchy.

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It gave Malachi and idea he shared with Ethan. They’d heard over the walkie talkie Jensen was tagged in the field and on his way over as a prisoner. They’d enlist Weasel to torment him with those socks and sneaks. Ethan approved!

Dylan, freshly arrived back, wandered over to the pair in front of Weasel’s tent. Malachi filled him in on the dastardly deed but Dylan thought that was too much. He said Weasel’s hygiene was so bad down there, all kinds of “dangerous bacteria” must be festering. He seemed serious. He had no problems with all the “smell torture” antics boys played but this was “a bridge too far” in his opinion.

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Malachi, like the other friends of their group, respected Dylan so much he took his advice. He sighed and told Ethan they’d have to come up with another payback for Ethan’s teammate.

An hour later, still at Red-Neck camp…

Night had come to the woods and a nice fire flickered, illuminating camp. Sounds of laughter, smells of smoke. Rap music played in the background, currently a Machine Gun Kelly track.

The young country boys of Red-Neck were in good spirits, drinking beer and exchanging stories of their day. The German Shepard dog, Foxy, salivated nearby their huddle, wanting some of the pork and beans they ate. Seven of their nine players were there. Only two of their buds were prisoners over at Blue-Dawg camp.

Most of these local boys were rid of their sweaty camo wear and stinky pads which hung around their respective tents by clothespins. They were all shirtless and clad in either shorts, sweatpants, or even just underwear! Well, Weasel was in his undies and barefoot! He was proud white-trash.

Red-Neck also held five Blue-Dawg prisoners, the young soldiers from the nearby marine base. Ethan and Oscar, of course, were there but now Jensen which made Ethan happy. Lance as well who was unfortunately re-captured in the battlefield just before end of day ceasefire. This made Oscar happy. Nate was supposed to be the fifth one but wasn’t in sight.

Where was Nate, thought Malachi? He wondered intently but was afraid it would be too conspicuous if he asked.

Three of the hostages from the game – Lance, Jensen, and Ethan – were currently tied up to the musty, old office chairs that were permanently stored there. Now it was clear why. Generous amounts of rope bound their wrists, ankles, legs, and even wrapped around their bare chests to the sturdy steel frame. They were placed close together so their chairs were in a row.


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Tied up tight and stripped down to their underwear, the young marines took it in stride, however. It appealed to the adventurous, competitive nature most boys had.

In fact, the restrained prisoners participated in the various casual conversation with their captors and got fed sips of beer and pork n beans by the spoonful. They had been spared of blindfolds and gags.

At one of the tents, young captive Oscar was being treated for his injuries. Dylan and another older boy from Red-Neck, Jimmy, were fixing up the lad. Dylan made a cold compress with ice inside a cloth and had the young man hold it against his red lashed buttocks and helped him sit on a cot. Jimmy was holding up the boy’s foot and wrapping his ankle with VetRap ace bandage.

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Malachi briefly entered the tent to give Oscar an extra pair of his clothes; underwear, sweatpants, and a white t-shirt. The teenaged kid was closer to his size than Dylan’s larger frame.

Once more, they did their best to make Oscar provide a name or more detail on who attacked him. The kid wouldn’t give up his older brother, Lance.

The older boys told Oscar to just rest up and take it easy for the night. The young man, however, again refused any kind of special treatment, as he explained it might lose him respect with his teammates. They conceded his point and were impressed with the little dude’s dedication.

Oscar was escorted to his other teammates waiting on an extra chair that he’d be tied to just like them.

His brother Lance asked, “Are you okay lil’ bro?”

Oscar tried to contain his anger but burst out, “Asshole! You have a lot of nerve!”

The kid started wailing on his big brother, punching his defenseless body as he was tied to the chair.

Dylan rushed over and stopped him. Lance grunted and said “WTF?” Dylan wanted to know too, why.

Oscar still wouldn’t reveal the reason and tried to move on. Dylan, however, figured it out and said aloud that Lance was the mysterious dickhead that attacked Oscar!

Lance denied it vehemently!

When it was established the time the incident occurred, he explained he was being held captive then; when he and Jared were suspended from the tree getting lick tortured by Foxy the dog. Seth and Weasel confirmed his story. It wasn’t Lance after all who abused his brother!

Who then?

Jensen, tied down to the chair next to Lance, couldn’t hold back his laughter, which was suspicious. It didn’t take too much interrogation to get him to fess up that he was the unknown assailant that spanked and humiliated young Oscar. He was too cocky and too stupid to know any better!

