BOUND & GAGGED IN A SLEEPING BAG (M+/M+) *UPDATE JAN 08*

Stories that have little truth to them should go here.

WHICH OF THE FOLLOWING SAGAS HAVE YOU FOUND YOURSELF RE-READING OR GOING BACK TO THE MOST? (2 VOTES)

BOUND & GAGGED IN A SLEEPING BAG
50
45%
TEACHING BRAD A LESSON
5
5%
EASY PREY I-IV
27
24%
THIRTY-SIX HOURS OF HELL
5
5%
HOUSE ARREST I & II
7
6%
HOW I BECAME A COLLEGE DORM SLAVE
16
14%
OTHER (SPECIFY)
1
1%
 
Total votes: 111

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bondagefreak
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CHAPTER 10 - KEEPING MY HEAD LOW


I silently watched as the muscular jock pulled out a bunch of big zip ties from his sports bag.
Not the ones for tying cables together. I mean thick, police-grade tie wraps.


I felt the thick plastic band circle around my already bound wrists and heard the familiar zipping noise echo across the room. Why was he zip tying my wrists up? They were already bound up and knotted down real tight behind my back!

The jock grabbed my feet before taking another one of those big zip ties in his hand.
"Sorry buddy. I don't have time for a fancy tie up." was the only explanation I got.

Another one of those zip ties was circled around my ankles and zipped up real tight.

"You don't need to tie me up, Master." I complained, turning my head sideways to allow Nick to see my pleading face.

"Quiet." Nick ordered. "You don't get to tell me what I need or don't need to do." he snapped, taking another zip tie and roughly securing it around my already restrained ankles with a sort of vengeance.
Oh my god! What the fuck?! This was serious overkill.

"But Sir, I can't go anywhere, I don't even know where we ugggghhmm..." I tried telling my captor, but suddenly found myself unable to pronounce the words. Nick just grabbed my hair, yanked my head up and clamped his big hand over my face, covering everything from my chin to the bridge of my nose.

"Uuugggmmmphff." I cried out, completely muffled up by the giant hand smothering my nostrils.

"Shut up! Shut your mouth." the big, hunky jock growled.

I let out a final whimper before going quiet and accepting his handgag.

Without any warning, Nick flipped me on my back, sat down on the bed with his back to the headboard and pulled me up against him so that I was half-sitting-half lying, with my head to his chest and my lower body between his thighs.

A thick, muscular arm wrapped itself around my bound arms and torso while his giant thighs clamped down around mine and squashed my lower body.

Nick used his free arm and clamped his giant hand back up over my face, pinning the back of my head to his big, broad chest.

I tried struggling a bit, but my hands were bound real tight behind. Not only that, Nick's thighs were easily twice as big as my own. No kidding. His thighs and calves were as developed as his biceps, pecs and shoulder were, and his legs could very easily crush me down and incapacitate me.


The jock used his big, muscular arms and legs to crush me against him and lock me in a tight embrace.
His nylon trackies were doing a VERY poor job at concealing the excitement building up between his tree-trunk thighs, however.


The hunk just held me there and kept his large, sweaty hand clamped tight over my face, muzzling me up real good.

Pretty soon I felt his boner grow to full mast and started squirming around, desperately trying to get air in through my nostrils.

"Uugghhmm...uuggghmm." I cried out, literally suffocating inside the hunk's big, strong hand.

"Haha." he laughed, clamping his giant thighs and wrapping his arms around me even tighter.
I whimpered pathetically, tears welling up in my eyes from lack of air.


The blond muscle hunk finally loosened his handgag a bit, allowing me to fill my lungs up by sniffing air through my nostrils, sniffing his hand in the process.

Nick said nothing for a whole minute. He just held me there and kept me gagged, allowing me to sniff air from within his large hand every now and then.

He was totally getting off on the fact that he could control my breathing and make me pass out if he wanted to.

The big, nylon-clad erection rubbing against my lower back was literally throbbing and my bound hands could definitely feel a sticky wetness down there.
He was oozing pre-cum and it was seeping through his thin trackies.

I didn't enjoy him toying with my breath like this and I knew the best thing I could do right now was to surrender, fully and unconditionally.

Keeping still and accepting his hand over my mouth and nose was the single most submissive thing I could do...and apparently, Nick thought so too.

The smothering eventually gave way too loose handgagging, allowing me to relax somewhat.



His next words though, hit me like a brick. My whole world felt like it had just fallen apart.

"I saw you...what you were doing with my sneaker during the ride." he whispered into my ear, while still keeping his hand clamped over my face.

No! He knew! I couldn't believe it...
How would I ever be able to explain that to him?!

"You were fuckin' liking it." he continued, whispering his sweet poison into my ear.


I couldn't stop my eyes from watering over. I had a giant lump of saliva in my throat and an annoying tightness in my stomach. I was fucked.

Now my best friend would think that I really WAS some kind of weird faggot!

The sound of my breathing became raspy and was soon replaced by audible sobs.

"Are you crying?" Nick suddenly asked, chuckling mildly at the realisation that I was having a breakdown.


I was crushed by the revelation that my friend had seen me willingly sniffing his shoe.
This was the worst of feelings; a mixture of humiliation, guilt and lots of fear. Fear that he would expose this to Brad, to my parents and to the rest of my friends.
If word of this got out, they would all see me as some kind of weirdo.

"Shhhh...buddy, it's okay." he whispered, trying soothing me.
He was apparently finding this funny and amusing.
"Maybe, if you’re really good...nobody else has to know about your weird fetish." he said, smirking cockily while still keeping me handgagged.

At the comment, I couldn't help but let out a plea through my captor's hand.
"Mmmpphh....uggghmm". I cried out, sobbing pitifully.
I was terrified at the prospect of this getting out to my girlfriend and parents.

"Shhh....for now it can stay between you and me." the jock offered, tightening his grip on my face while lowering his other hand over my semi-erect manhood.


I let out a gasp of surprise when his big, warm hand started rubbing my package. But I was completely powerless to do anything about it.
My hands were tightly bound up and crushed between my back and his groin. My legs were even more useless with his giant thighs clamped around them, keeping the lower half of my body pinned down.

"Shhh...nobody has to know about it. It can be our little secret." he purred, keeping his hand clamped over my face to muffle my whimpering.

I could still detect a hint of humour in his voice.
His reassurances were not as comforting as they were meant to be.

I knew that sooner or later, he would spill it out to Brad...unless I agreed to make it worth his while to keep it a secret of course. I knew Nick too well to believe that he wouldn't use this to his advantage.


"I need to go and start unloading the Jeep..." he said, finally changing the subject. "Are you gonna be a good boi?"

I motioned my head 'yes' as best I could and continued sobbing inside his large hand.

"Good." the jock said, letting my face go and bringing his left foot up over his knee.


I watched as the jock grabbed his old Reebok sneaker and pulled it off, exposing his huge, filthy-looking socked foot.


The instant his shoe came off, a strong musk started filling the room, 'causing me to turn my face away and crinkle my nose in revulsion.

"Haha. Yeah, smells pretty bed, eh?" the jock laughed. Grabbing his ankle with one hand and peeling his sock off with the other.

The sock he was wearing was filthy and I could smell it from almost a meter away.
At the time, I had no idea, but Brad wasn't the only one who brought dirty laundry along for me to sample.
Nick had also been preparing for this trip and had quite a collection of dirty, smelly stuff for me to taste and sniff.


"We can't have you mouthing off and making a fuss while we're outside now, can we?" he teased, pulling the dreaded thing off his big, sweaty foot and balling it up into a large fist-sized wad...without bothering to turn it inside out.

"Ugh." I gasped, deeply revolted by the sight and smell of my would-be gag.
Oh my god, it smelled ROTTEN.

"Pew-wie...does this smell bad or what! Haha." Nick laughed after taking a quick whiff of his own sock.

I turned my head around to avoid the foul-smelling wad, but the hunk just grabbed my lower face and forced me to look straight towards it.

"It stinks, doesn't it?" he asked, holding the big, balled up sock in front of my face.

"Uhh hmm." I answered, nodding my head and crinkling my nose in disgust. "Uggh..." I coughed, keeping my mouth sealed shut but getting a whiff of Nick's powerful foot odour in exchange.

"Haha." the jock laughed. "Here's the deal though. Unless you want Christie to find out about your sick little gay fetish, you better do what I tell you." he suddenly spoke, threatening to spill the beans out to my girlfriend.

The tone of his voice left no doubt about whether or not he was being serious.
He was. Dead serious.


