Self tie – Chapter 2 - An afternoon of soccer bondage (mm/m)

[overkneesoccersocks]

Part 1 - Prelude to an afternoon of soccer bondage (mm/m)

For those of you who have been following my tales, this is the second chapter, following the events that unfolded earlier that week. For those who have not yet caught up, have a look at the story Self tie – Chapter 1 - caught by my soccer team mate Chris (m/m).

If you do not have time to catch up just now with what happened in lead up to the events described below, here is a brief summary.
My name is Mats. At the time, I lived at home with my mum and dad and my 2 sisters.One Wednesday afternoon, I had the place to myself and decided to do some self bondage. After having tied myself up rather strictly, I suddenly realized I was not not able to get out. I lay there tightly bound and gagged in soccer kit, when suddenly, my team mate Chris popped round and found me like that. After the initial surprise, He decided to have some fun with me - which ended up with my mum finding me tied up in my room, together with my other team mate Tom, who was also tightly tied. The awkwardness of it all, the strange feelings that overran me whilst being tied, being found out by my mum and her reaction - there is plenty of detail and some pics to be found in Chapter 1.

Chris had taken some pictures and threatened to expose me to the team and worse even, my girlfriend.
He was going to have a second go at tying me up. Although I was not sure if this was a good idea, I went along with it in a rush of excitement, testosterone and thrill. Still not sure why I did this. Although I have been tied up many times since, something special like this has never happened to me since. Looking back, I am really grateful this happened to me, which is why I wanted to share this on this forum and also see what you feel and think about this.

The story line is real, events took place as described. Names have been altered for privacy reasons. I have granted myself some editorial freedom in terms of dialogue but have tried to stay as close to the memory I have of the series of events that took place that week and in the few weeks thereafter.

Hope you enjoy this second part and do read Chapter one if you can...

Oh and yes, I have a thing for long soccer socks and soccer uniforms. I am a goalie in my local team and always wear my socks pulled up high, over the knee, hence the name .
I have done this as long as I have been playing football. That Saturday, I had had a quiet breakfast after having spent the night tied up and gagged and had gotten ready for my soccer game, putting on my goalie kit and protection: blue shorts and t-shirt, white long socks up to my thighs, shin and ankle guards over the white sock, blue adidas team socks covering the shin and ankle guards, pulled up over my knees as well.

Here is what happend next.

Part 2 - Chris steps it up a notch

After breakfast, I just hung around in my room. Around 9.30 am, I got a new text from Chris.

Time to get going precious! – waiting for you in the changing room.

The game would start at 11 am.
Warm up would start at 10.15am – this was way too early.

My heart started pounding. I was really excited about this. Chris and Tom surely wanted to let me in on what they had in store for me after the game.

My fantasy started running wild.

I put on my trainers, pulled my socks up further up my thighs and put my track suit and winter coat on.
I went downstairs, placed my goalie bag on my bike and rode to the pitch. The soccer pitch was only a 10-minute ride away from my place so soon thereafter, I arrived.

When I arrived, it must have been close to 10 am. It was a cold winter morning. Mist was hanging over the pitch. The sight was actually quite nice. The pitch was located adjacent to a century old forest, at the backside of a posh international school.

Our team used the pitch for training and games. The infrastructure was immaculate.
I locked my bike in the bike rack, took off my coat and swung my goalie bag and coat over my shoulder and started making my way to the changing rooms. I was the first one to arrive it seemed.

“Chriiis??” I shouted.
“Tooom”?

No answer.

I also did not see their bikes so I guess I was the first one to arrive.

I opened his text from earlier again.

It read…waiting for you in the changing room…

I decided to go to the changing rooms. These were located in a nice building some 200 meters away from the immaculate mist covered soccer pitch. It was a multipurpose building, used to store lots of expensive sporting equipment and boasted 4 large changing rooms with wooden benches, private lockers, 4 shower rooms with shared showers, 4 private changing rooms and showers - for referees I guessed - , and a very nice pub styled bar.

“Chriiis??”

“Tooom”?

I shouted again, entering the building through the side entrance, which the green keeper opened earlier that morning as usual.

There was a green keeper living on site, guarding the premises during weekends and nights and maintaining the different sports pitches and large school garden.

Still no reply.

Where are you guys? I am here! I texted.

I decided I would make my way to the changing room and wait for Tom and Chris there. I hung my coat at the coat rack at the far end of the corridor.

I felt an agonizing thrill.
I knew I was going to be tied up again after the game.
It was all very exciting – not knowing what exactly they had in store for me.
I was looking forward to the game, but a lot more excited about what would happen afterwards.

I walked through the long corridor back to the HOME TEAM changing room and opened the door.

Suddenly, a hand was clamped strongly around my face and mouth.

“MMMPPH”

I turned around. The hand loosened its grip.

“Hi Mats” Chris replied.

“Hey” I replied.

Now that I was standing there, I started to have second thoughts .
I was all of a sudden not sure anymore if this was the best of ideas.
Now that Chris was there.
Reality replaced fantasy.
But he was here now and so was I.

“Not cool mate” I turned to him and shouted, punching him in the stomach (not hard, but hard enough) and again on his shoulder.

I was still angry with Chris for leaving me tied up so long and eventually to be discovered by my mum. I did not yet have a chance to pay him back and this was only small change.

I had not yet forgiven him.

“This shit you pulled” - “Really not cool”

I punched him in the stomach a second time.

This time harder but still kind off playful.

Chris took the punches and actually needed a few moments to catch his breath again – (sucker, I thought)

Slightly bent forward and with his hands on his knees he coughed: “I guess “ - he coughed - “ I deserved that”.

He put his one hand on my shoulder, trying to get up again.

“You must admit it was fun though no?” he grinned.

“You liked it very much, I know that – I saw it!!!” he exclaimed whilst looking straight at my crotch.

I ignored his remark and turned my head away.

“Still, no hard feelings hey?” he smiled at me, putting his right hand now on my other shoulder.

Suddenly I felt a great pain in my groin.
Chris had just kicked me hard with his knee.

I fell onto the floor, both of my hands covering the area that was hurting like hell (I occasionally had a soccer ball kicked in that same area and it hurts big time – especially when it is wintery cold).

Chris’ kick was not as hard as that, but enough for me to go down and squirm.

With that, he took both my arms, pulled my back up and pushed both arms behind my back.

"hey what gives..." I shouted.

“Now” he shouted back, not at me.

Tom came running out of the changing room with rope in his hands.

“Hey” I shouted, still a bit shaken from that surprise kick – “deal was after the game”.

“Deal changed” Tom simply replied.

With Chris holding my wrists crossed behind my back, Tom proceeded to tie them tightly in a cris-cross fashion, next Tom tied my elbows tightly together.

Chris now sat on top of my legs, holding my body still and preventing me from kicking with my legs.
I shouted and attempted to fight their attempts to bind me. To no avail.

