FOR THOSE WHO MAY HAVE MISSED THIS, THERE'S A NEW COMPATIBILITY EXERCISE DESIGNED
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PROCEED TO THE BELOW-LINKED EXERCISE AND TAKE THE TEST! CLICK HERE FOR THE COMPATIBILITY EXERCISE
HOUSE ARREST
FOOT-SCENTED JUSTICE
CHAPTER 6
Had my antagonist been a friend or someone closer to my age, I would've undoubtedly been struggling and yelling profanities at this point. The shoe that was being held erect at about a foot's distance from my face oozed a stench more horrendous than what I can possibly hope to describe here.
Don't get me wrong, the entire entranceway positively reeked of Bob's clinically-diagnosed foot odour, but the fumes coming out of that terrifyingly gargantuan size 14 shoe of his were just outta this world and probably potent enough to kill a grown horse! I kid you not.
Unfortunately for me, its wearer was no friend of mine, nor was I comfortable enough around him to treat him as such by batting his shoe away and playfully telling him to go fuck himself. Officer Bob was hellbent on forcing me to sample one of his trusty old bad boys, and much to my own continued panic, he wasn't about to take no for an answer.
I wanted to scream, I wanted to break down into a coughing fit and run away, but I couldn't. Bob's leathery palm and fingers had a firm grip on the back of my head, and truth be known, he was so big, so buff and so fiercely intimidating that I didn't dare raise my voice at him or curse his impossibly repugnant foot odour.
And so I just stood there, frightened, grimacing and teary-eyed as the furry-chested behemoth-cop pulled my head in closer and closer; narrowing the gap that separated my virtually terrified face from the indescribably putrescent maw of his impossibly large and freakishly gaping sneaker.
I made a last-ditch effort to try and pull away from his grip, but the leviathan-king just wouldn't have it.
"No, boi. You're going inside there whether you want it or not." he semi-amusedly warned; apparently drawing some measure of satisfaction in watching my face twist and contort.
When finally my vision went dark and the mouth of his sneaker began brushing against the contours of my grimacing visage, I gained a newfound understanding pertaining to the veracity of his words. Officer Bob wasn't lying when he said I'd be going "inside" it. The gaping wide maw of his tremendously oversized running shoe was quite literally swallowing my face whole! It was to the point where soon the entire front of my head - from the underside of my chin all the way up to my densely populated hairline - became fully wedged inside it.
"There we go, kiddo. Big whiff." the mammoth man lost no time in demanding.
It still puzzles me to this day, but I felt compelled to obey him. I'm not sure whether it was due to the irrefutably commanding tone of his voice, the sheer broadness of his torso, the mesmerizing girth of his arms and shoulders or the fact that his giant, bear paw-sized palms were clad in the sheeniest of leather gloves, but Bob's very glance was law. At least as far as I was concerned.
And so I sniffed, and not just a tentative whiff, mind you. I took a quick, but deep, almost hungry sniff.
My face was practically ears deep inside the puke-worthy chasm of Officer Bob's cyclopean running shoe, but it mattered not. I was so afraid of disobeying him after having witnessed the brutal binding and gagging of his eldest son and nephew that I dared not resist. I would have - much like Caleb - probably opened my mouth wide and immediately surrendered to his giant sockgag had I been bound up to a chair and faced with his gruffly-voiced command.
With that being said, it took less than a second for every fibre of my being to wholeheartedly regret the fear-driven whiff I'd taken out of Mr Smith's indescribably foul-smelling, decade-old trainer. I still remember the near-instantaneous burning of my eyes, the tingling of my nostrils and the bout of panicked coughing I immediately succumbed to as an overpowering combination of rotten eggs, fermenting cheese, concentrated sulfur and industrial-grade cleaning vinegar-like smells rushed in to greet my nasal passageways.
I wanted to cry out and puke, but the immediate regret I felt for having surrendered so easily to Bob's authoritarian command skyrocketed by several orders of magnitude when my temporarily cross-eyed face was pulled out of his unbelievably rotten shoe...only to be faced with the sight of his broad, beaming, pearly white grin.