I sobbed and whimpered in resignation before quickly nodding my head to indicate I understood.

"Good boi." the jock commended. "Now open your little mouth, princess." he ordered, tightening his grip on my jaw and squeezing my cheeks together. "It's time to chow down on your big buddy's stinky sock!" he laughed, grinning cockily.

I had no choice but to comply.
It was either accept his big, raunchy sock or run the risk of him telling everyone he knew about my dirty little secret.

The choice was obvious.
I opened my mouth and in the sock went.

"That's it. Nice and wide..." Nick purred, forcefully stuffing his filthy sock in.

"Uggh..." I gagged, closing my eyes in an effort to cope with the size and taste of the intrusion.

"Haha, yeah. Wore that one for quite a few days. I bet it tastes like shit!" the jock chuckled, using his big fingers to force the thick wad all the way in, past my lips and into my bulging cheeks.

A familiar roll of wide, black duct tape was quickly pulled out of the sports bag next to us and I soon found myself with half a dozen layers of sticky tape wrapped around my head and lower face.

Nick got up, put his sneaker back on his foot and roughly flipped me onto my stomach before grabbing a pair of thick tie wraps and hogtying me as tight as I had been during the ride here.

"Don't go anywhere." he said, slapping my butt and throwing me a wink before exiting the bedroom and closing the door behind him.



I spent the next twenty minutes or so, fighting my restraints and struggling against the gag, but it was useless.
I wasn't going anywhere and neither was the thick sock that was plugging my mouth up.


I shook my head and closed my eyes before screaming into my gag.

I wanted it out of my mouth, but my hands were hopelessly bound up and restrained behind me.

There was a bunch of gross stuff stuck onto the sock, and Nick hadn't even bothered giving it a quick shake before bunching it up and stuffing it into my mouth.


I was in a small bedroom, in a cottage, in the middle of nowhere! There were no neighbours anywhere nearby. Probably no phone reception either. Yet here I was, bound up extremely tight and gagged as though crying for help would attract unwanted attention.

There was no doubt in my mind that the sock was Nick's.
It smelled like crap and tasted even worst than Brad's raunchy sock!
Nick's foot odour was unmistakable. It was really strong, cheesy and had the ability to musk up a room within less than a minute.
Don't get me wrong, Brad's sock, the one I had been gagged with earlier, was raunchy and smelly as sin.
But Nick's feet were worst. They positively REEKED.

I knew it was a medical condition, probably one that could be treated quickly with anti-fungal creams and powders...but Nick obviously didn't care that his feet made everyone around him feel sick, whenever he kicked his shoes off. In fact, he kind of enjoyed it.
It was a sick game that he used to play as a teenager. Obviously he'd never truly matured past that point.



I spend quite a bit of time, grunting, crying out and coughing. I couldn't believe I had my friend's nauseating, ripe old sock in my mouth.

Eventually though, I closed my eyes and surrendered, allowing myself to slip into a state of rest.





Waking up with Nick's sock in my mouth was one of the weirdest things ever.
It took me a few seconds to orient myself and remember where I was.

I was still bound up, secured in a tight hogtie with Nick's big, nasty sock in my mouth.

"Ummpff." I cried out, shaking my head, simply unable to put up with the disgusting taste of my blond friend's foot cheese in my mouth.


I must have dozed off at some point.
Judging by the small window in the room, the sun was still up outside. I had no way of knowing the exact time without a clock, but it must have been early in the evening or late in the afternoon. My stomach was rumbling, asking me for food.

There was no way around those stupid tie-wraps Nick had zipped me up in. They were too thick to break out of and my efforts to break free had already marked my wrists and ankles. Not only that, my wrists were bound up real tight with rope, making my restraints even more secure.

I tried to rub my head on the mattress, hoping to remove the duct tape that was plastered to my face, but it was no use.

Movies and TV shows make this look sooo easy.
I'd always found it rather amusing how in movies, the duct tape gags during kidnap scenes are always so lame...how people always end up being silenced by tiny little strips of tape over their mouths.

Some years back, I had made the mistake of pointing that out to Nick. He had agreed with me and since then, had applied himself to gagging me a little TOO well.

At first it was fun, but as time went by, Nick became more and more daring about what to gag me with.
First it was neckties, then clean socks, then rags and finally dirty, sweaty socks.


I was around twelve years old when I got my first taste of a dirty sock.

Nick had me bound up in his bedroom and thought it would be real funny to search the hamper and stuff one of his dad's smelly socks in my mouth. I had protested, rather violently as I recall, but Nick shoved the sock into my mouth anyhow.

Several times now, he had threatened to shut me up by shoving his boxers in my mouth.
Of course, he'd never actually done it. It was all just in good fun, to get a reaction out of me.
Could you imagine that though...gagging on another dude's dirty undies?

Just the thought of it alone gave me the creeps.



Suddenly my mind started replaying the events of earlier today...my sudden urgent desire to sniff Nick's sneaker. The way I had planted my face in it and dozed off. The fact that I woke up with my face still in his sneaker and thought he hadn't seen me.

The worse part being that he DID see me.

Just thinking about it, just replaying these events in my mind made me feel so ashamed and I knew that it was too late now and that my friendship with Nick would never be the same.

How could I look him in the eye now and feel as though I was his equal?
How could we pretend nothing out of the ordinary had happened?


I tried to stop thinking about it, tried to think of something else. But all I could think about, was how fucked up I was and how Nick would see me as some kind of fag from now on.



The familiar swooshing sound of Nick's trackies suddenly hit my ears and before I knew it, the door opened and the hunk walked in, his t-shirt slung over his left shoulder and a beer in one hand.

I just laid still and squeezed my eyes shut, pretending to be asleep, not wanting to draw his attention.
Something inside of me wanted the attention, but I suppressed the feeling and kept quiet.

Nick threw his soaking wet t-shirt on the floor before gulping down the remainder of the beer in his hand.

As he roamed for something in one of his sports bag, I couldn't help but feel a hint of jealousy as I observed his big, tan, muscular body...something that had earned him a lot of attention from the girls back in school.

Not only did the jock possess great, beefy legs, but he also had a big, buff chest and a massive set of arms mounted on top of his hard, muscular abdomen.
Combine that with his tall stature, blond hair and general good looks and you've got yourself a VERY handsome man.

Something else Nick was renown for, was the size of his manhood.
Yes, that's right.

It used to be a popular subject of gossip among the older girls back in high-school.
I'd never actually seen his boner, not that I cared to, but I knew for a fact that those rumors I used to hear the girls whispering about, were fell founded.

Nick's big, beefy thighs stretched pretty much everything he wore. It didn't matter if he was wearing basketball shorts, jeans or nylon trackies. The tightness of the material stretched around his thighs always 'caused his package to stick out quite a bit.

Even now, the bulge in his noisy, blue trackies looked really big and prominent.



Going through some clothes, he took out a t-shirt and quickly put it on, then started looking in another bag and got out his tight-fitting, thick motorcycle jacket and put it on.

It didn't take me long to realize we were going somewhere.
"Wake up." Nick ordered, sitting down on the edge of the bed and giving me a slap on the bum.

I didn't have anything else to wear, besides what I was wearing now, so I was more than a little happy to see Nick had brought enough clothes for the both of us.

Of course, his stuff was WAY too big for me, but that didn't matter.
Out here in the wilderness, no one cared if my t-shirt was three sized too large.

I opened my eyes slowly and inhaled loudly, pretending to have just woken up from a long nap.

Nick transferred a few shirts, socks and underwear from his other bags and placed them into one bag before zipping it up and putting it on the bed, next where I was lying.

"Let's get moving, we need to set up camp." he said, grabbing hold of my feet and cutting off the set of tie-wraps with a pocket knife.


I was released from my hogtie and Nick quickly lifted me up in a sitting position before grabbing my wrists and cutting off the tie wrap that kept them locked together.
With the plastic band out of the way, the jock's fingers quickly undid the knots and loosened the rope keeping my hands bound.

Suddenly, I was slapped hard behind the head.

"Look at your fuckin' hands!" he yelled. I did and I had to admit to myself, the red creases around my wrists were deep.

"What the fuck would you tell a cop if he saw you like this?! Those marks are gonna stay red for a week!" Nick was upset, but I didn't understand why. Cops? In the middle of nowhere?

Maybe he WAS worried about bumping into a patrol, or maybe...he was just worried about me.
The thought crossed my mind very briefly, but was quickly dismissed.