They each put an arm under my armpit and pushed me up and then forward into the changing room. I stumbled in, arms bound behind my back. Tom then went back and brought in my goalie bag and closed and locked the door behind him.

Chris proceed to push me onto the wooden bench in the middle of the changing room and tied a rope in between my tied wrists and tied it to one of the legs of the bench, tightly. My attempts to get up where stopped by Tom pushing me down hard .

I could not move up, left or right.

“Shit guys, that was NOT the deal” I was angry as hell.

“You are not in charge here” Chris simply rejected my protest.

He walked over to his soccer bag and took out the roll of duct tape and an the old black soccer sock he texted me about the day before and walked up to me.

“This conversation works betters if one of us shuts up for a while” he said.

Suddenly, Tom took my head in a (friendly but firm headlock) and Chris pinched my nose, as I had pushed my lips firmly against each other, knowing they were going to try to gag me.

I needed air and the second I gasped for air, he started to shove the black soccer sock in my mouth.

“NOoaahhhhmmmpp”
"Just take in the sock" he said.

Intuitively, I started to push it out with my tongue.
Chris took to my sides and started tickling me heavily.
Laughing out hard, I opened my mouth even wider and he pushed in the remainder of the sock.
My cheeks now bulging from the soccer sock within.

“MMMPPH”.

Chris’ hand was pushing gently against my lips - pushing in the last bits of sock sticking out.

“now close your mouth Mats, …. take in the sock - stop resisting” he ordered.

“otherwise this can become very uncomfortable”.

“It’s good advise” Tom added. “Take it from me”.

I gave both of them an angry look : "mmmmmppph" (fuck you guys).

I eventually complied and tried pushing my lips as close to one another as possible.

Chris proceeded to place a few strips of tape over my lips and bulging cheeks.
Each strip bigger than the one before, until he finally slapped on a large piece of tape, covering my mouth and face ear to ear, nose to chin.

He carefully rubbed the tape against my face, making sure the tape was all nice and flat, sticking against my face.
The taste of his (luckily washed) soccer sock, which started to slowly sink in, was not great but not bad either.

He then proceeded to put tape around my head 3 or 4 times, with me grunting the entire time.

He taped it quite tight.
I could now see my own tape gagged face in the mirror opposite.
My cheeks bulging over the tape which covered the front of my face, the tape extending all the way around my head. This was not going to come off easily.
Luckily I have short hair, I thought.

It felt great though.
The tape gag.

They noticed.

I “mmmmmppph” and hung my head down in defeat.

“See, told you this would work better” Chris stood back and gave a high five to Tom.

“Now” Chris continued “here is what we have in store for you Mats. I am sure you will like it”.

[MaxRoper]

Good continuation. I like the short paragraphs and the dialog is well done. I'm a bit worried about the team with their star goalkeeper indisposed.
You write well and obviously spend time proofreading and editing. Thanks for posting! I'm definitely looking forward to more.

[overkneesoccersocks]

Part 3 – No time.

“Shit”

“Shit”

Tom suddenly cursed. He turned his wrist watch to Chris.

“no time” he exclaimed.

“Damn !” Chris confirmed.

“Mmmmmph” (No time for what?).

“Sorry Mats, no time – warm up starts in 5”

“MPH?” (What?) I looked at both of them with puzzled eyes.

Without any further explanation, Tom quickly proceeded to untie the rope securing my wrists to the bench and pulled me up. Chris meanwhile swooped up his soccer bag AND MY goalie bag, swung them over his shoulder and walked towards the Changing Room door.

“Mmmph??” (What is happening guys?!)

I ran towards the door as well, hands tied, but was stopped in my tracks by Tom who pulled me back in, still holding the end of the rope attached to my wrist rope. “mmmmppph”.

“Can you take care of Mats?” Chris asked Tom.

“euh, sure…” Tom replied slowly. He seemed distracted. His gaze was wondering around the changing room. He was looking for something.

“Mmmppphh??” (What do you mean take care of Mats?) I interrupted.

His gaze locked in on the shower room door.

Without further explanation Tom pushed me in that direction.

“Come on Mats” he instructed.

Chris unlocked the changing room door and walked out into the corridor. I struggled against Tom’s grip, who’s right hand on my shoulder guided me towards the shower room instead. I looked back at Chris. With the changing room door open, I noticed the sign on the door for the first time.

It said “Bezoekers”
(Dutch for “Visitors”).

This was not our changing room!

The Visitor’s changing room was opposite ours. Somehow, with Chris kicking me down and them tying my arms behind my back, I had not noticed we did not enter our changing room but he Visitors’ changing room instead.

With Chris gone, Tom now violently pushed me in the direction of a wall cupboard, next to the shower room door. Our changing room cupboard was used to store towels.
The Visitor’s one was always empty, except for some brooms and a bucket.
Opening the door, he pushed me in, almost making me stumble over the bucket inside.

I turned around and tried kicking Tom and pushing back with my shoulders against his.
I pushed as hard as I could. I wanted to get out.
Me locked in the cupboard was a no go!

Tom pushed back hard. With my hands and arms bound, the fight was unfair.
“Come on, get in” Tom dragged me in by my arms “there is no time”.

“MMmmpph” (Nooooo) I kept resisting and kicking.

“Stop it Mats!!” Tom shouted.

“You are going in for now, like it or not”.

“MMmmpph” I kicked his leg.

“Ok! your choice” he said angrily.

He held the rope tied between my wrists tightly and pulled me out.
I stumbled over the bucket and fell onto the floor, knees first and then onto my side.

Tom let go of the rope and left me lying on the floor.
He walked over to the bench, took the roll of duct tape and ran back to me.

He grabbed the ropes binding my elbows together and pulled hard.
He pulled me back to the cupboard, whilst I kept squirming and resisting.

He let go of the rope again and sat on my legs, pushing me backward into the cupboard again. In the skirmish that took place, both of my trainers had come off.

He eventually managed to push me in, now sitting on top of my lower legs and starting to wrap tape around my thighs.

Tom’s first few attempts to secure my thighs together failed as I was moving too much. The tape hanging loosely around my knees. He then pushed with his entire body weight against me and with a big “COME ON” , squeezed my back against the back wall of the cupboard, clamping my feet between his. With my legs now barely able to move, he had a second go at taping my thighs. This time he was more successful.

With my thighs now securely taped, he could more easily wrap more tape below my knees, finishing off by taping my ankles tight.

I looked at Tom with my biggest puppy eyes, pleading him not to leave me tied up like that.

“mmmmpppphh” (Please noo…)

“SSHHHHHT Mats, you stay put in here ok?”.

Not ok!

“I will come and get you once they are out on the pitch warming up right? OK?” he looked at me apologetically - speaking fast and with a dimmed voice.