The Officer's grumpy demeanour and stern no-nonsense façade had apparently been just that; a façade!
"Hahaha!" he laughed, his great big booming laughter resonating loudly across the sparsely decorated entranceway and spilling out into the adjacent living room area. I just stood there; pinching my nose shut and gasping through my mouth as the phenomenally statuesque man of the house affectionately ruffled my hair up and bent down to grab his other shoe.
"I better not catch you stealing a whiff outta my boots again, kiddo. Not unless you mean it! Next time I catch one of you ding-bats fooling around with them, I'm gonna tape both of you boys up and make you regret it." he threatened, adopting a slightly darker tone while still maintaining the cheerful smirk that had recently broken his stern façade.
I lowered my head and gulped, realising with utter certainty that his embellished threat wasn't an empty one.
"Alright little wombat, now off you go." the buff man then teasingly instructed, prodding me to leave the dreadfully potent-smelling entryway and following me out of the narrow room, still holding his unspeakably putrid, nightmare-inducing running shoes in one hand.
Bob and I parted ways at that point; my padded feet silently carrying me towards the not-so-distant washroom while his infinitely larger and inexplicably moist ones slurped their way back to the privacy of the Master bedroom.
*SLURP**SLURP**SLURP**SLURP**SLURP**SLURP**SLURP*
A sigh of relief immediately left my mouth as soon as I shut the washroom door and pressed my back against it. I couldn't for the life of me believe just how unlucky I'd been, what with my friend's dad catching me about to take a whiff of his boots and all.
What could I possibly have been thinking?!
How could I have been so bloody careless and, dare I say it, stupid?!
"Good lord, Liam...get a fuckin' grip on yourself." I wordlessly scolded, frowning at the similarly frowning reflection staring back at me in the mirror.
It took a while for me to calm down and come to terms with the realisation that I couldn't undo what had transpired a few minutes earlier. I couldn't just travel back in time and fix things like they did in fuckin' Star Trek, you know. *Sigh*
I told myself I'd fix this by refraining from being awkward around Sam's dad from now on, but the little voice inside me kept reminding me of the fact that that was easier said than done. I was always a bit awkward around Sam's dad. And from that point on, probably doubly so!
In any case, by the time I finally mustered up the courage to step out of the washroom and return to my gaming buddy's bedroom, the house was no longer as eerily quiet as it had been before. Something was going on in Officer Bob's bedroom, and even though I was still a bit on edge from having been caught doing something truly embarrassing, my urge to investigate was too strong to ignore.
Imagine my disappointment when I entered the corridor leading to the house's three bedrooms, only to find that Officer Bob's door was tightly sealed shut.
I wasn't entirely certain as to what was transpiring in there, but whatever it was Bob was subjecting his gagged and chairbound prisoners to, it sounded as though they'd both devolved into a state of near-uncontrollable panic.
Muffled screams the likes of which I'd never heard resonated inside the Master bedroom before stupendously well-muffled gagging and coughing noises soon joined the fray. The desperate, gag-impeeded screaming intensified, to the point where I even took a step back from the doorway and felt my own heart pounding.
That's when a familiar growling ensued. A low, harsh, mercilessly aggressive type of growling. The type that could only be produced by Officer Bob's big, fat, frighteningly sticky-looking roll of heavy-duty industrial-grade duct tape.
Shane and Caleb had been caught putting a smaller teen through hell earlier on. And now they were going to pay tenfold for their crimes. Officer Bob would see to that. He was, after all, a man of the law, and as such, considered it his sacred duty to bring these two punks to justice. And if there's one thing Officer Bob took very seriously in life, it was duty. Duty above all else. Shane and Caleb were about to learn that the hard way.
INTERESTED IN THIS STORY? WANT A FOLLOW-UP CHAPTER? LET ME KNOW IN THE COMMENTS! IF YOU'RE NOT YET REGISTERED, TAKE A MINUTE TO SIGN UP AND JOIN THIS AWESOME COMMUNITY!
FOR THOSE WHO MAY HAVE MISSED THIS, THERE'S A NEW COMPATIBILITY EXERCISE DESIGNED
TO LET YOU KNOW WHICH FICTIONAL CHARACTER ON HERE YOU'D BE A GOOD MATCH FOR. OFFICER BOB IS ONE OF THE AVAILABLE MATCHES!