Nick started unwrapping the tape around my face and head. And as soon as the final strip came off, I spat the disgusting sock out of my mouth.

My tongue was dry and I was thirsty, but most of all, my jaw was aching. It felt good to have nothing in my mouth for once.

Nick got off the bed and grabbed my head. He forced it down so I was staring at the floor. The dreaded leather collar was being secured around my neck and buckled real tight.

I wasn't thrilled at all but I didn't complain or object in any way.
Nick grabbed the leash, but instead of clipping it onto my collar, he put it in his sports bag and zipped it shut once again.

"Need to use the washroom?" he asked, using a finger to raise my chin up.

I nodded my head, looking into his eyes pleadingly. "Yes, Sir."

"C'mon." he said, taking hold of my upper arm and guiding me up with feigned impatience.

With the sports bag strapped across his chest, he tightened his grip on my upper arm and guided me out of the room, before closing the door behind us.


I was allowed five minutes to use the washroom and do my business. I was so nervous, I most likely didn't take half that time. I couldn't help but wonder what was in store for me this evening...



As I closed the washroom door behind me, Nick was once again, fumbling through his bag.
This time getting out a nice brand name hoodie.

"Here, put this on" he ordered, handing me the thick hoodie. "It's getting cold, I don’t want you getting sick".
I slid the heavy hoodie on and couldn't help but notice how nice and warm it felt.
It was much too big for me and smelled a LOT like Nick, but neither of those things bothered me much.

"C'mon, hurry up. It'll be dark in a few hours." he growled, pushing me towards the cottage entrance.
We stepped out and Nick turned around to lock the front door with a set of keys.

The temperature had definitely cooled down, the wind was chilly. It felt like mid-October somehow.

The SUV was already running, with Brad waiting for us behind the wheel.

I was once again guided towards the SUV. The back door was opened for me and I was told to get in and buckle myself.

Nick got in the front passenger seat and I managed to clear a spot on the back seat, large enough for me to sit on.

Some of the equipment had been loaded off, but Nick and Brad had loaded the SUV with other stuff.

"You're not gonna tie him up?" Brad asked his friend, throwing me a cocky glance across the rear-view mirror.


Nick stopped to consider Brad's question, then suddenly turned to look at me straight in the eyes.
He looked at me for a full three seconds, but it was long enough to make me understand that if I tried anything stupid, I would regret it.

"If he knows what's good for him, he'll stay put." he answered, turning back and sitting in his seat.

"Whatever you say boss!" Brad replied playfully.
"If I had my way with you, boi, you'd be strapped spread-eagle on top of my Jeep." he laughed, adjusting his rearview mirror to get a better look at me.


He saw me staring back at him through the mirror, saw my glare in response to his threat.
He winked at me and puckered his lips up as though he was sending me a kiss, before adjusting his mirror back to its previous position and driving the SUV up the trail leading away from the cottage.


I hated Brad, I had to restrain myself from punching him then and there...but I was in his Jeep and would be spending the next few days on his property.

In truth, I was scared of him. Scared of what he might do to me if I was tied up and Nick wasn't there to watch out for me.

Nick was the only thing that stopped Brad from cutting chunks out of me in school.

Between the threat of Brad and the earlier events involving my weird attraction to Nick's shoes, this was one of the WORST days in my life. Somehow though, I had a feeling that things wouldn't be getting any better.
The week had only just begun, and already I wanted out of this stupid little game.



As the Jeep continued making it's way up some small dirt trails, I looked at some of the new equipment that was piled around me.

A tent, a small barbecue, two folding chairs, a few bags, a cooler, rope, clothes, fishing rods, air mattresses and sleeping bags...LOTS of sleeping bags!

We were only three, yet they had brought six, no wait....SEVEN sleeping bags!
Nick's blue one was there, the one I had been strapped up in earlier this week.
It was BIG, but the other bags looked about just as big and thick. I could tell even though they were rolled up, this was heavy-duty stuff.

Temperature ratings of -20c, -30c, -45c...holy shit! Where were we heading? Siberia?!

There was a small black bag down on the ground. Nick and Brad were busy talking about the camping site and none of them were paying me any attention.

So I quietly unzipped the bag open to get a look at what was inside. My eyes opened wide in surprise when I saw what was inside. Hockey tape, duct tape, rope, straps, a gasmask and MORE rope!

I quickly zipped the bag shut, trying to forget all the negative thoughts that were filling my mind.

As I became more and more stressed out over where we were going and what was going to happen, the collar around my neck seemed to tighten to the point of causing me discomfort.

I had never worn anything like it before and it was becoming really uncomfortable. So when I reached behind my neck and found the strap buckle, I decided to loosen it a little.

Aww. That felt good.
It was still buckled around my neck, but at least I was able to breathe a bit better now.


Looking outside through the glass window, I couldn't help but hope that spending some time outdoors might change the mood a little.

After all, things could hardly get any worse.
Or could they?



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Last edited by bondagefreak 3 years ago, edited 6 times in total.
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Tsuhaya
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Post by Tsuhaya »

I love how Nick forces his dirty socks to focus on poor Steven and his noxious reaction, it reminds me of my adolescence with my cousins :lol: . This story is really the best, thank you for that sir.
Yes, it's me in the picture. What are you waiting for to tie me up and gag me?
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Post by Johnsnow »

I love the use of more pictures in this version... It's the small thing that add up to makes a big difference. I also feel like there is a lot more descriptiveness and not just getting through the story which I feel sometimes happens in the longer going fictional stories.
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Post by bondagefreak »

[mention]Tsuhaya[/mention] [mention]Johnsnow[/mention] Thanks for the comments!
Yes, I'll be adding lots more photos to this (finalised) version. Many details have been added, dialogue is more realistic and lots of things have been tweaked and modernised (ex: Blu-ray and PS4 instead of DVD and Xbox).

Glad you guys are enjoying so far.
A big thanks for the encouragement!
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Post by Johnsnow »

bondagefreak wrote: 6 years ago ...lots of things have been tweaked and modernised (ex: Blu-ray and PS4 instead of DVD and Xbox).
...
I don't know what you mean I love my Xbox and can't imagine "modernizing it" with something as crazy as a ps4 ;)
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CHAPTER 11 - THE CAMPSITE



"This is it!" came Brad's call as he brought the vehicle to a stop.
We had arrived at the campsite after only twenty minutes of driving.

Nick and Brad quickly got out of the Jeep, apparently both anxious to set up the tent and get a fire going.
I couldn't blame them.

As I got out of the SUV, I looked about the campsite and was pleasantly surprised.

The site was nothing special, but it did hold a certain charm.
A small, sandy clearing in the woods, large enough for a big tent and less than a minute's walk from the lake.
The site was secluded and quiet...the perfect camping spot for any outdoor enthusiast.

My body was aching from being tied up so often during the past twenty-four hours.
I raised my arms up high in the air and stretched my back to release some of the tension that had built up there.

Nick and Brad quickly began loading stuff out of the Jeep.


As I stood there and saw them work on setting up the tent, I felt slightly unnerved that I hadn't received any instructions yet. I wasn't sure whether I was supposed to just stay there and wait for Nick to yell out some orders, or whether I was supposed to help them unload the equipment. After being treated the way I had, being left without orders and free of restraints was weird...almost as though something important was missing.

Maybe I was losing myself in this sick little game of theirs, I thought. Or perhaps I was just comfortable being controlled. Either way, nothing made sense anymore. I didn't know what to think.


Normally I would've been helping Nick by setting camp up with him.
He hadn't told me to do anything, but something in my mind told me that I should do what I would normally do.
So, I ended up helping my two captors by unloading the remaining equipment out of the SUV.

When everything was out of the Jeep, I closed the doors and brought some of the stuff over to where Nick and Brad were setting up the tent.
Sleeping bags and air mattresses near the tent, folding chairs and lunch cooler a few meters away.

Both of my captors were still busy fixing up the tent and I hadn't received any attention so far.
I guess I was doing something right after all.


I set the two chairs up on a nice sandy clearing just a few meters away from the tent site, and as I did so, I couldn't help but notice that the spot would be perfect for our campfire!
It wasn't too close to the tent, but would still keep the bugs and annoying mosquitoes at bay. Or so I hoped.


Looking back, Nick and Brad were still setting up the tent, so I decided to roam around the camping site for a bit.

Humming a familiar song that kept playing in my head, I slowly made my way down to the lakeshore.
A breathtaking sight to say the least!