“I am really sorry mate, this was not in the script” he added hastily, getting up and leaving the cupboard door ajar ever so slightly.

“Mmmmpph” I kicked it open with my taped legs, and tried to worm out again.

Not in the script….
Leaving me tied like that in the visitor’s team’s changing room?
I think not.

“Shit Mats – stay inside” he pushed me back in, hard.
Whilst sitting purged up with my back against the cupboard wall, he grabbed hold of my bound ankles and pushed. My knees went up and he sat on top of my feet.
He proceeded to tape my upper and lower legs together in a frog tie, looping the tape around and around and around.

The black soccer sock in my mouth was now completely soaked and the smaller strips of tape covering my lips were coming loose from the sweat my struggles had caused.

“There” Tom said.

“Mmmpph” I shouted back, throwing him angry looks.

“Now stay put!”

“I will not lock the door ok?” I heard him say with a dimmed voice whilst he left the door ajar again. I could see his eyes looking for mine through the small air vent that was fitted in the door, somewhere halfway.

“If something is not right, you squirm out, ok? I will come and get you after warm-up. Don’t worry. Just try not to make any noise. Back in 15 minutes or so”..

“Mmmpph”? (not make any noise)

“Shhht !!” he warned.

“YOUR’S IS HERE” I heard Chris’ loud voice echoing in from the corridor.

He walked in, followed by the visitor’s team players.

“Showers are through here” he continued, walking past the cupboard door, where I sat tied and gagged.

“See you on the pitch”, he concluded.

I could see Tom looking back at the cupboard door he left slightly ajar.

He turned around and together with Chris, he walked out.

I could see some of the last visitor’s team players walking in, throwing their bags onto the floor and settling in.

As silently as I could, I squirmed to the back of the cupboard, turning my body so I could see somewhat better out through the air vent of the cupboard door.

I must admit I had fantasized about something like this happening to me many times before, often when alone in my room if you get my drift. Being tied up in a room full of people, hidden, out of sight. Knowing you are tied up and helpless and you could be found out at any moment. Having been found tied and gagged by my own mum earlier that week, seemed to have somewhat emboldened me and taken away some of the fear of being found.

Not all of it though.

This time, I was shitting it.
What if they actually found me like this?

I heard the sounds of bags being opened, studs on the changing room floor, boys making jokes, ...

If I could get the gag off, I thought, I might be able to bite into the tape securing my lower legs to my upper legs.

Through the air vent in the cupboard door, I could hear and see, the visitor’s team undressing and putting on their soccer kit: shin guards, match shirts, shorts and socks. Some of them taping their ankles first.

Whilst watching them, I kept chewing on the soccer sock in my mouth. Trying to push it out with my tongue. It now felt as if most of the strips of tape had now come off and the tape looped around my head started to loosen as well. My sweaty cheeks must have dissolved some of the stickiness of the tape. My legs started to hurt from the tight tape frog tie. Tom had taped them really tight in his anger.

I could see the Visitor’s goalie pulling his soccer socks over his shin guards and then his knees and then folding them down again. The goalie’s kit was neon yellow: shirt, shorts and socks. Their team kit was all white though. White Nike T-shirts and shorts and white Nike soccer socks. Some of them wore another pair of soccer socks underneath, others ankle socks, ...

With my tongue, I kept pushing against the back of the sock in my mouth. It pushed against the tape which shifted down somewhat but not enough for me to spit out the soccer sock. A small portion of the sock was now pushed out and hanging out over the tape gag. The wet soccer sock giving off a smell now. I clamped my teeth around the part of the sock that was still in my mouth, preventing it from slipping back in.

I suddenly heard a loud thud and the cupboard door fell shut. I could only see the back of someone’s white soccer socked legs. One of the players must have leaned back against the cupboard door. ?!

[overkneesoccersocks]

Part 4 – My trainers - the unexpected road to freedom

I heard this boy's voice through the door.

“laisse-les, ils sont à moi”.
(French for Leave them, those are mine)

No idea what he was talking about. I did understand and spoke French, having grown up in a bilingual family.

“Je les ai vu en premier, donnez-les"
(I saw them first, give them here)

What was he one about?

“Superbe” I heard him say.
Great

“A moi”.
Mine

Suddenly, the cupboard door swung open and a pair of trainers was tossed in.

My trainers!

The door was quickly closed again.

They landed straight on my face.

“Mmmpph”.

Shit.

The door opened again.

A boy appeared in the half-opened door. He was dressed in his team kit, white t-shirt, shorts and soccer socks, pulled up right under his knees.

He wore classic Adidas Copa soccer cleats and had tied the long black laces around his ankles. I remember this well as at one point, I also wore those cleats and I would also tie the excessively long black laces around my ankles, instead of around my cleats, as most boys did at the time.

The sight of his white socks pulled up distracted me momentarily. He had rather thin legs but wore very thick shin guards underneath. Very high up. He had half long blond hair, pushed back by a hair band. He stared straight at me with his brown eyes.
There was no surprise in his gaze.
He just stood there, looking at me, taking in the sight that met his eyes.
He popped his head in the cupboard and asked me:

“Ça va?”
(Are you ok?)

I simply nodded yes.

He did not react as one would expect: surprised, astonished, startled. None of that. He just acted as if nothing was wrong.

“T’es sur?”
(are you sure?)

I nodded again to confirm.

“Seb (short for Sebastian I found out later – French speakers often abbreviate first names), tu parle avec qui la?”
(Who are you talking to?)

“Personne” he replied, keeping his eyes locked onto mine.
(No-one)

With that, he closed the door again.
My heart started racing, but I tried to stay still and not make a sound.This boy, this Seb, he did not gave off any sign of interest. He just seemed to have taken stock of the situation as is and decided that this had nothing to do with him...

My thoughts wandered off to something Tom had said earlier: this was not in the script .
They had prepared a script?!?!?

They did.
I found out later, talking to Tom and Chris, they had indeed.
They apparently spent the entire Friday evening coming up with an elaborate script of how they were going to tie me up, where and with what and then went out early on Saturday, to buy the necessary supplies and to ready the scene for the tie up plans they had in store for me. And what plans they were.

Their initial plan was for me to be tied up to the towel rack during warm up in one of the private shower rooms in a kneeling position, sock and tape gagged and me wearing my goalie uniform. This was supposed to be my warm-up.

Chris had read up on how to do a body rope harness. They would attempt to tie a body harness on me, underneath my shirt and shorts and I would have to play the game with the rope harness on.

After the game, I would be elaborately tied up in one of the private changing rooms for at least 1 hour with a challenge to escape again.

However, for each Visitor’s goal, I would spend 1 extra hour being tied up after the game, irrespective of whether we had won or not.
If I could not get free, they would add one rope after each hour.

The detail they put in developing their elaborate tie up positions was scary I can tell you.