IF YOU WANNA SEE WHETHER OR NOT HE'D BE A GOOD MATCH FOR YOU
(EITHER AS A DOM, BONDAGE PARTNER AND/OR HUSBAND)
PROCEED TO THE BELOW-LINKED EXERCISE AND TAKE THE TEST! CLICK HERE FOR THE COMPATIBILITY EXERCISE
HOUSE ARREST
FOOT-SCENTED JUSTICE
Had my antagonist been a friend or someone closer to my age, I would've undoubtedly been struggling and yelling profanities at this point. The shoe that was being held erect at about a foot's distance from my face oozed a stench more horrendous than what I can possibly hope to describe here.
Don't get me wrong, the entire entranceway positively reeked of Bob's clinically-diagnosed foot odour, but the fumes coming out of that terrifyingly gargantuan size 14 shoe of his were just outta this world and probably potent enough to kill a grown horse! I kid you not.
Unfortunately for me, its wearer was no friend of mine, nor was I comfortable enough around him to treat him as such by batting his shoe away and playfully telling him to go fuck himself. Officer Bob was hellbent on forcing me to sample one of his trusty old bad boys, and much to my own continued panic, he wasn't about to take no for an answer.
I wanted to scream, I wanted to break down into a coughing fit and run away, but I couldn't. Bob's leathery palm and fingers had a firm grip on the back of my head, and truth be known, he was so big, so buff and so fiercely intimidating that I didn't dare raise my voice at him or curse his impossibly repugnant foot odour.
And so I just stood there, frightened, grimacing and teary-eyed as the furry-chested behemoth-cop pulled my head in closer and closer; narrowing the gap that separated my virtually terrified face from the indescribably putrescent maw of his impossibly large and freakishly gaping sneaker.
I made a last-ditch effort to try and pull away from his grip, but the leviathan-king just wouldn't have it.
"No, boi. You're going inside there whether you want it or not." he semi-amusedly warned; apparently drawing some measure of satisfaction in watching my face twist and contort.
When finally my vision went dark and the mouth of his sneaker began brushing against the contours of my grimacing visage, I gained a newfound understanding pertaining to the veracity of his words. Officer Bob wasn't lying when he said I'd be going "inside" it. The gaping wide maw of his tremendously oversized running shoe was quite literally swallowing my face whole! It was to the point where soon the entire front of my head - from the underside of my chin all the way up to my densely populated hairline - became fully wedged inside it.
"There we go, kiddo. Big whiff." the mammoth man lost no time in demanding.
It still puzzles me to this day, but I felt compelled to obey him. I'm not sure whether it was due to the irrefutably commanding tone of his voice, the sheer broadness of his torso, the mesmerizing girth of his arms and shoulders or the fact that his giant, bear paw-sized palms were clad in the sheeniest of leather gloves, but Bob's very glance was law. At least as far as I was concerned.
And so I sniffed, and not just a tentative whiff, mind you. I took a quick, but deep, almost hungry sniff.
My face was practically ears deep inside the puke-worthy chasm of Officer Bob's cyclopean running shoe, but it mattered not. I was so afraid of disobeying him after having witnessed the brutal binding and gagging of his eldest son and nephew that I dared not resist. I would have - much like Caleb - probably opened my mouth wide and immediately surrendered to his giant sockgag had I been bound up to a chair and faced with his gruffly-voiced command.
With that being said, it took less than a second for every fibre of my being to wholeheartedly regret the fear-driven whiff I'd taken out of Mr Smith's indescribably foul-smelling, decade-old trainer. I still remember the near-instantaneous burning of my eyes, the tingling of my nostrils and the bout of panicked coughing I immediately succumbed to as an overpowering combination of rotten eggs, fermenting cheese, concentrated sulfur and industrial-grade cleaning vinegar-like smells rushed in to greet my nasal passageways.
I wanted to cry out and puke, but the immediate regret I felt for having surrendered so easily to Bob's authoritarian command skyrocketed by several orders of magnitude when my temporarily cross-eyed face was pulled out of his unbelievably rotten shoe...only to be faced with the sight of his broad, beaming, pearly white grin.