As I arrived down at the lake, I couldn't resist the urge to pick up a flat pebble and fling it across the surface of the water. I smiled as the pebble hit the waterline five times before sinking down into the quiet depths.

Between the chirping birds, buzzing insects and the gentle rays of the setting sun, I almost forgot about the poor company I'd be forced to keep over the coming days.



Walking down to the pristine beach site, I managed to collect a few rocks and luckily enough, was able to find a good amount of kindling to help get the fire going.


Back on the sandy patch, I laid out the rocks I had collected in a neat, circular pattern before dumping in all the kindling material, which mostly consisted of dry wood, twigs, straw and birch bark.

I stood there for a moment, contemplating my work and allowing myself to fully embrace and gentle breeze and the soothing noise of rustling leaves all around me.


My thoughts were suddenly interrupted by the familiar sound of Nick's call. "Steven! Get your ass over here!"

Quickly I turned around and approached, anticipating the worst.

The tent was now up and finished and I couldn't help but be surprised at how large it turned out to be.
It could literally fit a whole family inside!


The two hunky jocks seemed pretty pleased with themselves

Nick turned back to look at me, his face sporting a large smile.
I was a little shocked by the way he casually threw his arm around my shoulder.

"So? What d'ya think?" he asked, motioning towards the tent.

"Looks...good." I offered, shrugging my shoulders, not really knowing what else to say.

"You bet it does!" came his joyful reply.
The jock ruffled my hair up playfully before taking his arm off from around my shoulder and giving me a light slap on the ass.

"Go get us some beers." he ordered, indicating the cooler I had set down near the campfire site.

Immediately complying, I turned around and headed for the cooler.
I took out two cold beers and brought them to Nick, as ordered.
Nick eagerly grabbed his, before ordering me to give the other one to Brad.

"Here." I simply said, handing Brad the second bottle.

I made a point of staring away from him, but even though my gaze was partially averted, I could see the cocky smirk on his annoyingly smug face. Brad was really enjoying this, I knew...having me as his little campsite bitch.

"Now go make yourself useful and start pumping up the beds while we start supper." came Nick's second order.

I wasn't happy about this, but still, I said nothing and obeyed.

Pumping up three air mattresses was a long ordeal and it took me almost a full half-hour to do so.


By the time I was done, Nick and Brad were already sitting down on their folding chairs and eating some hot dogs.
It smelt really good, and I was quite literally starving.

"You hungry?" Nick asked.

"Yeah." I answered in a low voice, quickly nodding my head.

"What!?" Nick suddenly asked, sounding positively irritated.

"Yes, I'm hungry Master." I immediately corrected, halting my approach for fear of being lashed out at.

"Good." he answered, "Now get down here." he ordered, motioning for me to sit down on the ground in front of his chair.

This was really embarrassing, but I did as I was told.
I sat down in front of his chair, but I guess he wanted me to sit closer.
Grabbing my hair, the big, blond muscle hunk forced me to sit up close to his chair, right between his knees.

"Open up." he ordered, one hand holding my hair tightly and the other hand holding a hot dog in front of my face.

I hesitated.
This was really humiliating, especially with Brad looking on in amusement.
Nick was really handsome and all, but I wasn't particularly interested in eating food that he'd squashed in his big, sweaty hands.

"I said, open your fuckin' mouth!" the stud barked, roughly yanking my hair up.
He obviously didn't appreciate my lack of obedience. At least, not with Brad acting as the silent spectator.
My obedience, or lack thereof, reflected directly on his ability to control me.
And for Nick, control meant everything.


A minute ago, I could have sworn being hungry enough to eat a horse. But now, I had no appetite left.

"Eat it." Nick ordered, holding the hot dog in front of my mouth and pushing my head forward.

I reluctantly opened my mouth, took a tentative first bite, chewed and swallowed.
Then took a second bite, and once again chewed and swallowed.


In less than two minutes, Nick had finished force-feeding me the first hot dog.
The humiliation wasn't quite over though. He had mustard and ketchup on his hand and his fingers were literally covered in hot dog grease.
"Lick this shit off." he growled, extending his large hand in front of my mouth. "All of it!"

I did, licking his hand and sucking his big fingers till they were nice and clean.

"Shit dude, that's fucking hot." Brad mentioned, obviously enjoying the show.

"Here. You feed him." Nick told his buddy, handing him another hot dog.
An expression of horror came over me when I turned to see Brad taking his hand out from under his sweatpants and take the hot dog Nick had given him.

"Come here puppy, come to papa." the horny jock condescendingly teased.


No way I was going to crawl between that guy's legs and have him force food into my mouth. Especially not after he'd been jerking his dick off!

Then I did the unforgivable.
"Fuck you." I answered.


It took me less than a second to realize how much shit I had just put myself into.

"Oh yeah!?" Brad yelled, grabbing my hair and forcefully dragging me in, close to him.
I thrashed about on the ground, trying to break free, but it was no use. Brad pulled me up close, until my head was between his thighs.

I fought, or tried to...but he held my hair tight and jerked my head up painfully.
"You're gonna fuckin' eat what I put in your mouth, punk!" he yelled.

Instead of answering, I just kept my mouth closed tightly, which got him even more upset.
In truth, I was scared shitless.

"Open your fuckin' mouth before I beat your face in." the angry jock growled, before spitting in my face.

I had tears streaming down my cheeks. I was defeated and I knew I had blown away all my chances of having some fun during this trip. Worst of all, Nick the friend, was nowhere to be found. He had been replaced with a much harsher, much crueller version of himself. Nick the friend, had been replaced with Nick the bully.


Teary-eyed, I opened my mouth and bit into the hot dog that was being shoved towards my face.

Brad continued holding my head up close between his legs and continued shoving the hot dog into my mouth.
He made sure to squash it up good in his hand, getting sauce all over his palm and between his fingers.
I wanted to be sick.

When I had finished eating the hot dog, he forced me to lick his hand and suck his fingers, like I had Nick's.
But Brad didn't just want me to lick the sauce away, he wanted to humiliate me even further.
I was forced to lick both his hands, between his fingers, kiss his wrists and hear his constant taunting, but STILL, he wasn't satisfied...


Kicking both of his smelly Nike trainers down and peeling off the remaining white sock he has on his foot, the jock ordered me to get down on the ground and lick his feet.

Tears continued streaming out of my eyes and my sobbing became louder, more audible.
I was totally defeated, crushed. I had no more fight left in me, only a shell remained.

I got down on my hands and knees and bowed my head until my lips were brushing his feet.

Absently, I opened my mouth and my tongue started lapping his sweaty feet.

Brad crossed his arms behind his head and glanced at Nick who threw him an approving smirk.
The jock was positively BEAMING in that instant.

I concentrated on the feet in front of me and tried forgetting they were Brad's.
They were almost as big as Nick's, though not as wide, and certainly not as smelly!

Still, they stank!
They were warm, moist and sweaty.
The toes were large and rounded and the soles were smooth and soft.
He had a bunch of lint and other stuff stuck between his fat toes, but I just closed my eyes and tried to ignore it.

I started licking Brad's right foot, sucking each toe and letting my tongue slide between each digit, like Nick had taught me.


I tried ignoring Brad's moans and concentrated on getting this job done as quickly as possible.

I moved to the other foot and did the same, taking the time to suck each toe and spin circles around each with my tongue. I felt sick to my stomach every time my tongue picked up a bunch of the jock's cheesy sock lint, but I managed to keep going without choking or gagging too much.

Brad's feet were big and smelly. But they weren't NEARLY as foul-smelling or as rotten as Nick's feet were.

"Don't stop." the jock warmed, reaching down from his seat and yanking my head sideways before spitting on my right cheek.

More tears ran down my face, but I didn't allow my bullies the satisfaction of watching me break down.
Instead, I crawled down fully to the floor and started lapping the soles of his big, stinky feet.
First, I covered his soles with small, quick licks with my tongue. But afterwards, I started going about it slowly, starting at the base of his foot and making my way up to his toes, sucking on his large toe every time my mouth arrived at the top.

Every now and then I'd crinkle my nose in disgust as a whiff of the jock's strong foot odour entered my nostrils, but other than that, this was a lot easier than taking care of Nick's giant feet.

It continued this way for about twenty minutes before Brad finally told me to stop.

"I think you like being my foot bitch, don't you?" he taunted me, in his semi-cocky, semi-serious manner.

I just kept my head low, using the thick hoodie sleeves to wipe the tears that had streamed down my cheeks.