Only, their timing being off early on and now with this boy Seb (or Sebastian as I read later on the visitor’s players list) having seen me tied up in the wall cupboard, events were no longer following their script.

I was brought back to the reality of my predicament by the distinctive sound of studs leaving the changing room. They were going out and on to the pitch to do their warm-up. With the sound of studs fading away, silence returned and I relaxed once more. Tom would be there soon.

“MMMMppph. I let out a big sigh.

I could hear the sound of soccer cleats in the distance, clacking and echoing against the corridor walls. Both teams should be out and on the pitch right now.

“Click clack - click clack - click clack - click clack - click clack - click clack – CLACK!”.

The cupboard door swung open.

I was greeted by the sight of this Seb boy, standing in the door opening. He must have been 1.75cm tall. Blond half long hair with a hair band in, as said before, dressed entirely in his team white Nike kit, now with his soccer socks slightly covering his knees.
He kneels down and asks again.

“Ça va?”
(Are you ok?)

“Qu-est-ce que tu fais ici”
(What are you doing in here?)

“Qui t’a ligoté?”
(Who tied you up?)

“Mmmph” was all I could reply.

He noticed my hoody with our teams crest on it.
He took in the situation and decided to pull me out of the cupboard.
Even though he knew I could not speak, he kept talking to me as if I could, not necessarily expecting an answer it appeared,

“C’est ton team, tes coéquipiers qui ont fait ça?
(Did your team or your teammates do this to you?)

“Mmmpph” I nodded.

“Je vais te libèrer, ou veux-tu ou dois-tu rester comme ça?”
(Shall I untie you or do you want to or need to stay tied up?)

I simply nodded yes.

"Liberé ou ligoté?"
(Which one is it, free or tied up?)

I looked at him, turning my bound legs to him and moving my taped face forward in an attempt to say - untie me please.
"mmmppH".

"Ok" he said.

He first tried to pull down the tape gag, taped around my head but the tape was still on too tight.
The part of the sock sticking out was not enough to enable him to pull down the gag.

“Désolé eh, je n’y arrive pas”
(Sorry mate, this is not working)

He then decided to try and pull at the tape tying my upper and lower legs together.
I could hear the sound of tape being ripped.
He managed to remove the tape tying my lower legs to my upper legs.

“Voila, c’est déjà ça”
(That is already that) he tried to comfort me.)

He then proceeded to do the same with the tape tying my ankles, knees and thighs together. Once these were ripped off, he knelt further down onto one of his socked knees, and helped me up. When he was on one knee, I could clearly see his shin guard underneath his white socks. He wore them really high. Not as I did, mid shin. His came right up to under his knees. After he got me up, he proceeded to walk me to the bench in the middle of the Changing Room.

“Oolah” I heard him say.
(wow).

“Qui a fait ça?”,
(who tied tis)
he said looking at the bindings of my elbows and wrists.

“C'est vraiment fermement attaché” he continued
(This is really tightly tied).

“Je ne suis pas sûr de pouvoir te libérer” he said, “Je pense avoir besoin de ciseaux”
(Not sure I can get you out like this, I think I will need scissors).

“Je reviens tout de suite.”
(Back in a sec).

With that he walked over to his private locker on the other side of the room. He typed in the key code and opened the door. He pulled out his soccer bag, zipped it open and produced a small scissor.

“Voila, ça ira mieux” he exclaimed, smiling at me.
(That should do the trick).

The sound of his studs reverberated through the room while he walked back over to me Click Clack click clack…
I was looking at the cupboard door, sitting on the bench with my arms and hands still tightly bound behind my back and the bloody soccer sock still inside my mouth, preventing me from speaking.

In actual fact, I did not want to be untied at all,
I wanted to remain tied up. However, it would be weird to admit to that to a complete stranger.
Seen as this boy only seemed to have good intentions, I decided I would let him continue untying me.

He started to work on the ropes binding my elbows first.
I could feel his tiny scissors trying to cut through the thick hemp rope Tom used to bind my arms and hands.

It did not seem to work at all.

“You got some help Mats?” Chris exclaimed, walking in.

The boy turned around, clearly startled, and immediately stopped any attempt at further freeing me.

I just sat there on the bench, frozen.

[overkneesoccersocks]

Guiding thoughts - I spent at least a couple of years tying myself up in my room or somewhere around the house. Always making sure I would not be caught. Always making sure I would have a way out, or something close by to help me cut myself free. The thought of being seen or caught tied up frightened the hell out of me. I guess this also had something to do with me really liking being tied up and wanting to experiment with it and discover my likes and dislikes and at the same time, coming to terms with this fascination for soccer outfits and bondage. At that age, it is already difficult enough going through the challenges puberty throws at you. Some people find it easy to give it a place in their life. I quite quickly accepted that this was who I was, I simply liked soccer outfits and bondage.
Experimenting with my fascination, I discovered for example that I like bondage most when it involves rope ties. Don't care too much for zip ties, tape or cuffs (not so much fun struggling), but will go along with it occasionally. I experimented with different types of gags as well. Tape, sock, ball gag, ... finding out that the combination of ball gag and sock over mouth are the most effective silencers.

Being seen tied up and gagged by someone else was an entirely different story though. That scared the living daylights out of me. Until that one afternoon, First Chris, then Tom and then my mum saw me tied up and tied me up. Not only that, the fact that they reacted the way they did made that I enjoyed being tied up by others (especially by Tom and Chris) very much. My first real tie up experience was a great one.

I discovered an entirely new aspect of tie up games that I liked very much.

The feeling of being tied arms and hands behind my back and still gagged with a sock in my mouth in that changing room, with a complete stranger in the room, in a trusted environment was a fantastic experience. The fact that this Seb boy did not seem to judge, simply observe, assess and act was great. It all added to the experience of that day. I do realize that things can also take a turn for the worse, and certainly will not minimize the risks. However, in my experience, that seems to be the exception. Most people do not have malicious intent. But, better safe than sorry is always a good mantra.

[overkneesoccersocks]

Part 5 – Turning tables.

I expected Tom to walk in. Not Chris.

The boy turned to Chris and stumbled:
“Je l’avais simplement trouvé comme ca..:”
(I just found him…that’s all)

Chris just stood there silent.
He walked over to me, ignoring the boy and pulled me up from the bench.
With that, he pushed me out of their changing room and into the corridor. Walking on my soccer socks, I slipped with almost every step and had a hard time keeping my balance on the slippery floor.

When we walked out, I turned my head and looked at Seb. He was adjusting his shin guards and folding his socks back down. When he looked up, he just looked back at me without any expression. He simply shook his shoulders as if to say – I tried.

Chris pushed me into the corridor and kept pushing me towards one of the private changing rooms.

“Punishment will follow Mats, punishment..”.
“For trying to escape” he added.


With that he pushed open the door of the second private changing room.

“MMMMPPH” I heard coming from inside.

