BONDAGE INITIATION
"Are you sure you wanna go ahead with this, Zakky? Mummification is pretty fuckin' intense for a first time. If you wanna start out with something simpler, we need to know, 'cause there won't be any possibility of backing out once the wrapping process starts." came the sound of Ethan's voice, as he and his two similar-sized buddies - Steven and Jeremy - closed in around their very antsy would-be victim.
In an effort to silence the unspoken fears slowly creeping up into the back of his mind, our eighteen-year-old protagonist took a big lungful of air before allowing a determined smile to take shape over his lips.
"Yes. I'm certain." he finally spoke, gulping in nervous delight as he settled his gaze on his three friends and the jumbo rolls of heavy-duty duct tape that so menacingly adorned the living room coffee table.
Young Zakky had celebrated many birthdays and was no stranger to hanging out with friends, but this day would prove quite different. He was eighteen years of age now and a young man in his own right. He'd spent months fantasising about this day and dreaming of the rousing bondage initiation his friends had promised him.
His initiation request was quite simple; a full body mummification, a stinky sockgag and some forced sneaker sniffing. Though Jeremy didn't quite share everyone else's appetite for smelly footwear and Steven found mummification to be a little extreme for a first foray into bondage, both of them had fallen in line and agreed to assist Ethan in fulfilling their eighteen-year-old counterpart's kinky dreams and fantasies.
Our young twink was understandably quite jittery when his three well-meaning friends ordered him to strip down to his socks and boxers, but the angst and anticipation he felt quickly died down when thick layers of industrial pallet wrap slowly began circling his limbs and overtaking the rest of his body. He remained perfectly still and silent as thick sponges were wedged in between his knees and ankles, and he remained similarly lethargic even as the mighty industrial wrap began orbiting his upper chest and torso.
His heart raced and his pulse quickened as the menacing rolls of duct tape came to life; filling the room up with deafening roars and telltale growling sounds. Ethan and Steven took charge of the taping-up process while the ever so slightly more diminutive Jeremy held his pallet-wrapped friend in place to prevent him from losing balance and falling over.
Teasing jabs and intermittent chuckling noises peppered the screeching cacophony as Zakky's rapidly hardening member tented up the front of his loose-fitting boxer briefs. Bondage was not a major turn-on for him per se, but the prospect of being defenceless and at the mercy of his three musty-socked friends most certainly was. Unfortunately for him, he was in no position to do anything about it, nor was he able to move his hands to his front as a means of covering up his embarrassingly obvious state of arousal.
A pleasured groan escaped the young prisoner's mouth as the first revolutions of uber sticky duct tape were spun around his upper thighs; pressing up against the base of his erect tent and causing his rock-hard shaft to ride up against his lower abdomen. Zakky instinctively continued trying to bring his hands to bear but felt a strange satisfaction at the fact that they were both plastered flat against his outer thighs.
"Haha, yeah...looks like someone's happy to be taped up." Ethan commented, a devilish smile spreading across his handsome face as he wielded his jumbo roll of industrial-grade duct tape and spun additional orbits around the defeated twink's crotch, bums, wrists and stomach.
The bashful captive made no effort to resist or deny his older friend's embarrassing jabs, but even so, the occasional stray hand preventatively clamped itself over the speech-capable orifice of his lower face; stopping potential calls for help from being voiced out and fulfilling another one of his innermost fantasies; that of being consensually non-consensually bound up.
When finally the newly christened eighteen-year-old was safely cocooned from his ankles all the way up to his neck, all three of his friends worked in tandem to slowly lower him down to the floor before wrapping numerous orbits of sticky tape around his already hopelessly restrained ankles.
"You ain't goin' nowhere, buddy." Steven spoke, the surprisingly convincing tone of his voice contrasting quite vividly with the angry growling of construction-grade adhesive.
Panicked screams almost immediately rose up above the teasing jabs and discordant cacophony as curious fingers tentatively dug into the captured twink's utterly defenceless, cotton-padded soles. The helpless lad wanted it to stop but ended up crying out and yelping even more vigorously when another set of fingers aggressively yanked his socks off and began assaulting the bottom of his soft-skinned feet.
Young Zakky's hearty laughter was predictably mirrored by that of his merciless assailants...right up until Jeremy suddenly took it upon himself to intervene by clamping a clammy palm down over his face.
"Mmmhgg pphh pphh! Mmmhgg pphh pphh!" came the frantic sound of obstructed breathing mixed in with heavily garbled laughter.
Intermittent cries for mercy once again resonated across the laughter-filled living room before repeatedly being stifled down again, not only beneath Jeremy's surprisingly effective palm but also beneath Steven's.
Our defeated prisoner was then bathed in what can only be described as a lagoon of unadulterated joy as all three of his buddies sat on the couch overlooking his mummified form, turned the TV on and began using his defenceless body as a makeshift footrest. It wasn't long before all six of their well-worn shoes were kicked off and the stale scent of musty socked soles greeted his face and teased his senses.
The overstimulated birthday-boy predictably complained when Steven's unsavoury socked toes introduced themselves into the intentionally gaping cavity of his mouth, but that didn't stop everyone else from chuckling somewhat derisively.
Steven and Jeremy's socks were a little mustier than expected, but Ethan's intimidatingly crappy wads definitely took the cake as far as smelliness and looks were concerned. Zakky didn't particularly enjoy the annoyingly poignant smell his more boisterous companion's socks gave off, but even so, he secretly hoped those were the ones who'd later be elected to serve as gags for his still-unfettered and very much speech-capable mouth.
"Haha! Shut up, bitch. We all know you're loving this." Steven smirked, driving the biggest of his cotton-clad digits a little deeper into the groaning prisoner's facial orifice; making everyone else laugh, including his own victim.
Though Zakky moaned and groaned as though he wasn't truly enjoying this, never had he felt more turned on and at home than he was now; impossibly taped up and at the mercy of his three stinky-footed captors. Unfortunately for our young sock-loving twink, Ethan, Steven and Jeremy had something a little more memorable in mind when they promised to lavish their friend with smelly socks and footwear.
"So, Zak? You ready for the good stuff?" Ethan asked, scooting forward to get a better view of the captive-lad lying on the floor beneath his feet.
"The good stuff?" came the rosy-cheeked prisoner's innocent-sounding question.
"You didn't seriously think we'd agree to gag you with socks and forget about the fact that you specifically asked for them to be nice and smelly, right?" Steven snickered, the tone of his voice betraying a clear hint of malice and incredulity.
Zakky didn't respond with words. He squirmed and writhed in a feigned attempt at escaping his tight prison. His heart raced, his crotch tingled and the hard appendage rising up from between his mummified thighs throbbed as though possessed of unquenchable thirst and anger. But even though his body responded the way he'd always imagined it would, he couldn't quite fend off the one question that kept creeping up to the front of his mind.
"What the hell have I gotten myself into?"
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