"I can't hear you, punk!" the jock barked, leaning closer and yanking my hair up, forcing me to face him square on.
I knew what he wanted from me, and I gave it to him.

"Yes, Master Brad." I whispered, through my sobs.

"Yes WHAT?" came his angry response.

"Yes...I like being your foot bitch, Master Brad." I corrected, unable to stop another tear from leaking down my eyes. My tear ducts were leaking, my nose was leaking, my face was red and my eyes were swollen.
I felt as bad as I looked.


"Haha. I know you do." he laughed, grabbing my chin and forcing me to look up at the smug, cocky expression on his handsome face.



I was told to get up and put the mattresses and sleeping bags in the tent, along with a few other bags.
Nick and Brad cleaned up the small barbecue and started the campfire.


I opened the tent and brought the three air-inflated mattresses, along with the seven, big sleeping bags inside.

When I was done, I walked back to the opening that served as the main entrance to the tent and watched Nick and Brad getting along, working on the growing campfire.

'Where did my best friend go?' I wondered, as I observed Nick from a distance.
I felt a sharp pain in my stomach and was suddenly overcome by the urge to curl up in a corner of the tent and never wake up.

I hadn't cried like this since childhood and was not even a particularly emotional guy.
But I had never felt as helpless and as broken as I did now.
What had I done to deserve this? What if I just ran in the woods and disappeared. Would Nick even care? Would he come looking for me?

I stayed in the tent for a while, holding my head in my hands, sitting on the floor, practically crying myself to sleep.

I must have stayed like that for a good fifteen, maybe twenty minutes, cause my absence had apparently not gone unnoticed.



Someone entered the tent.
"Hey, what are..." Nick's voice started asking.
I was still curled up, my hands covering my face, not willing to even look up at him.
I heard the beefy hunk come closer and crouch down beside me.

Grabbing my hands and pulling them away from my face, he cupped one of his hands around my chin and forced me to look him in the eye.

It was getting dark outside, and the inside of the tent was very dimly lit. But I could still see his eyes through the tears that glossed my own.

I closed my eyes quickly to avoid his gaze, but he just held my chin and stared at me before offering a discouraged sigh.

"C'mon." he said, getting up and dragging me off the ground, by pulling my upper left arm.
He wasn't angry...just annoyed to see me break down like this, I guess.

I was lifted up to a standing position and guided outside the tent before being marched back towards the campfire.

Nick placed both his hands on my shoulders and guided me down to a sitting position on the ground in front of his chair, before sitting himself down behind me.

The fire was warm and beautiful.
My tears dried quickly with the constant warmth of the flames caressing my face.

Nick and Brad spent the next few hours joking, laughing, drinking beer and tending to the fire.

Nick even offered me a beer, which I accepted and thanked him for, before continuing my silent gaze into the campfire and the surrounding darkness.


I wasn't really listening to what they were saying or talking about.
My eyelids were getting heavy and I felt myself starting to doze off.
The air was cool, but the fire was warm and so was the heavy, oversized hoodie I was wearing.
Oh, how I longed for a good night's sleep...


My head was soon leaning against one of Nick's thighs.
My eyes half shut, I was not in the least bothered by the hand Nick had placed on my head while chatting with his friend. In fact, I quite liked it. I felt as though I was being...protected, somehow.

The warmth of the campfire, combined with my emotional and physical fatigue, quickly eased me into a light slumber.
Last edited by bondagefreak 3 years ago, edited 4 times in total.
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Blakenome1999
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Post by Blakenome1999 »

It’s so weird seeing the old dynamics but the new writing style. It’s like a time capsule where you remember how each of the characters was almost 100 chapters ago. Still nice to see that this topic has been created to keep the story still alive in our minds
I’m young and impressionable, I need someone to guide me through this world... preferably on a leash... and then tie me up afterwords... or before... and I guess a gag could be used as well... :D
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Post by MaxRoper »

This is absolutely totally amazing. The amount of work you've put in is staggering. Your plotting and characters are very well done.

Thank you!
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Post by bondagefreak »

[mention]MaxRoper[/mention] Why thank you, mr. Roper ;)

I'm glad you like this so far!
I don't remember you commenting on this story on the old board.
Is this your first read-through, or were you following this story on the old TUGs.net?
FOR A LIST OF ALL MY WRITTEN WORKS, CLICK HERE: BONDAGEFREAK'S STORIES

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Post by bondagefreak »

CHAPTER 12 - EARLY MISTAKES


In my slumberous state, I didn't notice Nick checking out my collar and wasn't aware of his sudden and profound displeasure at the fact that I'd loosened it.


My eyes shot open and my mind raced out of its slumber as I got a hard slap on the back of the head.
Heavily disoriented, I came to my senses just in time to receive an even harder blow.
There was no real pain, but the impact was enough to throw me to the ground.

Not knowing what had sparked Nick's sudden outrage, I looked up at him and gave him a look of disbelief.



The blue-eyed jock was no longer sitting down. He was standing up over me, his previously relaxed expression replaced with a stern, angry look.

"What's wrong?" I cried out, truly not knowing the source of his anger.

"You know damn well what's wrong!" he answered angrily.
In truth, I did not.

The innocent and confused expression on my face, displayed my continued ignorance at it's very best.

"Who told you you could play with the collar?!" he barked.

I was shocked. I had completely forgotten about the collar.
When we were in the SUV earlier, I had decided to loosen my collar two notches, just for a bit.
I knew Nick wanted it tight, but when he last put it on me, it became unbearable!
Upon our arrival at the campsite, I had planned on tightening it back up to the way it was, but it must've slipped my mind somehow.

Shit! How could I be so stupid? Of course, this would upset him!

Nick was expecting an answer, but I didn't know what to say.
"I'm sorry Master!" I cried out. "It was just so tight. I didn't think you would mind." I offered pleadingly.

It was a lie, but feigning ignorance was the best thing I could do. Or so I thought.

"I'm sorry! I won't touch it again, I swear." I continued. But the stern expression on Nick's face didn't soften in the least!


He wasn't buying it, nor was he accepting my many attempts to apologise.

Words had never helped much in the past, at least not when Nick was concerned.
I needed to do something much more submissive than flap my lips and beg for forgiveness.

The blond hunk was fuming right now.
"I give you some loose, let you spend the evening without being tied up, and this is how you repay me?" he asked, almost as though being treated like anymore more than a sub-human was a sort of privilege he was granting me.

"Told you he needed a firmer hand!" Brad pitched in humorously.

"Dude! Shut up." Nick snapped, not in the least amused by his buddy's banter.

Brad threw his hands up in defeat and continued to observe the scene while he gulped down the remainder of his beer.


"I'm...I'm sorry." I pleaded, at a loss for words.

Why the hell something as silly as a collar would piss him off so much, I had no idea.
But one thing was certain though. Nick was taking this game much more seriously than I expected, and it probably had something to do with Brad being here with us.


My apologies ended up having no effect, so I did the only thing I knew would help...show Nick he was the boss.

I crawled up to the blond hunk's feet and started licking the tips of his sneakers, mumbling how sorry I was and that I wouldn't repeat my earlier mistake.
Obviously, I was doing something right. Nick was still towering over my grovelling form as I continued to lap up his sneakers, but he wasn't saying anything or threatening to smack me down.
He must have liked what I was doing.

"Alright, enough." he snapped impatiently.

I stopped my frantic licking but stayed down on the floor, my head just above his feet.

"Get up." he ordered, his tone harsh and uncompromising.
This wasn't the time to act slowly. So I obeyed immediately and rose up to my feet.
I kept my head bowed in submission, my face sporting the most defeated look I could muster.

"Turn around." he told me. I did as I was told and turned around quickly.
I felt the jock play around with my collar, then felt it tighten and then tightened some more, until it was buckled tightly around my neck.

I let out a small yelp as it was being tightened, but was harshly told to shut up and received a sharp smack on the head for my effort.

"I'm gonna go set him up for bed." Nick told Brad as he started walking me to the tent, his hand firmly holding the back of my neck.

"Cool. I'll be joining you as soon as I put the fire out." Brad replied.


Once the tent was zipped back up behind us, I breathed a sigh of relief.
With Brad outside, tending to the fire, I was now alone with my friend.
"Nick?" I whispered, trying to get my friend's attention.

"Quiet." he simply ordered, 'causing me to lose all hope of ending this game prematurely.
He wasn't my friend right now, he was my captor, and there was no hint of sympathy in his tone.

My surprise grew considerably when Nick pulled out an extra-wide roll of gorilla tape from one of his bags.

