Re: The Annual Event (M+/m)
Posted: Tue Apr 02, 2019 8:18 pm
Chapter 15 - The Next Morning
Soon after Mr. Rost zipped us together in his sleeping bag he fell asleep. I listened to his breathing getting more and more calm and steady. I, on the other hand, had difficulties even in finding a comfortable position, but that could have been expected. I was bound hand and foot, gagged cruelly with officer Bradley’s disgusting socks and squashed between the huge, masculine hunk and the sleeping bag. I was chest to chest with him, forced to inhale his sweaty scent with every breath I took. Sleeping in those circumstances was a real challenge I had to endure; there was no way in hell I could free myself from the guys’ roping, and even if I did manage to get something lose, it was pretty obvious that they would immediately deal with it. So, with absolutely no possibility to escape, I finally calmed down and tried to get some sleep and somehow managed to doze off, tightly pressed against Mr. Rost’s solid muscles.
When the morning came and I woke up the first thing I did was trying to move a little; I was sore and very uncomfortable. The huge guy was still fast asleep; I had no clue what time it was, but judging by the cold sunbeams entering our tent it must have been morning. When I was trying to find some comfortable position I realized something: both Mr. Rost and I were rock hard. I was shocked; having a boner is something normal, but not when you’re pressed against some other guy! I began struggling a little, but soon realized it was a mistake: due to all the rubbing our dicks only grew even bigger. I stopped and lay there motionless for the next several minutes, wanting to prevent the worst. I was all covered in sweat now and when I looked at Mr. Rost’s shirtless body I noticed he was sweating a lot too. I also spotted something else: the guy was no longer asleep, he was watching me carefully.
“So, how did you sleep, kiddo?” He asked with a smile on his face. “Judging by pressure on my hip I guess you enjoyed the night quite a lot!”
I didn’t try to answer. I was so ashamed and was just staring at him for a few moments. He didn’t say anything more; he just lay there, thinking about something. After what seemed like ten or so minutes, he unzipped the bag and got up. He opened his duffel bag and rummaged in it for a while. He got his black tank top, put it on and unzipped the tent. I immediately felt the cold wind on my face. Even though it was a sunny day, it was really cold outside and, for the first time, I was happy to be inside the warm sleeping bag.
“Fuck, the weather sucks today… let’s hope it’ll get warmer later.” Mr. Rost said as he grabbed his motorcycle leather jacket and tight leather gloves. I watched him put them on and then leave the tent.
Not much time later I heard uncle Kev waking up. He just smirked when he saw me strictly tied up and gagged. I moaned quietly into my gag; the huge bloke simply ignored me and got dressed. He put on his jeans with wide belt, boots, grey T-shirt and a leather jacket he had brought with him just in case. As a final touch he put his thick leather gloves on and left the tent, leaving me alone. When he zipped the tent up I started struggling again, trying to find something to help me with the knots. No matter how much I tried, there was nothing I could do. Soon I heard the tent being unzipped again and Mr. Rost came inside. He untied my legs and forced me outside.
It was a chilly morning, very cold actually. And windy. I shivered when I felt the wind on my almost naked body. I looked around; all the guys were already up out of their tents. All of them were wearing warm clothes and leather gloves. The cops were gathering the wood from the forest and storing it next to the campfire. Mr. Watson, my father and uncle Doug were talking about something, unfortunately they were too far from me, so I couldn’t hear anything. When my Dad saw me he stopped chatting with the guys and came closer to me. With a serious look on his face he checked my bonds and the gag. Satisfied that everything was in order he told me to walk to his tent with him. I looked questioningly at him, but he said no more. Not wanting to anger him I did what he told me and entered his tent.
“Sit down, son, we need to dress you with something.” He said in a strange tone I couldn’t recognize.
“Mmmpphh….”
I watched my father open his bag and take a pair of dark jeans out. He put them on the ground and searched for something else. While my Dad was busy rummaging, Mr. Rost came inside the tent and sat on the ground next to me. I felt really small now; a skinny boy all bound and silenced and two huge, alpha jocks around. They didn’t say anything until my father found what he was looking for. It turned out it was the jeans I mentioned before, a pair of cleats, a shirt and a dark sweater, just like the one my father was wearing.
“We’ll untie your arms to let you dress. The gag stays on. If you try anything stupid, you’ll face the consequences. Got that, son?” My father asked in a stern voice. I nodded.