The Officer's grumpy demeanour and stern no-nonsense façade had apparently been just that; a façade!
"Hahaha!" he laughed, his great big booming laughter resonating loudly across the sparsely decorated entranceway and spilling out into the adjacent living room area. I just stood there; pinching my nose shut and gasping through my mouth as the phenomenally statuesque man of the house affectionately ruffled my hair up and bent down to grab his other shoe.
"I better not catch you stealing a whiff outta my boots again, kiddo. Not unless you mean it! Next time I catch one of you ding-bats fooling around with them, I'm gonna tape both of you boys up and make you regret it." he threatened, adopting a slightly darker tone while still maintaining the cheerful smirk that had recently broken his stern façade.
I lowered my head and gulped, realising with utter certainty that his embellished threat wasn't an empty one.
"Alright little wombat, now off you go." the buff man then teasingly instructed, prodding me to leave the dreadfully potent-smelling entryway and following me out of the narrow room, still holding his unspeakably putrid, nightmare-inducing running shoes in one hand.
Bob and I parted ways at that point; my padded feet silently carrying me towards the not-so-distant washroom while his infinitely large and inexplicably moist ones slurped their way back to the privacy of the Master bedroom.
*SLURP**SLURP**SLURP**SLURP**SLURP**SLURP**SLURP*
A sigh of relief immediately left my mouth as soon as I shut the washroom door and pressed my back against it. I couldn't for the life of me believe just how unlucky I'd been, what with my friend's dad catching me about to take a whiff of his boots and all.
What could I possibly have been thinking?!
How could I have been so bloody careless and, dare I say it, stupid?!
"Good lord, Liam...get a fuckin' grip on yourself." I wordlessly scolded, frowning at the similarly frowning reflection staring back at me in the mirror.
It took a while for me to calm down and come to terms with the realisation that I couldn't undo what had transpired a few minutes earlier. I couldn't just travel back in time and fix things like they did in fuckin' Star Trek, you know. *Sigh*
I told myself I'd fix this by refraining from being awkward around Sam's dad from now on, but the little voice inside me kept reminding me of the fact that that was easier said than done. I was always a bit awkward around Sam's dad. And from that point on, probably doubly so!
In any case, by the time I finally mustered up the courage to step out of the washroom and return to my gaming buddy's bedroom, the house was no longer as eerily quiet as it had been before. Something was going on in Officer Bob's bedroom, and even though I was still a bit on edge from having been caught doing something truly embarrassing, my urge to investigate was too strong to ignore.
Imagine my disappointment when I entered the corridor leading to the house's three bedrooms, only to find that Officer Bob's door was tightly sealed shut.
I wasn't entirely certain as to what was transpiring in there, but whatever it was Bob was subjecting his gagged and chairbound prisoners to, it sounded as though they'd both devolved into a state of near-uncontrollable panic.
Muffled screams the likes of which I'd never heard resonated inside the Master bedroom before stupendously well-muffled gagging and coughing noises soon joined the fray. The desperate, gag-impeeded screaming intensified, to the point where I even took a step back from the doorway and felt my own heart pounding.
That's when a familiar growling ensued. A low, harsh, mercilessly aggressive type of growling. The type that could only be produced by Officer Bob's big, fat, frighteningly sticky-looking roll of heavy-duty industrial-grade duct tape.
Shane and Caleb had been caught putting a smaller teen through hell earlier on. And now they were going to pay tenfold for their crimes. Officer Bob would see to that. He was, after all, a man of the law, and as such, considered it his sacred duty to bring these two punks to justice. And if there's one thing Officer Bob took very seriously in life, it was duty. Duty above all else. Shane and Caleb were about to learn that the hard way.
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[mention]bondagefreak[/mention] I LOVED this chapter a lot! Officer Bob exudes confidence and the way he forced him to sniff his rancid boot was so fantastically written. I could smell that boot from through the screen....not that I'd want to lol I can't wait to see what is happening to Shane and Caleb in full, and I can't wait for the next chapter Sir!