"Alright, take your clothes off and get in your undies." he ordered, suddenly moving one of the inflatable mattresses to the side of the tent and unfolding the narrow camping cot he'd brought instead.
I could only assume I was going to be the one sleeping on it, no doubt secured the same way I'd been yesterday evening, while down in my Master's basement.

I undressed until I was only clad in my tight boxer-briefs. My old clothes were stuffed in a bag and placed in a corner of the tent, along with my other stuff.

"Take your socks off." Nick ordered, 'causing me to shiver as my bare feet came into contact with the cold tent floor.

I was barely done getting undressed that Nick moved in front of me and kicked my legs apart.
"Spread your legs." he ordered sternly, before suddenly tearing the massive roll of gorilla tape open.
The sound of the gorilla tape being unleashed wasn't quite as loud as duct tape, but the pitch was lower and quite a bit deeper.


To my dismay, Brad suddenly entered the tent.
The campfire had apparently been successfully dimmed out. Only faint light emanating from the glowing ashes could be seen from inside the tent.

"Stick your arms down and put your hands on your thighs." Nick ordered, motioning for me to place my arms down flat at my sides. Nudging my feet even further apart, the jock immediately got to work on me.

Thick, black gorilla tape was wrapped around my left wrist and circled around my left thigh.
The strong tape was wrapped around half a dozen times, effectively pinning my entire arm down and rendering my hand useless.

The same process was repeated on my right arm, and I knew as soon as my wrists were taped down, that I was seriously fucked. This was no ordinary tape. This was some really heavy-duty stuff.

As I looked down at the tape restraining my hands, Nick slapped a piece of gorilla tape, right over my chest and pulled the large roll of adhesive around my torso, pinning my uppers arms to my sides and further restricting my movements.
The tape was wrapped around my arms and chest eight times before Nick decided it was enough.
My upper body was left completely defenceless.

"Good thing you're not hairy." Nick commented, patting the tape down around my hairless chest and back, making sure the adhesive was plastered nice and smooth.

"Dude, get him on the floor and hold him still, will you?" Nick asked his friend, causing me to gulp in apprehension as the more sadistic jock moved behind me.

I felt his big hands on my skin, and soon Brad's thick arms wrapped themselves around my torso and pulled me down. He lowered me to the floor until I was sitting right in front of him, the back of my head on his chest and my waist between his muscular thighs.


Nick grabbed both of my ankles and held them together with one hand.
"Make sure he stays quiet until we fix up his gag." he told Brad, before tearing the roll of tape open once again and slowly wrapping my ankles up together.

I didn't even get the chance to protest or get a single word out.
The instant Nick's words left his mouth, Brad's big, sweaty hand clamped itself tightly over my face, forcing me to struggle for each breath.

"Mmpphhff!" I yelled in surprise.

He had one arm around my chest, keeping my body pinned tightly to his, but his handgag was too tight.

"Shut the fuck up." he spat, doing it on purpose to keep his hand clamped tight over my mouth and nostrils, 'causing me to cry out for air.

Nick wasn't paying me any attention.
He was so engrossed in the taping of my feet to realise that his friend was smothering me.

I fought the gorilla tape restraining my hands and arms down, but it wouldn't budge.
The tape was WAY too thick and WAY too strong.
I tried crying out, tried getting Nick's attention, but the big, blond jock just kept wrapping more and more tape around my ankles, slowly pulling tighter and slowly bringing the roll around for additional passes.


"I think he likes that." Brad laughed, noticing the rigid boner I had in my thin, blue boxer-briefs.

I felt my face fill up with a warm, tingling sensation until I realized I was blushing.
Oh god. My cock was literally throbbing and hard as a rock inside my tight undies, and I had no way of hiding it!

Nick stopped what he was doing to look at my crotch for an instant.
A cocky smirk spread over his lips before he resumed his work.
"Yeah, I think he does." he chuckled, wrapping more tape around my already excessively restrained ankles.

By the time Brad loosened his handgag just enough to allow me a quick whiff of air, my lungs were burning.

"Mmmmgghh?" I cried out, staring down wide-eyed at Nick, who was bringing the massive roll of tape around my ankles again, and again, and again.

"You're not goin' anywhere, boi." he spoke, not even bothering to look at me as he continued wrapping more and more tape around my restrained ankles.

That's when I noticed the MASSIVE boner inside his shiny, blue nylon pants.
He was really getting off on the sound of the tape or something. He must've wrapped the tape around my ankles thirty times by now! Something was OBVIOUSLY giving him a raging hard-on and I knew that it had to do with me being handgagged and getting taped up against my will.

"Mmmph!" I cried, desperately calling for help even though I knew we were in the middle of nowhere.


"Yeah, tape him up real good." Brad told Nick, chuckling cockily.
The buff jock was unrelenting. His large hand continued something me up and keeping me well gagged.

I didn't know what they were going to do to me, or how long I'd stay bound up like this.
At this point, I wanted to plead with Nick and tell him that taping me up like this wasn't necessary.
I wanted to tell him I'd be quiet and that I'd cooperate, but Brad was stopping me from even opening my mouth.

Nick finally finished securing my ankles together and moved up to my upper legs before wrapping tape above my knees and bringing the roll of tape up around my thighs.

Meanwhile, Brad kept me gagged and occasionally allowed me to take a whiff of air within his hand, only for the sake of keeping me conscious and aware of what was happening.

I hated him!
The stupid jock was stopping me from being able to get a word out to Nick and was purposefully impairing my breathing and forcing me to sniff his hand. I wanted to yell at him and tell him to get his fuckin' hand off my face.

Nick wrapped about half a dozen layers of tape around my thighs before putting the roll down and observing his work.

"How come you're all hard and swollen here?" the blond jock suddenly asked, squeezing my painfully erect underwear-clad shaft with his index and thumb.

"Uhhmm." I whimpered.
My eyes shot wide open and a tingling sensation washed over my entire body as his strong, warm fingers groped my throbbing hard-on.

"You like that, being all fuckin' taped up like this?" he asked, suddenly using his whole hand to squeeze my small shaft.

My erection was by no means small. In fact, I was as well endowed as most guys my size.
However, inside Nick's giant hand, my six-inch shaft didn't look quite as impressive as it usually did.


Thick, long fingers wrapped around my throbbing erection and started quickly pumping up and down, causing me to tense up and cry out in ecstasy.

I tried moving, but the wide gorilla tape kept me perfectly immobile.
My hands, feet, arms and legs were pathetically useless and I was left completely defenceless and unable to stop the two muscular bullies from jerking me off and smothering me up.



"Alright." Nick said, letting my manhood go. "Time to get your gag on for the night." he told me, reaching out for his large duffle bag and taking out a piece of equipment I couldn't quite make out.

Brad's hand quickly slipped from over my mouth, to under my chin, while his other hand applied pressure to the top of my head.

I didn't really understand what was happening at first. Not until I got a closer look at the gag Nick was bringing up to my face.

The two hunky bullies laughed when they saw the terrified, frightened expression in my eyes.

It was a muzzle.
A big, THICK, black leather muzzle.



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Last edited by bondagefreak 3 years ago, edited 5 times in total.
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Post by bondagefreak »

CHAPTER 13 - UNDER THE STARS


"MMnnooo! This isn't fair. Let me go!" I cried out as soon as Brad removed his hand from my mouth.

I tried shaking my head to avoid the approaching muzzle, but the jock held my head in a vice-like grip.
"You guys can't do this! Stommpph!" I yelled.

The thick leather muzzle covered my entire mouth, going from beneath my nostrils, to under my jaw. It had straps going all the way around and over my head, which Nick was busy fixing up and buckling secure.

I tried screaming again, but the chin strap was pulled and secured so tight that my jaw wouldn't even open a bit. To my horror, even when Brad released my face from his grasp, I couldn't mutter a sound or open my mouth at all. To make matters worse, the muzzle was quite thick and with the way it moulded my lower face, it effectively muffled my cries and screams out pretty well.

"Mmmmhh...mmhhh!" I yelled, fuming at the fact that my lips wouldn't open.
I couldn't articulate anything, and the ridiculously strong gorilla taped keeping my limbs trapped, wasn't budging at all.


"There we go. Nice and quiet." Nick mumbled, making sure the buckles were strapped tight under my chin and behind my head.

"Yeah. Can't talk now, can you, bitch?" Brad asked, toying with my breathing by pinching my nostrils shut.