It was semi-dark inside. Chris gave me another push in the back, shut the door and locked it.
I slid into the room on my socks.

He switched on the light.

“MMMMMPPH”.

Tom.

Tom just lay there on the ground.
Tightly tied up.
His cleats taken off, his socked feet tightly tied together.
Chris’ work surely I imagined.

“Quiet” Chris shouted at Tom.

Poor Tom. Tied up again. and he did not like it one bit.

I saw my goalie bag and a large collection of ropes sitting on the changing room bench.

“Mmmmph?” I interjected.

“You too !” Chris told me sternly.
“I will deal with you in a second” he told me.

He sat me on the chair in the corner of the changing room and tied the rope, still tied to my wrist rope to the back of the chair.

“MMMMPPH” Tom kept shouting -“MMMPPH”. He was not going anywhere soon.

He was dressed in our team kit - red adidas shirt, black adidas shorts and red adidas socks with three white stripes on top. As usual, he wore his socks folded back under his knees. They were actually very low, barely covering his shin guards.

With his cleats taken off, his feet, ankles and knees were tightly tied with hemp rope, each time tightly kept together with another rope, looped in between his feet, ankles and knees. His thighs were tied in two places, just above the knees and quite close to his crotch, much in the same way.

I wondered if it hurt, the hemp rope tied so tightly around his legs and no sock or shin guard to protect his legs.

His hands, for what I could see, were tied tightly behind his back with another rope binding his upper arms to his body.

There was another rope tied as some sort of harness around his shoulders and the back of his neck, which at the back was connected to the rope binding his feet together, clearly pulled into a very tight and what looked like a very uncomfortable hogtie.

His ankles also being tied strictly to his upper thighs.
He was struggling to get free, but I could see hardly any movement, because of the strict tie he was in, all the while shouting into his gag.

His cheeks were bulging from something that was pushed into his mouth, I guessed the other half of Chris’ old pair of soccer socks. That was being held in by tape, which I could see sticking out from underneath the 2 soccer socks that Chris had tied around Tom’s head.

“MMMMPPH”

“Just a second” Chris said to Tom.

Chris untied Tom’s hogtie rope, who was clearly very glad to be regain some freedom, moving his bound legs up and down.

"Now be quiet" he ordered Tom.

Chris then walked over to me.

“Now, you?” he smirked.

“There is not much time as I need to play the game and coach already told me that if you are a no-show, I will stand in so I will need your goalie kit.”

“I will first do something about that gag of yours” he said, pointing at the small bit of sock that stuck out over the tape gag, still tightly wound around my head.

With that, he took a small pocket knife and put one of his fingers in between the tape and my face and carefully cut the tape with the knife. Once that was done, he removed the tape from around my face and allowed me to spit out the old soccer sock. It hurt when he removed the tape from the back of my head, pulling out some hairs.

“euheuheuheu” I coughed.

“eueuhcheuchech” I really needed to adjust to breathing through my mouth again, which had become very dry, after the sock had soaked up all my saliva.

Chris did not untie my arms or hands though.

“I know I agreed to letting you tie me up all day, but this is not ok Chris. I really would like to play the game” I started.

“Did I give you permission to speak?” he asked.

“MMMMPPPH” Tom just kept on shouting in his gag.

“OR YOU?” Chris kicked Tom’s bound legs.

Ignoring both, I continued “I really want to play Chris. You can tie me up afterwards, I am not trying to get out of our agreement. I promise you.”

Chris acted as if he did not hear anything.

“Stand up” he ordered.

“Did you hear me” I tried again.

“GET UP” he ordered again.

“Come on Chris” I kept trying…

He yanked me up from the chair.

“I said, GET UP!”. He was liking this sub-dom roleplay a bit too much…

With that, he started to untie the ropes binding my arms to my body. Next he untied my wrists as well.
He went through my goalie bag and produced another pair of shorts, t-shirt and socks in the colour way of our team kit. I was rubbing my wrists and arms, looking at the clear rope marks the hemp rope had already created.

“You can wear these, I will take yours” he laughed.

To this day, I still do not know exactly why, but at that moment, something clicked. I had allowed Chris to have his way with me, tying me up. However, he did seem to make things up as he went along. Even though I understood later this was not the case, at the time, it certainly did seem like that. I was not having it.

Chris was getting into this a bit too much and after haphazardly having spent time tied and gagged in the cupboard, I was not sure what else he had in store for me. I did not mind being tied up but somehow, I decided I had had enough for the day and that it was time to turn the tables on Chris.

“Ok” I said to Chris, and reluctantly started to take off my goalie stuff. I dressed down to my boxers and undershirt , put on my shin guards again and handed my kit and socks to Chris, who started to put it on.

“I thought it would be nice to see you boys both tied up in team kit” Chris went on.

He seemed very much caught up in the moment. This was my chance.

I let him put on my goalie kit, which he put on much the same way as I did.

“Wow Mats” he exclaimed “this is one hell of a long pair of soccer socks” pulling up my white over the knee goalie socks over his knees.

While he was putting on my goalie gear, I put on our team kit, red Adidas shirt, black shorts and red Adidas socks with 3 white stripes. Just like Tom.

Tom was still shouting in his gag. Just like earlier that week, he clearly had a dislike for being tied up. He looked great though, fighting his bonds, clearly working up a sweat.

Chris sat down on the chair in the corner of changing room to put on his cleats. This was my moment.
After pulling up my red soccer socks, I grabbed the role of duct tape and ran over to the chair, pushed Chris back and sat on his lap.

“Oh no you don’t!!!” he shouted.

I pushed him down onto the chair with my body weight. With a lot of struggling and fighting, I was able to wrap a first loop of tape around his arms and body, securing his body to the back of the chair. I kept on wrapping the tape around his body whilst Chris kept shouting.

“Oh no you don’t Mats, you are so dead”…

I disregarded his threats. He knew he was not able to get out anymore. I had won, for now.

With Chris tied to the chair, I stood up and walked over to pick up the soaked black soccer sock that Chris shoved into my mouth earlier. He kept cursing and threatening me.

Once he saw his own soaked and wet soccer sock he changed his tune:

“Oh no , no no no nOOOO NOO,” Chris started protesting.

“Be a good boy and take the sock” I ordered him. I sounded much more bad guy that I intended.
This was fun!

“We can do this the nice way or the hard way, either way it is going in you bastard” I told him.
"Keeping me tied up like that all afternoon" reminding him of the predicament he left me in.

He weighed up his options and started screaming “HHHEEEEEELLLLLEEPP !!”.

“Bad choice” I replied.

I quickly went over to him and stood behind the chair, taking his head into a headlock.

“HHEEEEELLLPP” he continued shouting.

“HHEEELLLMMMMMPPpphh” I pushed the sock in violently. I kept shoving it in hard with my free hand.

“MMMPPPH” he shouted.

