ETHAN'S SWEET REVENGE
PART IV - NO ESCAPE
When I arrived in my twenty-one-year-old stepbrother's smelly bedroom, I was glad to find him sitting on his fold-up futon mattress, busily gaming away on his PS4 console.
Had it not been for my stepdad sleeping downstairs, I would've left Kyle's door wide over to try and air out his room out a bit. Truth be known, the smell of his socks, boxers and gym clothes really tickled my senses...and not in a good way.
But it was late, and I couldn't risk leaving the bedroom door open and cause Kyle's late night gaming to wake his dad up. And so, going against my better judgement, I closed the bedroom door behind me and made my way across the cluttered floor so that I could sit on the bed, next to my stepbrother.
Kyle barely paid me any attention as I walked in.
He just sat there, eyes fixed to the medium-sized TV screen and hands glued to his controls.
The clothes he'd been wearing were on the floor, next to his feet, and even his newly-christened Nike sneakers had been removed, leaving the tattooed muscle-hunk clad in nothing but his socks and underwear.
For a guy who ate so much junk, his body was nothing short of incredible!
In many regards, Kyle looked just like his dad; real big and buff.
Aside from the size of his arms and the fact that his upper body was covered in tattoos, what really stood out about him though, was how big his thighs were and how large his butt was.
His boxers were nothing short of ENORMOUS compared to mine, but given how stretched out they were around his fat rump and massive tights, they
clearly weren't big enough.
The thin, bright blue fabric strained to accommodate it's incredibly hunky wearer.
And I have to admit, even though I wasn't into guys, it was kinda hard not to notice the size of Kyle's package.
The big, blue boxer-briefs he was wearing were real tight but came equipped with an extra roomy front pouch for especially well-endowed men.
You should've seen the SIZE of his bulge and the way his package protruded from between those massive thighs of his. He wasn't erect or anything. But even so, his dick and balls must've been HUGE!
A faint whimpering sound suddenly hit my ears and drew my attention away from my stepbrother's awe-inspiring body. A smile grew on my face as my eyes caught sight of a certain sock-clad worm that was squirming around on the far end of the sofa-bed.
Poor Hunter was still trapped inside the raunchy tube sock. And from the looks of it, he wasn't gonna make it out on his own any time soon.
Kyle was engrossed in his game that he took almost an entire minute before speaking to me after I'd sat down next to him on the bed.
"So. You think we should let him outta there yet?" he asked, keeping his gaze fixed on the TV to avoid crashing in one of the trees that lined the simulated race track.
I looked down at wiggling, crying little sock-worm and smiled.
"I think he sorta likes it in there." I laughed, 'causing Kyle to smirk and chuckle.
I could tell from the heavily muffled grunts and screams being produced that Hunter wanted to puke his guts out and die in there. Frankly, I couldn't blame him. I think I would've wanted that too had I been stuck inside big-bad Kyle's pungent gym sock.
Inside my stepbrother's sock, I would've wanted to die.
Inside my stepdad's sock, I WOULD'VE died. Haha!
The big-bad tattooed muscle-hunk ended his final lap and quickly put the PS4 controller down before grabbing the little sock-clad worm and lifting him up off the mattress.
"Alright, let's get him outta there." he mumbled, slowly undoing the knot he'd previously fixed up to stop Hunter from leaving his improvised guest accommodations.
My stepbrother turned his sock upside down and our helpless little prisoner -not to mention a generous amount of cheesy sock lint- tumbled out of the opening and landed onto the bed.
Hunter's gagged face -what little we could see of it anyways- was paler than usual. His complexion looked a little green, even!
You might think of me as heartless, but I had to restrain myself from chuckling too much at the sound of his violent coughing and at the sight of him gagging as he fell outta there.
Poor Hunter.
His hellish nightmare had only just begun, and already he looked like he was about to pass out.
I watched as Kyle tossed his putrid sock to the floor and watched as grabbed the squirming mummy inside his huge hand before lifting him up.
"Not so feisty anymore, eh punk?" he taunted, 'causing the tightly mummified prisoner to grunt and groan in his maddeningly tight tape gag.