The two hunks put the jeans on me first, then a pair of socks and finally the cleats. The trousers were too large for me, so my father took a wide leather belt from his bag, put it through the loops in the jeans and buckled it tightly around my waist. I looked down and had to admit that I looked kind of nice in that outfit. The guys then moved on to my arms and untied them completely. For a brief moment I was almost completely free, and considered escaping. But I gave up that thought quickly; I had no chance against the seven blokes. As soon as my father and Mr. Rost dressed me they started tying my arms behind my back again. I didn’t protest, because I was really grateful they let me get dressed; it was really chilly and I didn’t like the idea of spending the day in just my shorts.
“So, son….” My father spoke when my wrists and elbows were strictly and neatly roped up again. “Damian tells me you shared something special this morning. Is that correct, boy?”
I looked at the guys: Mr. Rost was sitting next to me, quietly and my father was crouching in front of me, looking me in the eye. I was a little taken aback, but sort of had a feeling that my Dad was suppressing a laugh. I had no idea where this conversation would go, but I knew that it was one of those father-son moments when both of us would be totally honest with each other. I looked my father in the eye and nodded.
“Dude, can you leave us for a moment?” He asked, turning to Mr. Rost.
“No problem, man.”
After Mr. Rost had left the tent my father started speaking:
“Look, son. I know it must have been really awkward to have a raging hard on when pressed against some other guy, but, to be honest, I hardly find it strange. You have reached a certain age when guys are constantly horny and get boners without any reasonable cause. And most of us have… let’s call it a ‘morning wood’ when we get up. It’s not something we can easily control, and, let’s face it, there are very few guys who are bothered with this. So, what you and Damian experienced is perfectly normal, do you understand, boy?”
I kept silent, not only because of the gag, but also because I didn’t expect my father to be this open with me. Even though we were both close with each other we never talked about… this stuff. And it was even weirder, considering the fact that I was his prisoner and was chewing on some other guy’s sweaty socks. For a moment I thought that this scene was very surrealistic.
“One more thing, kid…. Do you know how to tell that the guy is horny?” I thought for a while and shook my head. “He is breathing.”
My father laughed at his own joke for a while. I sensed he was in a good humor and maybe I could persuade him to take the damned gag out of my mouth.
“Mmppphh…”
“Nice try, buddy, but I’m not taking the gag out. Kev is right, you do look nice wrapped up and gagged, maybe I’ll keep you like this more often at home…” He said and winked at me. “Come on, boy let’s go to the guys and have breakfast…”
Soon after Mr. Rost zipped us together in his sleeping bag he fell asleep. I listened to his breathing getting more and more calm and steady. I, on the other hand, had difficulties even in finding a comfortable position, but that could have been expected. I was bound hand and foot, gagged cruelly with officer Bradley’s disgusting socks and squashed between the huge, masculine hunk and the sleeping bag. I was chest to chest with him, forced to inhale his sweaty scent with every breath I took. Sleeping in those circumstances was a real challenge I had to endure; there was no way in hell I could free myself from the guys’ roping, and even if I did manage to get something lose, it was pretty obvious that they would immediately deal with it. So, with absolutely no possibility to escape, I finally calmed down and tried to get some sleep and somehow managed to doze off, tightly pressed against Mr. Rost’s solid muscles.
When the morning came and I woke up the first thing I did was trying to move a little; I was sore and very uncomfortable. The huge guy was still fast asleep; I had no clue what time it was, but judging by the cold sunbeams entering our tent it must have been morning. When I was trying to find some comfortable position I realized something: both Mr. Rost and I were rock hard. I was shocked; having a boner is something normal, but not when you’re pressed against some other guy! I began struggling a little, but soon realized it was a mistake: due to all the rubbing our dicks only grew even bigger. I stopped and lay there motionless for the next several minutes, wanting to prevent the worst. I was all covered in sweat now and when I looked at Mr. Rost’s shirtless body I noticed he was sweating a lot too. I also spotted something else: the guy was no longer asleep, he was watching me carefully.
“So, how did you sleep, kiddo?” He asked with a smile on his face. “Judging by pressure on my hip I guess you enjoyed the night quite a lot!”
I didn’t try to answer. I was so ashamed and was just staring at him for a few moments. He didn’t say anything more; he just lay there, thinking about something. After what seemed like ten or so minutes, he unzipped the bag and got up. He opened his duffel bag and rummaged in it for a while. He got his black tank top, put it on and unzipped the tent. I immediately felt the cold wind on my face. Even though it was a sunny day, it was really cold outside and, for the first time, I was happy to be inside the warm sleeping bag.