He squirmed but I was able to control his movement with my arm, tightly braced around his neck.
I shoved the entire sock in and took the tape.

“Now, take in the sock Chris and close your lips, it is good advice you know” I smiled.

Realizing he was defeated, he closed his lips around the sock, his cheeks now bulging with his own soccer sock inside. I did not bother with tape strips and instead wrapped the tape 5 or 6 times around his head. Tight.

Tables turned. Finally.

[Sniffmyfeet]

I wouldn't mind swapping places. I like the style of your writing.

[luju]

I love this story. Wish I was you in all parts and having friends like this

[overkneesoccersocks]

Thanks! Glad you like it.

[Canuck100]

Turnabout is fair play! Loving your story.

[overkneesoccersocks]

Part 6 - Revenge, finally

I managed to tape Chris to the chair in the private changing room. He was mad as hell. Sitting there taped to the back of the chair and with his own black soccer sock in his mouth, tightly taped shut. He was shouting through his gag non stop.

"A little upset?" I taunted him.

"I am not done with you yet" I told him.

With that, I walked over to his soccer bag and sure enough, found lots more of stuff I could use. I took my time rummaging through the things he bought to tie me up with.

I took a few pieces of hemp rope and walked over to Chris again.

"Now, as I said, we can do this the nice way or the hard way"

"MMMMMPPPH"

"What's that Chris?" I smiled. "Not sure I got that".

"MMMMMPPPH".

"Really?, your choice".

With that, I took his legs with my right arm and lifted them up. I started to tie rope in loops around his ankles. Tight, but not too tight. I finished it off by tying a rope in between his ankles, pulling the bind around his ankles tight.

Next, I did the same with his legs, right under his knees.

He legs now tightly tied, I tied his feet together as well. He had not yet put on his cleats, which made it somewhat easier to get rope around and in between his feet. I connected a small strand of rope between his feet and ankle ropes, making sure he could not simply push his feet rope off.

"MMMMMPPH"

Tom squirmed and tried to get my attention. I turned to him.

"Sorry Tom, I know this was not part of the script", I said sarcastically " but I think there is enough here for me to finish it for you. You are just unlucky I guess. Always getting caught in the middle. Leaving me tied up in that closet...."

I ignored Tom's muffled plea to release him and turned my attention back to Chris, who seemed to look increasingly worried.

I wanted to tie his hands behind his back, but when I pushed him in the chair, I could only wrap the tape around his body, strapping his arms tightly against his body, not behind his back.

I decided to tie his legs further before attempting to cut the tape and tie his wrists behind his back.

With that, I started to tie his upper legs, right above the knee and right under his crotch.

I tied his knees much the same way as I tied his ankles and lower legs, after having pulled my goalie soccer socks further up his thighs. They looked like long stockings, were it not for the shin guards you could clearly identify underneath his socks.

I then moved to tie his thighs right under his crotch, tying the rope in loops around his upper legs. I then took another piece of rope and started to tie it in between his legs, further securing the loops I had tied before.

It was fun tying someone else up. I had done it before, but not like this. I had more in store for them. I was going to tie them up in a way I had often fantasized about.

I took the ends of the rope I tied in between his upper legs and pulled it behind his back, looped it around his lower abdomen, crossed it and led it back down in between his legs, effectively tying a crotch rope. I repeated this a few times and then cinched of the ends of the rope.

I took me a few good minutes, as I needed to push him up each time I wanted to get the rope to go under his buttocks. I just pinched him hard in the sides, which made Chris go up, allowing me to quickly pull the rope through.

With that done, I felt confident enough to release his hands, but before doing that, I tied each wrist separately to one of the legs of the chair.

Chris all the while was looking at me with a look of growing surprise as if to say, when is this going to stop?

I started to rip the tape of his body and arms. Once that was done, Chris as I suspected attempted to get up and resist. With his hands tied down to the chair legs, there was not much he could do. I then untied one of his arms and pulled hard at the rope I tied around his wrist, yanking it up and behind his back.

"mmmppH".

I looped the rope around his neck and brought it back behind his back, tying it around his wrist. I then untied his other wrist and brought that one up to his other wrist. I could now tie his hands securely behind his back.

I untied the rope from around his neck and with the only remaining long rope I found in his bag, I tied his arms and elbows tightly behind his back.

Job done.

Both Tom and Chris were shouting through their gags violently.

"Oooooh boys, we are so not done yet" I laughed.

I looked at my watch and said, "with any luck, I can still play the second half."

"You on the other hand ...."

More mmphing from the pair of them.

I then yanked Chris from his chair and pulled him down to the ground. he was much heavier than I expected and when someone is tied up as tight as I tied Chris, they are also not able to move as much as you would expect, I found out. With a hard thud, Chris fell like a dead weight on to the floor.

"MMMMMMMPPPH"

I guess that hurt.

"Sorry" I blurted out .

I went through his bag once more and found a few remaining shorter strings of rope.

I pulled Tom close to Chris and tried to lay them back to back.

"MMmpph " "MMppph"

They both started to squirm and resist, probably guessing what I had in mind.

"Ooooh no boys, it is going to happen"

With that, I looped one of the ropes around the rope tying Toms' arms to his body. I pulled it hard and put it through the rope tying Chris' arms against his body.

I gave it a hard pull and pulled their backs to each other. I looped it in between their ropes 2 or 3 times more, effectively tying their upper arms together.

Shit, I thought, I cannot turn them over on their other side to tie their arms on the other side together.

I kneeled down and started to worm the rope through. It was not easy though. With them squirming, I needed a few attempts, but in the end, managed to tie their arms together on both sides.

Next, I tied a rope over the rope tying Tom's knees together and looped it through Chris' upper leg rope and pulled it tight, cinching it of, after which I did the same with their ankle rope. They were now, clearly uncomfortably lying on their sides, Chris on his right, Tom on his left side, tightly tied together arms and legs.

The sight was marvelous. When Chris tried to kick his legs up, he pulled Tom's legs back and vice-versa. It was really funny to see them struggle, somewhat disoriented.

The sounds that came from underneath their gags was loud and constant.

I decided to add at least one additional soccer sock around their face.

With that, I looked at them and took a pair of soccer socks out of Tom's bag and blindfolded both of them.

"Now boys, be good."

"Back after the second half to release you".

I took my phone out of my goalie bag and took a lot of pictures and made a few videos of them struggling. this would be my get out of jail for free card or at least one I could trade against the pictures Chris and Tom had taken of me earlier.

It was a bit naive on my end, as I found out later but hey, at the time, I thought I had won. I had taken revenge and we were now even.

With that, I opened the door of the changing room and looked into the corridor.

No-one.

I walked out and closed the door.

I could still hear some muffled sounds coming from the room, but you would hardly notice it.

I walked over to our changing room smiling, feeling thrilled and excited that I just had left two of my teammates helplessly tied, gagged and blindfolded.