"Mmmhh...ugggmmhh." I screamed in my gag, furious that Nick was allowing his sadistic friend to humiliate me further.


"Hmmm, you're fuckin' cute all taped up and gagged like that, boi!" Nick laughed, ruffling my hair up and causing me to growl in added frustration. I was like an angry puppy with no bite.

Brad let my nose go and yanked my head backwards so he could get a better look at my face.

"Yeah, we got ourselves a cute little faggot alright!" he chuckled after looking down at me for a bit.


I couldn't believe they'd just gagged me like that, completely against my will.
I was violently protesting, but the two big bullies just clamped the muzzle over my face and shut me up mid-sentence.

"Alright, let's get him zipped up." Nick said, walking up to the cot before opening what appeared to be a super thick, green mummy bag.



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As soon as the bag was laid out on the cot, I recognised it as being Jack's old winter bag.

Jack was Nick's dad. A kind-hearted, yet very strict and quite handsome man now in his mid-40s.
He was almost like an uncle to me, especially since he was only twenty years older than Nick and even younger than my own dad.

My dad was already in his mid-thirties when I was born, so there had always been a rather large generational gap between the two of us.

Nick's father, on the other hand, was born only a mere generation ahead of his son, so I definitely had more in common with him than I did with my own dad.


Jack used to bring Nick and I camping a lot when we were kids and even during my early teen years.
We used to camp out as late as early November, at which point the nights would almost always dip below freezing.

Those trips got rarer as I aged into my mid-teen years though.

When Nick moved out, Jack must've either decided to stop camping altogether or gotten himself a new bag. That was the only explanation I could think of to explain why Nick had his father's bag in his possession.


Unfortunately for me though, the old army green mummy bag didn't just mark my impressionable pre-teen mind because of its great loft and thickness. Its smell is what I remembered most. And a rather vivid memory I still had of it even today.


I'd never been inside it, but I used to dread the way it smelled in the tent during our camping trips.
Jack's bag really stank!

It was stuffed to the brim with cheap, stinky duck down...the kind that smelled really strong.
Condensation and humidity build-up in the tent would make the stench even more unbearable.
Jack would sleep in that thing even during the summer camping trips.

Camping with Nick and Jack was always fun, but I still remember those rather dreadful summer nights, when it was time to go to bed and retreat inside the tent. I used to dread Jack ordering us to bed after his bag had been sitting there and simmering inside the tent all day long.


Strangely enough though, neither Nick nor his dad had ever complained about it.
Even on the rare occasions my dad came camping with the three of us, the stench of Jack's bag never once surfaced in our banter.
I literally had to keep my nose in my bag to avoid breathing in the stinky duck down odour when we were in the tent. But no one else seemed to be bothered by it.

Even now, with the bag just freshly unstuffed from its spacious storage sack, the tent was filling up with the same old, musky odour I'd learned to hate as a kid.


This time though, I'd be zipped up inside it with my fuckin' mouth muzzled up!


"Mmmmnnnhhh." I cried out, heavily muffled by the air-tight gag.
I didn't wanna go inside the bag.


The sound of a heavy-duty zipper echoed across the tent as Jack's old mummy bag was opened up, 'causing a few feathers and more stink to spill out into our camping shelter.

Like most military bags, this one had a short, half-length zipper at the top, going from the hood down to the lower abdomen.


"Let's get him in there." Nick said, walking up to my excessively restrained, well-gagged form.


The two hunky jocks had no problem lifting me up and I was quickly deposited inside the big old, heavily stained and very smelly winter bag.

I wiggled, struggled and cried out, but I was no match for the two muscular Alphas.



The bag was incredibly thick, almost as much as Nick's blue bag, but even heavier.
The filling felt really dense and heavy and the shiny nylon baffles were jam-packed with cheap down and duck feathers.


The thing dated from all the way back to the 80s or something.

The thick, green nylon lining and the many stains that adorned it was a testament to the decades of use this bag had seen at the hands of Nick's dad.



I was roughly stuffed inside the puffy green worm and pushed in until my feet were trapped at the very bottom of the narrow, overstuffed cocoon.

I was quite a bit slimmer and less muscular than Nick's dad, but even so, the fat green monster fit me real snug and didn't give me much space to wiggle around at all.


My sanity was confirmed about a second later when Brad sniffed the air and crinkled his nose.

"Man...that thing stinks." he noticed, obviously not enjoying the strong, musky stench that was filling the tent up.


Nick, on the other hand, didn't seem to notice anything.

"It's my dad's old bag." was all he said as he grabbed the zipper and pulled it up over my abdomen, chest and neck.
"Sleep tight." he added, before patting me on the cheek and giving me a cocky smirk.


I tried pleading in my muzzle, but my cries were ignored and the big, blond jock just pulled the zipper up over my chin, mouth and nose before grabbing the drawstrings and closing the massively overfilled hood up over my head and face.

"Mnnhhhhmmm." I screamed, protesting the fact that I'd have to spend the night with my nose trapped inside this heavily used and incredibly strong-smelling down bag.

Nick closed the hood up until only a small opening was left over my eyes, and I heard his fingers brush against the shiny nylon shell as he knotted the sturdy drawstrings together.


The inside of the fat mummy bag was lined with the same waterproof nylon as the exterior, turning this cocoon into a veritable heat furnace only suitable for the most extreme winter conditions.


To my even greater dismay, continued complaints from Brad caused both jocks to zip me up inside a second thick bag, and eventually caused my entire cot to be moved outside so that the tent wouldn't stink of musky bird feathers.



Pretty soon, I was left alone, outside, zipped up inside two seriously THICK mummy bags and snuggly strapped down to my cot.

Besides moving my fingers, wiggling my feet and toes and moving my head around inside the thick, overstuffed hoods, all I could do was produce low gagging noises in my muzzle and crinkle my nose in response to the potent stench inside Jack's old camping bag.



I had no idea how far I was from the tent.
I knew I was alone outside, but couldn't hear anything besides my own breathing and the loud swooshing sound of nylon rubbing against my skin each time I moved.

Part of me feared being left out here to be found by a roaming bear during the night, but the threat of being mauled to death took a backstage to the threat of being left in here until morning and forced to endure this unbearable stench!



I had tiny feathers entering my nostrils when I breathed in, and no amount of struggling seemed to dislodge them from within my nose. To make matters even worse, the thick, foul-smelling loft kept hugging my face tight and smothering me up, causing me to quite literally struggle for air.


After what must've been two hours of useless crying, whimpering, sniffing and moaning, I started dozing off into a light sleep.
My respite was short-lived, however.


The sound of cracking twigs and heavy footsteps coming from close by woke me up and threw all my senses into a sudden state of alert. My fatigued eyes darted wide open and I remained there, perfectly still inside my two thick down cocoons.

My heart froze as I looked up into the tiny hood opening and noticed a big black form looming quietly above me.




STOP!
YOU'VE READ THIRTEEN CHAPTERS SO FAR.
NOW IT'S TIME TO STOP LURKING AND TIME TO COMMENT.

ARE YOU ENJOYING THIS TALE SO FAR?
ARE YOU LOOKING FORWARD WHAT'S NEXT?
HOW DO YOU FEEL ABOUT NICK? WHAT ABOUT BRAD?
DO YOU ENVY STEVEN OR DO YOU FEEL BAD FOR HIM?

DROP ME A NOTE IN THE COMMENTS SECTION!

REMEMBER THAT IF YOU'RE NOT A MEMBER, SIGNING UP TAKES JUST A FEW SECONDS!
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Post by Sniffmyfeet »

It's great to read this updated version of a story that already was a terrific read on the old site. It's a masterpiece. And it's good to read it anew and to enjoy it afresh.
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Post by LK3869 »

Oh shit ! I'm only in chapter two and just saw a few comments and your answers... That and the words you use, all those little thoughts and remarks... I know I'm gonna love it :!:
Big thumbs up for the mention of male sweat smell ( I fall for that and manspreading :? ) and Nick's tricky way of introducing some of his bodily fluids in/on you... Better be in the hands of imaginative guys for such nights :)
And, huuu, Steven looks good! Mind if I borrow his face for some future drawings ? Will do it anyway but wanted you to know it was a nice pick, such sweet faces deserve to be shaken a little bit :mrgreen:
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Post by bondagefreak »

Sniffmyfeet wrote: 6 years ago It's great to read this updated version of a story that already was a terrific read on the old site. It's a masterpiece. And it's good to read it anew and to enjoy it afresh.


Hey bud! Super glad you found your way on here!
Glad you're enjoying the updated version.