Jensen suddenly found himself as public enemy #1. Lance, to his right, wanted to fucking beat the shit out of him and wished he wasn’t bound to a chair. Ethan, tied up to Jensen’s left, had his own score to settle. Now Oscar wanted revenge. Dylan was visibly angry and his Red-Neck buddies followed his lead, all disgusted by Jensen’s behavior.

Dylan looked over at Malachi and said, “What I told you earlier about ‘bridge too far?’ I changed my mind,” Dylan grinned.

Ethan from his chair looked up at Malachi and they both smiled. Malachi whispered into Weasel’s ear who started chuckling like crazy, loving the idea he heard.

Weasel, who was only clad in his tattered boxer briefs and a ballcap, ran off to his tent barefoot.

Jensen was surrounded by most of the boys now and he looked a little nervous, maybe regretting his cocky attitude.

Weasel ran back to the group so excited, his stretched cotton BVD’s fell away from his hips below his bush of pubic hair.

In his hands were his Osiris sneakers. He pulled out his dirty socks from the shoes. They were now crusty and dry; brown and grey stained all over.

Right away just about all the boys waved their hands and exclaimed how rank the smell was. Billy added it must be true Weasel had a foot fetish.

It was obvious to Jensen he was the target of those awful things.

“NO FUCKING WAY. You’re not getting those foul, putrid, toxic, stinky ass things near me! They reek man! I’m telling you!” Jensen blurted out.

No one around him listened as Weasel approached with big, eager eyes.

Ethan suggested Oscar have the honors, though, on behalf of the both of them. Everyone agreed, even Weasel.

The kid Oscar eagerly took one of the smelly socks and approached Jensen who was shaking his head around and shifting about like crazy in his ropework. Several older boys held Jensen still for the boy.

Jensen pursed his lips tight to prevent his mouth from being stuffed. They pinched his nose so he’d have to eventually open up.

“Mmnn nnn!” gasped holding out as long as he could….

Another hour had passed at the camp…

It was announced there was evening entertainment that had many curious.

Four prisoners, instead of three, are now tied up to the chairs placed in a row. Young Oscar has joined his teammates, seated at the end on the left. His big bro Lance is tied next to him. Ethan is chair tied at the opposite right end. They’re still gag free and content.

Jensen, however, who is tied up between Lance and Ethan, looked miserable and defeated.

As deserved, he was gagged. One of Weasel’s stinky socks was shoved into bad boy Jensen’s mouth by young Oscar. Once crusty, Jensen’s own mucous whipped it into a disgusting moist swirl of odors. The tube sock was big enough to fill his mouth and press down on his tongue which helped enhance the foul taste! Then he had been tape gagged. As if that wasn’t enough, they knotted off Weasel’s other sock around the tape like a detective’s gag which had the very unpleasant advantage of forcing Jensen to inhale more funky odor through his nose!

Lance leaned over to Oscar. The two brothers were tied up in chairs next to each other. Older bro Lance whispered he was proud of his “lil bro” for being so brave and composed. This made it all worth it for Oscar to hear that.

Meanwhile, Steve-O jumped up in front of everyone, directing attention to a large sheet that was held up and spread out by clothespins.

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“Gents and germs! Tonight’s entertainment!” he called out as he ripped down the sheet to reveal what was behind it.

There was Nate! His wrists and ankles had been restrained to thick nylon straps but fairly loose.

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He was standing with his legs slightly spread apart as well as his arms a foot or so away from his waist, not raised. He didn’t seem distressed, in fact he kind of had a jokey grin on his face.

A makeshift “diaper” made out of loads of duct tape was the only thing covering his body. It bulged out at the crotch because of, apparently, an athletic cup placed underneath all the duct tape. A “bullseye” was then painted over the crotch! It was a hilarious sight for all, except Malachi who was slightly turned on by this.

Steve-O announced that they were going to play a game of “Nut Paintball.” The object of the game was to hit the bullseye target over Nate’s groin area!

Apparently, Steve-O was the one who tagged Nate with his rifle in the forest. He swore he saw Nate whence with pain when he was shot in the stomach and chest with only that sheer UA compression shirt. Nate swore differently, that it didn’t hurt. Thus, a challenge was born between the two guys. Steve-O dared him into this predicament and Nate accepted!

Pretty much everyone – Nate’s fellow prisoners and their captors alike – were down for this except Malachi. He registered his concern because of the close range and Dylan backed him up. They all agreed to lower the pressure on their muzzle velocity which eased concerns, a bit.

Steve-O wanted to get things underway and Nate confidently chirped “Bring it on!” with a laugh.