I looked outside and could see that we were nearing the end of the first half.

I decided to make my way to our changing room and wait for the team to come in and hope coach would accept my apologies for being late and let me play the second half.

On my way over there, this Seb boy who found me tied up in the closet, crossed me in the corridor. He must have come in ahead of his team. His pristine white soccer socks and shorts no longer looked pristine. They had grass and mud stains all over. His socks were pulled down to his ankles.

"Aaah, Ils t'on liberé?"
Good to they set you free

"eah oui"
Euh yes

"Il me semblait que ça vous a plu"
It looked like you enjoyed it

"euuh" was all I could muster.

"J'ai eu ma revanche" I replied finally
I had my revenge"

He smiled at me.

I quickly walked in our changing room and closed the door. Waiting for my team to come in.

[MaxRoper]

Excellent descriptions of some intricate roping. I have a feeling our hero will be paying for this soon enough.

[Sniffmyfeet]

[mention]MaxRoper[/mention] I agree, I think as well that this moment of freedom won't last very long.

[mention]overkneesoccersocks[/mention] Your description of Seb, with stained soccer socks and shorts, is really nice. Those nasty socks could provide for some nice treat for Chris and Tom (if they don't escape before the match is over!). I wonder if it would be too harsh, but if they did something like that to me, I'd make them lick my soccer cleats clean as well.

[overkneesoccersocks]

Apologies for the long delay - I wanted to continue sharing my story but did not find the time the past few weeks. I will continue shortly (if you are interested still) and tell you what happen next after I left Tom and Chris tightly tied together in the changing room....

[ziptiedboy]

Apologies for the long delay - I wanted to continue sharing my story but did not find the time the past few weeks. I will continue shortly (if you are interested still) and tell you what happen next after I left Tom and Chris tightly tied together in the changing room....

Look forward to it

[Canuck100]

Apologies for the long delay - I wanted to continue sharing my story but did not find the time the past few weeks. I will continue shortly (if you are interested still) and tell you what happen next after I left Tom and Chris tightly tied together in the changing room....

Look forward to it

Same here!

[Sniffmyfeet]

I'm looking forward to reading the next part!

[overkneesoccersocks]

Part 7 – twist and turns

I was sat in our team’s changing room, waiting for my other teammates to come in for the half-time debrief with our coach. Thoughts were racing through my mind. Tom and Chris were tied together tightly in the changing room but a few meters away. Probably struggling to get free. It was a weird coincidence I bumped into this Seb boy in the corridor.

I was not sure if I should or could leave Tom and Chris tied up like that for the entire length of the second half. Maybe something would go wrong. What if someone else found them tied up like that. I started to have second thoughts. The rush of being tied myself and tying them up had been all consuming.

Reality was now setting in.

SHIT.

I looked down at my feet and suddenly realised I was not wearing my soccer cleats. I was not wearing any shoes at all in fact.

When I arrived in earlier that morning, I was wearing my sneakers. These fell off in the struggle between me and Tom, when he tried to push me into the closet in the visitor’s team changing room. This is how Seb found me in the closet, taped and gagged.

When Chris got me out, he pushed me into the private changing room, me still only in my long soccer socks. My cleats were still in my goalie bag, which, in the excitement of tying up Chris and Tom, I forgot to take with me when I left them in the private changing room.

Together with my second goalie kit . I was wearing our normal team kit.

I decided to go back and get it. That way, I could also check up on Chris and Tom.

I opened our changing room door and walked out. I could hear the sound of soccer cleats on the pavement just in front of the building. Both teams were coming in for the half-time coach debrief.

I hurried down the corridor on my socks and pushed open the private changing room door. I walked in and turned around closing the door, my back facing the room. I gently locked the door and switched on the light. I turned around but before I could do so I was pushed hard against the door, face forward.

“What gives !!!” I shouted.

“Shhhht” a hand was firmly clamped over my mouth.

“Mmmmmppph”

Another “MMMPPHH” also came from within the room. I guessed, Tom and Chris or Tom or Chris…

Shit – did they get out? Or one of them? Who was this pushing me against the door.

“Vite!”
Quick!

“Je ne peux pas lui tenir comme ca”
I cannot hold him like this

Seb????

With that, he pulled me back from the door and threw me on the floor, using his right leg to trip me, whilst he swung me around.

I fell onto the floor and used both my hands to catch my fall.
Tom and Seb jumped me.

“Tiens-le”
Hold him – Tom said to Seb.

They know each other??

I was too stunned to speak.

Only now I noticed Chris still tied up tightly, in a chair hogtie in the chair I pulled him out of only minutes ago.
Shit shit shit.

Seb meanwhile had jumped on top of me and pushed my arms down on to the floor and used his knees to keep them there.

Immediately I felt rope being tied around my socked ankles. Tom tied them tightly, roping around and in between them, finally cinching it off. Then proceeding to tie my knees. He yanked my socks further up over my knees and proceeded to tie my legs above my knees as well. He then tied my feet together as well.
All the while, I could not say a thing.

Seb was pushing both of his hands down onto my face, effectively hand gagging me, his soccer shorts crotch only inches away from my nose.

A strange feeling came over me in that instant. I was not resisting at all. Not shouting into Seb’s hands, firmly covering my mouth. I was not wriggling, struggling. Nothing.

I just lay there.
Overpowered.

Chris meanwhile had clearly given up the fight as well. His cheeks bulging from the soccer sock held in his mouth by the tape, wrapped around his face.

When Tom finished tying up my legs, he stood up and I could finally see him rising behind Seb, who still had me pinned down to the floor. His knees pushing onto my arms, hands covering my mouth firmly.

After a few more moments, Tom came back and walked up to me.

He just looked at me.

Expressionless.

He walked up behind my head. His red soccer socked feet now inches away from my head.

Seb slowly removed his hands, which were replaced by Tom’s right foot. He pushed his red soccer sock firmly onto my mouth, arching his feet over my lower face and wiggling his toes and foot around my lips and nose.

He looked down at me. Our eyes crossed.

I tried to move my face but Tom immediately started tutting. He shook his head - no.

Even though I could have escaped his foot, I did not.

I took in the smell of his sock.

This seemed to last minutes.

Eventually, he took his feet of my face and bent down.

Seb was still pinning me down with his knees on my arms and now also holding my hands firmly onto the changing room floor.

The really strange thing was that no-one said anything.
It all just somehow…. happened in complete silence.
Even Chris had stopped mmmmphing into his gag.

Tom’s face was now only inches away from mine. Gaze locked in.

He produced a ball gag, I noticed from the corner of my eye. His movements were all very slow and controlled.

Ever so slowly, he moved the ball gag closer and closer to my mouth, keeping his gaze locked onto mine. This was super exciting. It triggered an immediate reaction. I had a huge bulge.

The ball gag was no hovering over my mouth.