Well Liam, you got what you deserved there. Wanted to smell his boots and get caught by him. Hope it was worth to smell his trainers. Question is do you want more or want Sam on this as well. Can't wait to see more of it, [mention]bondagefreak[/mention]
Such a hot chapter! With the vividness of the forced shoe sniffing scene, I truly felt as if my own poor face was swallowed by that fuming shoe! Can't say I wouldn't have enjoyed that though.
With Liam unable to control his attraction to Officer Bob's stinkin' shoes and to the cop in general, I stand by my old theory that Bob will soon enough have a willing submissive boi to horseplay tugs with.
Volobond wrote: ↑10 months ago
And I know y'all footbois love it but the "inexplicably moist" description of Bob's feet had me in a full-body cringe!
Haha, good! You have no idea how pleased I am to actually hear that. I hope you can tell, but Liam is similarly distraught by the chronic moistness of beefy Bob's noisily slurping soles. It freaks him out big time. As well it should!
Liam's colourful narration hopefully has a similar effect on your fellow readers...even those footboyz who are proving ever numerous on here
I think poor Liam is traumatized after that. Sadly, I doubt the little twerp learned his lesson. He may be scared, but I doubt he is scared straight. I have a feeling his urges and impulses will land him on the receiving end of officer Bob's own brand of foot scented justice sooner or later. The only question is, will sam be involved next time?
God damn, I loved the descriptions of the shoe sniffing and from the fact that Officer Bob left with his pair of decade old sneakers, I can guess what the older boys are currently facing. And it's a grim, yet extremely hot, fate.
quality story, at that time I would love to be the character in this story, Bob is so affective in real life, however for the following we can expect that the companions of our character are aware of our adventure smell or better Bob angry that his young son makes bets odorent with his friend is decided to punish him with the same magnier as his brother and cousin.
Classic dad behaviour from Officer Bob there, acting like he's seriously angry and pissed off before revealing a massive smile once his devious plan has borne fruit. I think what makes it particularly fun in this case is that we know there is actual real danger behind his joking threats.
Sadly for Shane and Caleb it sounds like Officer Bob has moved on to true chemical warfare now!
A pup is for life but especially for bondage so get out the sleepsack and muzzle.
Primo chapter Sir! I can only imagine what was going through Liam's head at the time....feeling the massive grip on the back of your head and seeing the oncoming gaping shoe approaching....his fate.... I can only seriously hope that this Liam discovery by Officer Bob and he applying his characteristic foot scent to Liam has planted a seed in the officer's mind. One that will draw the Officer to him for more fun...
This story can be found HERE.
Banner by Bondagefreak
Just a quick announcement to let you guys know that OFFICER BOB is being featured on the current B&G thread poll.
Readers are asked to vote for their favourite teams. If you're a big fan of Officer Bob, be sure to vote for Team 1!
FOR THOSE WHO MAY HAVE MISSED THIS, THERE'S A NEW COMPATIBILITY EXERCISE DESIGNED
TO LET YOU KNOW WHICH FICTIONAL CHARACTER ON HERE YOU'D BE A GOOD MATCH FOR. OFFICER BOB IS ONE OF THE AVAILABLE MATCHES!
IF YOU WANNA SEE WHETHER OR NOT HE'D BE A GOOD MATCH FOR YOU
(EITHER AS A DOM, BONDAGE PARTNER AND/OR HUSBAND)
PROCEED TO THE BELOW-LINKED EXERCISE AND TAKE THE TEST! CLICK HERE FOR THE COMPATIBILITY EXERCISE
HOUSE ARREST
FOOT-SCENTED JUSTICE
CHAPTER 7
Sam and I spent pretty much the entire afternoon gaming after that. I was, as you probably can imagine, unable to focus much during the first hour or two, but taking a break to eat lunch and then going out in the yard to play basketball for a few minutes helped me take my mind off some of the things I'd witnessed earlier that day.
Though the thunderstorm had died out and the rain appeared to have subsided, our momentary venture outside was a brief one. Pretty soon it was raining cats and dogs again and we were back indoors; gaming in Sammy's bedroom.