Suddenly Billy, Weasel, and Seth darted over to help Steve-O. The four of them started pumping away at crank able buckles that tightened the nylon webbings, or straps. It was a ratchet system. As the slack was being removed, Nate’s body limbs were being more and more spread and constricted.

Nate was appearing a little nervous as he felt the straps spread his arms and his legs apart further. “Ah… necessary?” he laughed trying to disguise his worry.

Steve-O and crew kept cranking until Nate was seriously strapped spread eagle, with his arms now high above and away from his body.

To Malachi, Nate looked like a helpless superhero in peril. Like Captain America captured by an evil villain.

With the last couple of cranks, Nate became so extended out every direction that he was forced to his tip toes to reach the ground! His strapped body, when he tried to move, snapped right back in place like a taut rubber band.

“Ok! Not sure about this part guys!” Nate said.

Steve-O reached for something he had kept close by and said to Nate, “You don’t need to be talking for this!”

The blonde stud boy was ball-gagged! A black rubber strap with a red rubber ball in the center was placed over Nate’s mouth and buckled behind his head!

Some teased why in the hell Steve-O had a ball-gag in his possession but when he said Weasel loaned it to him, they chuckled and said that made more sense.

Dylan said he was done for the night and left for his tent to get some extra sleep. Jimmy and Malachi would be the only real empathetic ones to try and keep things from getting too crazy.

Steve-O was tossed someone’s paintball helmet and he strapped it over Nate’s head. He patted Nate on his butt and stepped off to the side to referee.

Seth, Weasel, Jimmy, and Billy lined up their paintball rifles for Nut Paintball!

They each took a shot. POP. POP. POP POP. Nate jerked and grunted each time upon impact. Two hit him in the stomach, spraying red paint all over his abs. One in the upper thigh just below the protection of the duct tape diaper, spraying pant. And another, courtesy of Seth, was a bullseye at the crotch. Right over the nuts! Even with all the duct tape and cup, it hurt like a bitch for Nate!

They kept shooting and poor Nate took it, reactively flailing his body but basically unable to move at all thanks to the ratchet strap system.

Jimmy then announced he was calling it a night. He was the last of the more responsible ones so Malachi was truly alone now to “babysit” his sadistic friends.

Sure enough, the rednecks still playing into the night, got more aggressive. Nate was getting pelted everywhere on his body. His teammates, tied to their chairs, who were once enjoying the spectacle, were getting agitated and telling them to ease up on Nate. That didn’t do much good.

In fact, some of drunk, rowdy boys leaned over the prisoner’s shoulders using them as a brace while they fired their weapons!

Nate’s beautiful muscle toned, tan, manly frame was a mess. He was beet red, coated in sweat and red paint everywhere. Thick drool was streaming down under his helmet from the tight ball gag and his saliva rand down his chest.

Finally, Malachi insisted more strongly and they reluctantly stopped their assault on helpless Nate.

They all decided it was time for bed anyway. They were drunk and stoned. Prisoners couldn’t be left like that for the night, though, in such uncomfortable states, particularly Nate. They’d need to be untied and re-secured for bed.

Because they didn’t have the energy to put up with any monkey business from their prisoners during that process, Seth had a mischievous solution.

He came back holding a jar and a rag which soon was identified as chloroform!

Malachi again objected but was pushed away and ignored.

Each of the Blue-Dawg guys tied to their chairs were knocked out one by one, kicking their feet which was futile as rope around their ankles limited that.

The captors actually offered to go easy on the sixteen year old, Oscar, but after he kept insisting he not be treated special, they said “fuck it” and chloroform gassed the kid to sleep.

“He’s got spunk!” Billy said ruffling Oscar’s hair as he was slumped over the chair unconscious.

As they made their way to Nate, he growled and protested in his spread-eagled helpless state. They told him how impressed they were with toughing it out but still didn’t trust he’d cooperate for bedtime tie down.

Seth went behind Nate and cupped his hand over his mouth with the chloroform soaked rag.

“Just breathe easy,” Steve-O calmly told him.

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Weasel, standing in front of Nate, groped his nipples playfully and half-jokingly, or not, said he wanted to keep him in his tent for the night. “He’s too pretty!”

TO BE CONTINUED…
Deleted User 122

Post by Deleted User 122 »

Hello everyone, I just wanted to say you'll probably not be hearing from me for awhile.

I'm recovered enough to resume work travel. I'll be out of town for most of the next month or so. I usually don't access "our kind of thing" in those periods because I don't take my home laptop. Nor do I like to use my phone for this.

So... don't worry if I don't respond anytime soon.

:)

Peace
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NeedControl
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Post by NeedControl »

Well I was looking forward to this continuing, but it looks like he's deleted his account 😞
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