Tom and I kept looking at each other. I remember the tension still very well.

You could have heard a needle drop.

The only sound you could hear was me breathing.

In and out. In and out.

Awaiting what would follow next.

Tom started to bring down the ball gag.

Slowly.

In response, I started to open my mouth.

Breathing in and out. In and out.

The ball gag now touched my half-opened lips.

I started breathing through my nose. The breathing got heavier and heavier, in anticipation of what would follow.

Tom ever so gently pushed the ball gag passed my lips. It seemed to take ages before it was all in. Like it all happened in slow motion.

He gently lifted my head and proceeded to buckle it. Firmly.

Still, no word was said.

He now sat down next to my face and started to remove one of his red soccer socks. He took the upper part of the sock and slid it slowly down his leg, down over his shin guard. He carefully pushed the long sock over his heel and then started pulling his sock, gripping the toe part of the sock in one hand and pushing the rest of the sock off with his other hand.

I had my faced turned left to look at him.

I felt his hand softly pushing my face back. He lay his soccer sock over my mouth. My lips recognised the familiar feeling of his red adidas soccer socks. He left the sock simply lying over my lower face and proceeded to take off his other soccer sock.

This time I did not turn my face. I simply stared up at Seb, who was still holding me tightly pinned against the floor.

A few moments later, I felt a second sock being casually laid over my face. Next Tom’s hands gently lifted my head up.

I instinctively knew to keep my head up next. He proceeded to tie the first sock behind my head.

Being very stretchy material, he pulled it very, very, very tight. With both his index fingers, he pushed softly against my forehead, signalling I could bring my head back down. He looked at my face and started to adjust the sock covering my mouth, stretching it out, adjusting it to cover the larger part of my lower face. His fingers gently stroking my cheeks whilst he was adjusted my sock gag.

Finally, he tilted my head up again, now tying in the second sock over the first sock, further pushing in the ball gag. He looked at the second sock as if he was an artist painting a painting and adjusting the sock until he was satisfied with the end-result, the end look, if you will.

It was all really awkward.

My hands were untied, yet I let Tom gag me and tie my legs without the slightest protest. I accepted it. It felt like I was in a trance.

[overkneesoccersocks]

Part 8 - Tied to a bench

I was still lying on the ground. Legs tightly tied and very tightly ball gagged, with Tom’s worn soccer socks holding the ball gag in place.

Seb, the boy who tried to release me earlier, helped Tom tie me up again. This made no sense at all. It was all very confusing. They seemed to know each other very well. All the while I was being tied and gagged, not a word was spoken.
After Tom gagged me, Seb took his knees of my arms and his hands released my wrists. Even though I could have gotten up, I staid there, lying down on the ground.

Seb stood up and looked at Tom. He went over to the bench and sat down. He pulled up his mud stained white soccer socks, over his knees. He only folded one of them back down below his knees. The other one he kept pulled up over his knee. He even pulled it up higher. He looked at me as to say – I know you like this - or I may have imagined this and read too much in his eyes.

Tom sat next to him and proceeded putting on his soccer cleats. Occasionally rubbing his wrists still. I guess the rope marks still hurt.

He motioned to Seb and they both stood up again and walked over to me. Seb stood at my feet and Tom at my head. They bent over and each grabbed one end of me. Seb took my legs whilst Tom slid his arms under my armpits and locked his hands in a praying position over my chest. Next they lifted me up and carried me over to the bench.
The put me down gently, with my back now lying on the bench.

Tom then proceeded to kneel and pulled my right arm under the bench. He proceeded to slide under the bench and now pulled my left arm under the bench as well. I could feel rope being wrapped around my wrist, which were criss-crossed over each other. Tom gently guided my wrists into position and I silently complied like a willing victim.

He wound a lot of rope around and in between them. They were tied firmly together.

I looked over to the other side of the room, my eyes looking for a glimpse of Chris, my buddy in soccer bondage.

I could see him still sitting hogtied in the chiar. Seb now sitting on the floor next to him, with his legs spread out. One leg with his white sock over his knee, the other soccer sock folded down just below the knee. Seb looked at me and smiled.

Tom finished tying my wrist together under the bench and then proceeded to tie my upper arms to the bench, roping my arms tightly against the wooden planks of the bench seat. The planks were affixed to the bench frame with small spaces in between them, which is what Tom used to loop the rope around. I was now also firmly affixed to the bench.

He then looped a rope around my chest and underneath the bench, again tying it firmly in between the wooden planks of the bench seat.

Seb kept staring at me with a strange smile on his face. Chris meanwhile was simply breathing heavily into his gag. The strange thing with a firm ball or sock gag is that after a while, it starts to feel like the new normal. I guess Chris had reached that stage by now. I had not.

Not yet.

I felt like Tom was going to keep at it ad infinitum. He was now tying each leg rope to the bench, basically and very methodically crocheting me to the bench wooden seat planks.

I could hardly move a muscle. It was tight yet not uncomfortable. I could just not move at all anymore. I could only move my head.

At least that was what I hoped.

In vain.

Seb now stood up and walked over to me. In his hands, he carried a role of duct tape.

He came up close and kneeled down. He looked at me in silence.

Then I heard the sound of duct tape being ripped. Like a hospital nurse, he applied the beginning of the long piece
of tape he held in his hands, firmly but kindly onto Tom’s soccer sock covering my mouth. He rubbed it over my sock gagged mouth as a nurse applying a bandage.

He then must have pushed it in between the wooden planks of the bench, bringing it up again at the other side of my head and then over my mouth again. Effectively affixing my head to the bench. He must have repeated this at least 6 times. I could not move my head anymore.

Then all of a sudden, all went white. A white cloth, I guessed Seb’s mud stained soccer sock, was tied in front of my eyes and in between the wooden planks of the bench. It was tied off below the bench seat, further affixing my head. A second sock was tied over the first, or at least I guessed it was, as all of sudden things went black.

This was the very first time I was tied like this. Affixed to an unmovable object in such a way that I could not move a single thing in my body.

The weirdest sensation ever.

I felt a hand going through my hair. Softly stroking my head.

I stiffened.

And then a hand on my crotch, touching my very stiff cock. Teasing.

I softly started grunting into my gag.

What happened next is no longer appropriate for posting under this section.

Those of you who want to find out what happened, please look for the next part under the “true stories for adults section”.

[Sniffmyfeet]

Wow, I love the tender and sweet way in which Tom and Seb do the tie-up. The plot thickens though! Do they know each other? And if so, why are they suddenly so gentle? I guess we'll find out in the next part!

[Jack87]

Great story. Looking forward to the next part

[Canuck100]

Great story. Looking forward to the next part

Same here!

[harveygasson]

First two parts have been amazing! Looking forward to reading Chapter 3 when I get a chance

[ducttape1]

certainly also a nice story if sebastien had not found the boy