Officer Bob was back to being his usual calm and cheerful self. Still clad in only his snug-fitting patrol trousers, the beefy-torsoed monarch sat on the plush leather couch facing the giant TV screen; his thick leather-clad digits holding a cold beer in one hand and the TV remote in the other.
"Don't fill up on snacks, boys. Keep some room for the pizzas." he absentmindedly reminded us, keeping his eyes glued to the TV screen while Sam and I poured ourselves a bowl of crispy potato chips and filled our glasses with more carbonated soda.
Even as we hurriedly scampered back to the safety of Sammy's room, the statuesque man of the house took no notice of our grimacing faces, nor did he appear the least bit bothered by the unbearably poignant aroma that now permeated the entire living room. He just sat there, airing his positively gargantuan soles out and showing nary a hint of concern for anyone else's delicate sensitivities. Not mine, not Sammy's and certainly not Shane's or Caleb's!
The burly police officer appeared virtually unfazed by the knowledge that his own eyebrow-singeing tube socks were lodged deep in the mouths of his two non-consensually restrained and chairbound captives. No second thought had been given to the fact that his fuming wads had spent the last seven or eight days stretched taut across his giant soles and quite literally simmering inside his notoriously godforsaken police boots.
While my own mind remained preoccupied and somewhat weighed down by deranging thoughts pertaining to Shane and Caleb's heart-wrenching predicaments, Officer Bob's mind clearly was not.
His socks had served in their usual fashion - as sweat-absorbant foot rags for the week - and now they were doubling as gags; preventing his two captives from calling for help or drawing unwanted attention to themselves. Bob unashamedly seemed completely unbothered by that. And for reasons I had yet to comprehend, that made the whole situation even more...enthralling, for lack of a better term.
Does that make any sense to you?
I hope it does.
Anyways, staying true to his word, the brawny policeman actually did end up ordering pizzas later that same evening. We ate on the couch while watching the original 1986 Aliens movie, but unsurprisingly enough, I didn't have much of an appetite. The ambient foot odour that reigned supreme across the living room was already unpleasant and off-putting enough as is, but catching a glimpse of Bob's disturbingly lint-ridden toe cracks pretty much took care of cutting my appetite off completely.
I also found it a bit peculiar that the brutish officer didn't even bother taking his sheening, skintight leather patrol gloves off while he ate. Even though his two captives were dutifully secured and going nowhere, the buff man probably felt as though he were still on duty. I guess in a sense, he actually still was.
Still keeping his freakishly colossal soles propped up on the living room coffee table, the jumbo-limbed goliath-cop remained blissfully oblivious to our plight and continued sporadically wiggling his mesmerisingly fat toes around; exposing our eyes to the unsightly mixture of random crap and fermenting lint balls that lay wedged in between them.
Though the smell of feet had grown unbearably thick and poignant by that point, neither Sammy nor myself said anything about it. I was too shy to complain about Mr Smith's stomach-churning foot odour, and my friend probably knew that his jabs and verbal complaints would fall on deaf ears. Either that, or he feared that his dad would turn on him and figuratively rub salt in an open wound.
As it turns out, it was undoubtedly a mixture of both. I got a firsthand preview of Bob's jockish playfulness when, for no apparent reason and during a particularly suspenseful part of the movie, he casually raised his right thigh off the leathery couch and let rip a harrowingly thunderous fart. I was fortunate enough to be sitting on Bob's left. Poor Sammy, however, was not.
"Uggh! Daaaad!" my friend immediately cried out, breaking down into an uncontrollable coughing fit and scrambling to put some distance between himself and his visibly amused father.
I just sat there and watched as the burly police officer grabbed his desperately retreating son and wrestled the kid down. Sam fought with all the might and energy his lean, fourteen-year-old body could muster, but he was absolutely no match for the supremely well-built muscle dilf.
"Come here, you little twerp. Hahaha! Gotcha!" the brute heartily laughed, as he wrestled his comparatively puny son into a vice-like headlock and teasingly rubbed his leather-clad knuckles into the combative teen's hairy dome.