Observing my stepbrother's handiwork, it suddenly occurred to me that Kyle might've actually bound up and gagged others guys before. I mean, the mummy was really fuckin' tight, and the gag was extremely effective.
This couldn't be the work of an amateur.
Even though the electrical tape was unbreakable and probably extremely sticky for a guy Hunter's size, my big-bad stepbrother actually wrapped the stupid bully's entire face and head up, leaving only a tiny slot for his eyes and a puny hole for his nostrils.
No small feat considering the size of our minuscule victim relative to the size of our fingers.
"Dude, get your phone. Take some pics of the fucker. We're gonna plaster his ass all over Facebook and Instagram." Kyle ordered.
I knew we wouldn't be posting those pics anywhere, but my stepbrother was smart enough to use this as a way of ensuring Hunter's silence.
If he stayed silent about this whole thing, we'd keep the photos.
If he decided to snitch about what we'd done, the pics would go viral.
Between you and I, well let's just say that we managed to get some very
compromising footage of Hunter during his stay at our place.
I knew he wouldn't talk.
If this stuff went viral, he'd become the laughing stock of the entire school.
Kyle wasn't normally the smartest kid on the block, but he was too well-versed in this stuff for it to be a mere coincidence. Something wasn't adding up.
The only conclusion I could come to was that he was no stranger to bondage, blackmailing, torture and taking revenge.
On paper, he may not have been the sharpest tool in the shed. But streetwise, he was pretty sharp.
Little Hunter got angrier and angrier with each photo I took of him.
It even got to the point were he was glaring and cursing at me through his tape gag.
Kyle squeezed the little punk and told him to shut the fuck up, but Hunter apparently still had a bit of fight left in him and wasn't interested in complying.
"Shut up!" my stepbrother growled, glaring down at the puny little guy he had trapped up in his hand.
"
Uggghmmph! UuggghUUGHHHMMPH!" Hunter yelled, no doubt furious and frightened by the prospect of us uploading those pics on social media.
"No? Alright, time to go back in my sock." Kyle decided, this time speaking in a much more serious tone.
"Ethan, go get me my sock." he instructed, ignoring our captive Barbie-boy's frantic screaming.
Hunter was yelling and screaming, but he wasn't yelling profanities anymore. Quite the opposite.
He was crying, pleading and begging for mercy.
The idea of going back inside this huge, terrifying dude's revoltingly smelly sock scared the shit out of him!
I gave Kyle his sock back and watched as he balled it up into a huge wad and brought it less than a centimeter in front of Hunter's protesting face.
"You wanna go back in there, eh?! You wanna go back in my sock?!" the giant, tattooed Alpha growled, causing the much smaller man to shake his head no about half a dozen times.
Hunter screamed, begged and pleaded beneath his gag before breaking down into a series of garbled coughs and distressed whimpers. His body convulsed and his head twisted left and right, desperately attempting to get away from my hunky stepbrother's big old rotten sock.
"Then QUIET." Kyle barked, instantly putting an end to the mummified lad's pathetic whimpers.
"Now I'm gonna play some video games with my little brother. And if I hear ONE FUCKIN' PEEP from you, I'm gonna shove you back in that sock and you're gonna spend the rest of the night taped up in there! Is that clear?!" he growled, causing the terrified little man to look up at him wide-eyed and shake his head yes.
Kyle handed me his PS4 controller before picking his second controller up and tossing his sock back to the floor.
Hunter stayed perfectly quiet and I watched as my big brother absentmindedly placed him face up on the sofa-bed, right between his HUGE, beefy thighs.
Even though my heart wasn't really in it, Kyle and I ended up playing video games for quite a while.
I honestly was far more interested in observing our little mummy-boi as he eyed the tattooed hunk's COLOSSAL thighs with both fear and apprehension.
Kyle moved around quite a bit while gaming, and became so absorbed by his need to win that he sometimes forgot about the puny little gagged prisoner between his legs.
Suffice it to say, Hunter came within a hair's breadth of being crushed and smothered to death by my distracted stepbrother's giant thighs-of-thunder.
