Chapter 14 - Time to bed
âSo, whose socks will the kid have the privilege to suck on?â Uncle Kev asked with a devilish smile on his face.
âDunnoâŚ. Maybe letâs have Peter chooseâŚ.â My Godfather suggested. âWell? Whose socks would you like, kiddo?â
âMMmpphhh!!â I tried to shout. This little discussion was really annoying.
âEasy there, sonâŚâ My father squeezed my jaw a little more. âSeems he canât decide, why donât we let our guests gag him?â
âIâd be glad to do it, manâŚâ The younger cop said.
âDecided then!â
Once the guys made the decision, officer Bradley squatted and started unlacing his leather boots. With my father tightly hand gagging me and pressing my head against his muscular abdomen I could only watch the cop take his boots off and reveal the pair of socks I was about to be gagged with. Even though I wasnât that close to them, it immediately hit me: the guy must have been wearing them for a long time. The socks looked awful; they were once white, but the soles were now covered in dirt and sweat, and were brownish. It was pretty obvious they were gross and dreadful; the horrible stench was a proof of that. When the smell hit my nostrils I started bucking and struggling, but my Dad was holding me firmly, making all my efforts to escape futile. The guys were going to silence me for the night and there was nothing I could do to prevent that happening.
Officer Bradley's socks.jpg
âItâs the fifth day Iâve been wearing them, kid⌠I hope you can do a little bit of washing up for me.â The cop said when he took the socks off and put his bare feet inside his cop boots again.
He walked slowly towards me, and the rest of the guys gathered around to watch. Officer Bradley knelt right in front of me and smiled in a wicked way. He was perfectly aware how disgusting his socks were, and yet he had no problems with stuffing them into some strangerâs mouth. My father removed his huge, gloved hand from my mouth and immediately squeezed my cheeks, making my mouth open. The moment it did, the cop started pushing the stinky material inside. The taste was even worse than the smell; I was coughing and trying to push the sock out with my tongue, but I stood no chance against the brutal cop. Once he thrust one sock inside, he repeated the process with the other one; when he was done my cheeks were bulging and I was panting heavily. I didnât think it was possible, but the guyâs stench was even stronger than my fatherâs.
âThere you go, buddy. Now, letâs tape this mouth of yours shutâŚâ The cop said and grabbed the familiar roll of military grade, super wide duct tape.
I watched him unroll the tape slowly. My father held my head still with his giant hands, allowing officer Bradley to finish the gag. He plastered the tape on my cheek and started winding it around my head and over my stuffed mouth. He took his time wrapping the sticky tape over my lower face, pressing it tightly against my skin. After he had done the fifteenth circle he finally ripped the tape from the roll and plastered the remaining strip on my mouth. I was totally silenced, again. I could only whimper quietly and taste the fresh sweat that was already filling my oral cavity and mixing with my saliva.
âYou know what guys, I think I like him this way. Maybe, once we return home, we should consider keeping him like that more often?â Uncle said with a huge smile in his face.
âNot a bad idea, bro. It would definitely keep him out of trouble, thatâs for sure. Iâll have to think about this.â My father replied, laughing. Then he turned to me: âYou need to piss, kid?â
I tried to look at him; I hadnât realized that before, but now that he mentioned it, I suddenly felt strong pressure in my bladder. I nodded.
âAll right, Iâll go with Peter and you guys deal with the sleeping arrangements.â My father said.
He stood me up, grabbed my arm and marched me a little into the woods. It felt really weird to be guided like that, with my arms bound behind my back and my mouth cruelly gagged. But I had no choice; I definitely needed to take a leak, and pissing into my shorts wasnât an option. When we were quite far from our camp my father put his gloved hand inside my underwear and took the phone out. He put it into his pocket and then pulled my shorts and briefs down. I was so embarrassed and yelled into my gag, but it didnât make any impact on my dad. He just waited until I would do my business and pulled the briefs and shorts up again.
âNow, that wasnât so bad, was it?â
After he also took a leak we started walking back to the camp. When we got there the cops had already set their own tent, and all the guys were in their underwear, exposing their huge muscles. Only Mr. Rost was still wearing his leather motorcycle trousers. In the tents I could also see the sleeping bags. There were seven huge blokes and seven sleeping bags, no room for me. I didnât like that; the night was rather chilly and I didnât want to sleep shirtless on the bare ground, but that was definitely what the hunks had in store for me.
âWhat about the kid?â Uncle Doug asked suddenly. âWe canât leave him like that, itâs too cold.â
âYeah, Iâve already thought about this.â Mr. Rost spoke. âIâve got the largest sleeping bag, he can sleep with me.â
âMmppphh!!!â I was shocked. How on earth could he expect me to sleep with him?!
âI donât think we have much choice here. Itâs too cold to leave him like that for the night. Plus, weâll make sure he wonât be trying anything.â My Godfather added.
âThatâs settled then. You guys bind his legs, and Iâll prepare the bag.â
My father forced me to sit on the ground and Mr. Watson grabbed the rope I had been tied up with earlier and began tying my legs together. He was working in silence; after several minutes of severe roping my legs were useless for me; covered in rope from my ankles to my crotch. When Mr. Watson was done my Dad told me to be still while he checked the ropes tying my arms behind my back. He re-tied some knots, probably not because they went lose, but for the sake of doing so. I presumed he wanted to show me how helpless I was. Or maybe he liked having a restrained prisoner too? After all he was in the army and I was sure he must have had some experience in restraining a guy properly.
âThat will hold you, boy.â He said when he cinched the last knot. He walked in front of me and looked me in the eye. âIf you know whatâs good for you, behave during the night, prisoner. If Damian tells me you caused any problems, Iâll find a proper way to punish you, kid. You got that?â He asked in a dead serious tone. I nodded.
âGood.â
I looked around a little: the cops were already in their tent, and so were my uncles. Uncle Doug was sharing the tent with my father and uncle Kev with Mr. Rost. Without saying anything my Dad put me on his shoulder and walked to the tent I was supposed to sleep in. Before he put me inside the sleeping bag I caught a glimpse of it: it was woodland, military bag. It did seem large enough to fit two guys, especially considering the fact that I was much smaller than Mr. Rost and would need much less space. Nevertheless I didnât want to sleep like that and tried to tell them this. I was sure they knew why I was grunting, but being in control they ignored me.
Mr. Rost's sleepign bag.jpg
âLetâs put him inside.â My father said and made me lie down on the unzipped bag.
âWe can get it from here, bro.â Uncle Kev told my father, who just nodded and went to his own tent.
The two huge blokes zipped the bag up a little, so I couldnât get out. I was now lying on my side, with my arms pressed against the bag. When I was packed my uncle and Mr. Rost knelt next to me.
âI donât want you to make any noise, kid. Be a good prisoner, and all will be fine.â Uncle Kev said sternly. I gulped, swallowing more of officer Bradleyâs sweat.
Without further ado, the hunks got ready for the night. My uncle got inside his sleeping bag and Mr. Rost slid inside his; it wasnât that easy, since I was already inside it, but he managed. I was now squashed against his muscular torso and abdomen, and my head was at the level of his collar bone. I knew that sleeping with him would be terrible, but I didnât predict one thing: with every breath I took I was now forced to inhale Mr. Rostâs sweaty scent. I hated it, but could do nothing.
âGood night, kiddo.â
Fuck. This night would be a nightmareâŚ.