“Fuck, the weather sucks today… let’s hope it’ll get warmer later.” Mr. Rost said as he grabbed his motorcycle leather jacket and tight leather gloves. I watched him put them on and then leave the tent.
Not much time later I heard uncle Kev waking up. He just smirked when he saw me strictly tied up and gagged. I moaned quietly into my gag; the huge bloke simply ignored me and got dressed. He put on his jeans with wide belt, boots, grey T-shirt and a leather jacket he had brought with him just in case. As a final touch he put his thick leather gloves on and left the tent, leaving me alone. When he zipped the tent up I started struggling again, trying to find something to help me with the knots. No matter how much I tried, there was nothing I could do. Soon I heard the tent being unzipped again and Mr. Rost came inside. He untied my legs and forced me outside.
It was a chilly morning, very cold actually. And windy. I shivered when I felt the wind on my almost naked body. I looked around; all the guys were already up out of their tents. All of them were wearing warm clothes and leather gloves. The cops were gathering the wood from the forest and storing it next to the campfire. Mr. Watson, my father and uncle Doug were talking about something, unfortunately they were too far from me, so I couldn’t hear anything. When my Dad saw me he stopped chatting with the guys and came closer to me. With a serious look on his face he checked my bonds and the gag. Satisfied that everything was in order he told me to walk to his tent with him. I looked questioningly at him, but he said no more. Not wanting to anger him I did what he told me and entered his tent.
“Sit down, son, we need to dress you with something.” He said in a strange tone I couldn’t recognize.
“Mmmpphh….”
I watched my father open his bag and take a pair of dark jeans out. He put them on the ground and searched for something else. While my Dad was busy rummaging, Mr. Rost came inside the tent and sat on the ground next to me. I felt really small now; a skinny boy all bound and silenced and two huge, alpha jocks around. They didn’t say anything until my father found what he was looking for. It turned out it was the jeans I mentioned before, a pair of cleats, a shirt and a dark sweater, just like the one my father was wearing.
“We’ll untie your arms to let you dress. The gag stays on. If you try anything stupid, you’ll face the consequences. Got that, son?” My father asked in a stern voice. I nodded.
The two hunks put the jeans on me first, then a pair of socks and finally the cleats. The trousers were too large for me, so my father took a wide leather belt from his bag, put it through the loops in the jeans and buckled it tightly around my waist. I looked down and had to admit that I looked kind of nice in that outfit. The guys then moved on to my arms and untied them completely. For a brief moment I was almost completely free, and considered escaping. But I gave up that thought quickly; I had no chance against the seven blokes. As soon as my father and Mr. Rost dressed me they started tying my arms behind my back again. I didn’t protest, because I was really grateful they let me get dressed; it was really chilly and I didn’t like the idea of spending the day in just my shorts.
“So, son….” My father spoke when my wrists and elbows were strictly and neatly roped up again. “Damian tells me you shared something special this morning. Is that correct, boy?”
I looked at the guys: Mr. Rost was sitting next to me, quietly and my father was crouching in front of me, looking me in the eye. I was a little taken aback, but sort of had a feeling that my Dad was suppressing a laugh. I had no idea where this conversation would go, but I knew that it was one of those father-son moments when both of us would be totally honest with each other. I looked my father in the eye and nodded.
“Dude, can you leave us for a moment?” He asked, turning to Mr. Rost.
“No problem, man.”
After Mr. Rost had left the tent my father started speaking:
“Look, son. I know it must have been really awkward to have a raging hard on when pressed against some other guy, but, to be honest, I hardly find it strange. You have reached a certain age when guys are constantly horny and get boners without any reasonable cause. And most of us have… let’s call it a ‘morning wood’ when we get up. It’s not something we can easily control, and, let’s face it, there are very few guys who are bothered with this. So, what you and Damian experienced is perfectly normal, do you understand, boy?”
I kept silent, not only because of the gag, but also because I didn’t expect my father to be this open with me. Even though we were both close with each other we never talked about… this stuff. And it was even weirder, considering the fact that I was his prisoner and was chewing on some other guy’s sweaty socks. For a moment I thought that this scene was very surrealistic.
“One more thing, kid…. Do you know how to tell that the guy is horny?” I thought for a while and shook my head. “He is breathing.”
My father laughed at his own joke for a while. I sensed he was in a good humor and maybe I could persuade him to take the damned gag out of my mouth.
“Mmppphh…”
“Nice try, buddy, but I’m not taking the gag out. Kev is right, you do look nice wrapped up and gagged, maybe I’ll keep you like this more often at home…” He said and winked at me. “Come on, boy let’s go to the guys and have breakfast…”