Poor Sammy cried out and groaned - no doubt more as a result of his pride taking a hit than anything else - but much to his sudden relief and my own imminent surprise, the tremendously hulking leviathan eventually turned his attention towards me and had me sharing in his youngest son's unfortunate fate.
I fought with surprising vigour, but the brawny policeman easily pulled me in for the kill. In a matter of mere seconds, I had the back of my head pressed up against his stupendously broad pectorals and the entire front of my face trapped beneath his freakishly giant palm as his other hand dug into my ribs and stomach; exploiting my defenceless weak spots and tickling me senseless.
Officer Bob's hearty laughter boomed across the living room, drowning out not only the movie audio but also my own hopelessly muffled cries of laughter.
Much to his own credit, Sammy lost no time in rejoining the melee and mounting a noble rescue attempt - albeit an ill-fated one. He jumped on the colossal patriarch and tried getting him in a headlock; something which succeeded in temporarily drawing Bob's attention away from me. I used the opportunity to try and make a run for it, but the burly police officer saw that coming from a mile away and simply barred my escape by wrapping his trouser-clad centennial oak tree-sized thighs around me as he wrestled Sammy back down; using nothing but those impossibly muscular arms of his.
"Hahaha! Oh you want some more of that? Come here, you scrawny little midget! Daddy's gonna give you some more."
My friend and I laughed and laughed as burly Bob spent the next minutes mercilessly tickling the living crap out of us. We fought, struggled and screamed, but every time our laughter became too noisy for the furry-chested tyrant's liking, those positively massive, leather-scented palms of his would clamp down over our faces and stifle our cries completely.
In any case, we actually ended up having to rewind the movie by a good twenty minutes or so, just to rewatch the scenes we'd missed and paid less attention to. Bob paused the film twice after that; once to take a quick bathroom break and grab himself another cold beer from the fridge, and a second time to check on his two prisoners and make sure the knots keeping them tightly chairbound were still intact.
As soon as the towering policeman opened his bedroom door to step in and check on his captives, my ears picked up the faintest of muffled screams. The instant the door to his bedroom was shut, however, those same hopelessly muffled laments and calls for help went back to being inaudible; a tribute to the effectiveness of Officer Bob's uncompromisingly fat, toe-scented sockgags.
No one outside of that bedroom could hear Caleb's panicked coughs or Shane's heart-wrenching cries for help.
Not us, not their friends and certainly not the neighbours.
It's only when the movie ended and my friend's dad stepped out of the house to take the garbage and recycling bin out that I managed to get a quick glimpse of what it was Shane and Caleb were both going through.
Taking advantage of the fact that Sammy was in the washroom and that his dad was cheerfully chatting with one of the neighbours, I stealthily crept over towards the Master bedroom, slowly turned the doorknob and then poked my head in through the slightly gaping doorway. As soon as I did, my eyes immediately beamed wide open. Oh. My. God.
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as always a quality story, Bob and really a good father I think, it's adorable to see him played like that with his son and his friend, I would love to meet him one day
Poor Liam seems to be too nosey for his own good! When he first got caught by Officer Bob trying to smell his boot, he made sure to truly smell his other shoes. If he now gets caught peeking at the police man's victims, he'll surely join them in their bound faith. So either he's really sneaky about it or he should be a master scout kid to pick loose all the many knots that will restrain him.
Amazing chapter as usual but oh, cliffhanger!
Bob seems like a jockish, but kind-hearted father who is purely just disappointed in his rebellious son. He also just seems like a fun guy to hang around with haha
After all of the stuff Bob had to endure with the restraining of his older son and nephew, it was nice to see him relaxing and being playful to his younger son and Liam to try and forget about the ordeal. Even when Sam and Liam were playfully wrestling with him and getting their mouths clamped down while tickling them senselessly.
Now you left us with a cliffhanger, [mention]bondagefreak[/mention]. Can't wait to see what Caleb and Shane are doing currently. Liam better be careful or he may join them.
I think we ALL know what Liam's compulsion arose from.
I can only seriously hope that this Liam discovery by Officer Bob and he applying his characteristic foot scent to Liam has planted a seed in the officer's mind. One that will draw the Officer to him for more fun... 
this story is taking an interesting turn.