Having no gaming console in my bedroom, it became abundantly clear that I was far less adept at these shooter games than Kyle was.
My lack of experience often ended up in getting me killed off and waiting for the game to spawn me a new character. Kyle, on the other hand, barely took his eyes off the screen, and demonstrated ZERO regards for the poor soul that was lying just a few inches in front of his bulging front pouch.
At one point, the smelly muscle-King even lifted his right leg up a bit and allowed a gassy eruption to blast out of his huge ass.
I ended up coughing and gagging on the spot, getting up and waving my hand in front of my face to dissipate the revolting stench.
"Awww, dude!" I cried out, causing the enthralled stud to smirk and chuckle with pride as he focused on finishing his rampage through enemy ranks.
Poor Hunter didn't have nearly as much liberty as I did though.
His feet were moving alright, but they weren't carrying him anywhere.
With his entire body taped up and mummified excessively tight, the little guy was just forced to lie there and suffer the full brunt of the giant brute's insanely powerful fart.
And suffer he did.
Little Hunter was left gagging, coughing and screaming inside his monstrously tight tape gag.
His face turned pale, his eyes watered over and his mummified body twisted and strained in a series of violent convulsions.
The tape that had been mercilessly wrapped under his jaw and around his face and head didn't allow his lips to part even a micron. The massive tape gag was so tight and so complete that absolutely NO filet of air could make it in or out of his mouth. The only air going in had to go through his nostrils...a fact that Kyle obviously gave little though to.
Our pathetically helpless prisoner was left to bask in the heavily eradiated blast zone between my beefy stepbrother's giant thighs, and he could do absolutely nothing to escape the rotten gas that was seeping it's way into his defenceless nostrils.
That, in my books, qualified as PURE torture.
It continued like that for a while; us playing video games, Kyle reaching under his prominent bulge to scratch itch between his balls and his butthole. Nothing out of the ordinary really...
Kyle eventually tired of winning and both of us agreed that it was time to take a break.
Besides, it was a bit past midnight at that point, and the two of us were getting pretty tired.
A devious look crossed my stepbrother's handsome face as he glared down at the prisoner between his thighs.
I knew he was up to something. He was
always up to something.
"So, punk? You like picking on smaller guys, don't you?" he asked, taunting the well-behaved captive in a sudden display of dominance.
A series of heavily muffled cries made it past Hunter's gagged mouth and up to our ears, but for us it was barely louder than a whisper.
"Yeah, I do too. But unluckily for you, you're the smallest guy around right now. So I'm gonna pick on you." came the tattooed stud's cold reply.
Kyle suddenly reached down and picked up his huge, size 13 shoe before giving it a quick whiff.
"Nah, these aren't bad." he mumbled, flaring his nostrils inside the opening and sampling the air inside his brand new blue and white Nikes.
Before I could get away, the buff hunk wrapped his left arm around my neck and pulled me up against his heavily-built torso.
I was about to tell him to knock it off, but quickly found myself facing the inside of his shoe as it was clamped down over my face.
"Sniff." Kyle ordered, 'causing me to grunt in slight frustration.
I inhaled, and the unmistakably cheesy scent of his feet hit my nostrils. But aside from that, the brand new, three-day-old sneakers weren't bad yet. Not
nearly as bad as some of the other sneakers lying around in the stinky-King's cluttered room.
"Yeah, let's give him something more serious to complain about." my stepbrother mumbled, pulling his shoe off of my face and tossing it back to the floor, next to his socked feet.
I watched as he got up and made his way towards the bedroom closet, no doubt in search of something that would make Hunter think twice about ever talking to me again.
My assumptions were proven correct when Kyle decided to announce his intentions.
"Yeah, I've got something that'll make the hair on his head curl up." he chuckled, stepping out of the closet with a pair of his heavily worn-out bad boys in tow.
I immediately recognised the battered Osiris sneakers as being my stepbrother's worst smelling shoes, and instantly got antsy at the thought of those being used against my cruel arch nemesis.
Yup, Hunter was
definitely in serious trouble now.