LK3869 wrote: 6 years ago Oh shit ! I'm only in chapter two and just saw a few comments and your answers... That and the words you use, all those little thoughts and remarks... I know I'm gonna love it :!:
Big thumbs up for the mention of male sweat smell ( I fall for that and manspreading :? ) and Nick's tricky way of introducing some of his bodily fluids in/on you... Better be in the hands of imaginative guys for such nights :)
And, huuu, Steven looks good! Mind if I borrow his face for some future drawings ? Will do it anyway but wanted you to know it was a nice pick, such sweet faces deserve to be shaken a little bit :mrgreen:

Glad you're enjoying this so far, my friend.
Of course you can use Steven's face. I'll let him know you find him attractive 8-)
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Post by LockedInIL »

Well done BondageFreak!!

Your rewrites and edits of these early chapters is producing an even better story than the original, which was itself quite compelling!

What's next once you finish editing the beginning? Further timed reposting of all the chapters? More edits? A mass-dump of the rest of the chapters and then back to writing new content?

We're all looking forward to what's to come; this site reboot, while unfortunate, seems to be producing some very nice side effects... 😁
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Post by bondagefreak »

[mention]LockedInIL[/mention] Hey bud!
Once all the earlier chapters (1-30) have been edited, I'll be reposting the rest in quicker succession.


Next chapter goes to [mention]Mitchelaiden[/mention]
Have fun ;)
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CHAPTER 14 - BRAD'S REVENGE


A sense of relief washed over me when I heard something brushing against my lofty nylon cocoon and realised that a pair of hands were at work, loosening the drawstrings and opening the hoods up.
At least it wasn't a bear or a pack of wolves!
It was probably just Nick opening the bags to check on me.


A draft of fresh air hit my face as the drawstrings were released and the two thick hoods were loosened up.

Under different circumstances, I would've been grateful for the release from the unrelenting warmth of the sleeping bags. But I wasn't expecting Brad to be the one standing over me now.


I could only lay there, staring wide-eyed and at the imposing silhouette that was looming over me.
With the moonlight reflecting on the lake water and bathing the whole area in a soft hue, I could make out the jock's handsome features and cocky smirk.

He was alone, standing over my bound and gagged form. I was in serious trouble and Nick was nowhere in sight.
I could only hope Brad wasn't planning some sort of revenge for the "lack of respect" I had shown him early this evening.


I watched the jock raise his hand and my eyes were suddenly blinded by the bright glare of a compact pocket light.
"Heeeey there, boi. How you holdin' up?" he asked, in an almost too-kind-to-be-true voice.

I felt a warm hand reach inside the bag and felt strong fingers run through my hair.

Brad was crouching over my cot now, flashing his flashlight right in my face and running his fingers through my hair, almost affectionately. He was out to get me, I knew.
This guy was a real snake and I didn't trust him.

"Mmmmhhh?" I yelped, frightened by the fact that he and I were alone and that Nick was probably fast asleep inside the tent.

"Shhhh..." Brad purred, putting a finger over his lips, indicating that I was to remain silent. "No crying, boi. Looks like you and I finally get to spend some quality time together." he added, crouching closer, right over my head.

He was leaning close over me now, his voice only loud enough for both of us to hear.
It didn't take long for me to realise that even if I moaned loudly, the wind, the rustling leaves and the distance the separated me from the tent, would greatly impede my chances of being able to alert Nick.

Not only that, if he was zipped up inside his super thick mummy bag and fast asleep with his head inside the massively overfilled hood, then there's no way in hell he'd be able to hear me, even if I moaned real loud. Especially since I myself was zipped up inside two thick sleeping bags. It was just me and Brad.


"Now, about that "fuck you" from earlier tonight..." he started, "we need to talk."

"Mmgghhmm?" I protested, staring up into the bully's dimly lit face as he placed his pocket light on the ground, but left it on to light up the area. We apparently needed to talk, but how was I supposed to speak with this fuckin' muzzle clamped around my face?!

"Oh, haha! Right. You don't get to talk." he chuckled, gently patting my face, obviously amused by my predicament.

"Listen up, boi. As long as you’re in my camp or anywhere around these woods, you're mine. I fucking own you, just as much as Nick does. You hear me?" he asked, grabbing my nose and pinching my nostrils shut.

"Mmmhhh!" I tried to yell.

"Haha. Yeah, that's right bitch! The next time I tell you something, you better shut up and do it. If you EVER tell me to fuck off again, I swear, I'm gonna beat the shit out of your little face. Got it, punk?" he asked, right before lowering his face over mine and spitting right in my eyes.

"Mmmpphhh!" I cried out, shocked, humiliated, frightened and in desperate need of air.

The jock let go and my nostrils immediately flared open.


"You ever gonna tell me to fuck off again, bitch?!" he asked, pinching my nostrils shut anew.

"Mmmmhh...Uhhmmm." I tried to yell through my gag, shaking my head in a frantic attempt to say "no".
Where was Nick? I wanted Nick!

The jock's fingers released my nostrils and my lungs filled with air once again.
I remained there, breathing heavily through my nose, trying to catch my breath and hoping Brad would just close the sleeping bag hoods up and leave me alone.

I looked into his eyes, but even through the darkness, I knew there was no sympathy or compassion in them.

"You'll have the week to show me how sorry you are." he added. "And you better fucking listen to what I say, or I'm gonna make sure the rest of this trip goes really bad for you if you don't." he finished, flashing me another one of his trademark smirks. Brad had a way of adding humour to everything, but I knew him well enough to know he was dead serious. It was scary, how he could just laugh and chuckle while simultaneously threatening to beat you up to a pulp if you pissed him off...


I was pleasantly surprised when the jock started unbuckling my muzzle and taking it off my face.
But my glimmer of hope was short-lived when I realised what he had in mind.


The muzzle came off, and I got no warning, not even a second or two to relax my jaw.

The instant the dreaded gag came off, my hair was grabbed and a giant, thick wad of cloth was being shoved inside my mouth.

"Mmmpppff..." I cried out, taken off guard by the suddenness and sheer roughness of Brad's manner.

I immediately tried calling for Nick, but Brad had been anticipating that.
Nick never heard my wake up call.

I managed to get a half-second yelp out before the stupid jock jammed the soggy stuffing in between my lips.
"Shhhh...quiet, bitch." he whispered, roughly shoving the giant wad inside my mouth.

My eyes bulged and my toes curled.
The cloth material he was shoving into my throat was too big for my mouth and my cheeks were already full to bursting. Brad didn't care. He just used his big, thick arms to shove the FAT wad in, deeper and deeper, packing my lips up real tight and even filling up the space between my lips and front teeth.



I tried spitting the stuffing out, but my tongue was already pinned down and my eyes were watering up from the size of the intrusion.


I had another problem though.
The gag...something wasn't right with the taste.

My eyes narrowed down on the material Brad was stuffing in my mouth. I could tell it was big and smelly as SIN, but it was too dark for me to make out exactly what it was.

It didn't smell good, it didn't taste good at all, and the texture in my mouth was strange, soggy, yet, somewhat fibrous.


Brad was quick to cram the leather muzzle gag back over my face, not caring about the fact that my cheeks were full to bursting and that part of the stuffing would no longer fit inside my mouth.

"....uummppff." I screamed, freaking out at the fact that I could hardly hear myself screaming with my mouth so jam-packed.

My head was yanked out of the thick sleeping bag hoods and the muzzle was tightly buckled and secured around my head, stopping me from spitting the giant wad out.

It's only when Brad laughed at me and told me what I was chewing on that I finally made the dreaded connection with was I was smelling and tasting.

"Yeah, no one's gonna hear you now, punk. You're gonna spend the night gagging on those fuckin' dirty briefs." he laughed, grabbing the chin strap and using his muscular arms to tighten it to the max, forcing me to bite down hard on musky stuffing.

"Uggggghhhhh!" I screamed, eyes wide in horror.

I thrashed and screamed, but the chin strap was stopping me from opening my jaw and the gorilla tape was doing a more than adequate job at keeping me immobilized and useless.


I thought I was chewing on Brad's used briefs, but to my even great dismay, I wasn't.

Don't get me wrong, chewing on the hunky jock's dirty undies would've been worthy of my worst nightmare, but my demeanour and despair sank to new levels when the bully revealed to me that I was, in fact, chewing on some other dude's dirty undies.

"Those aren't mine by the way." he purred, giving me a light tap on the cheek before picking his pocket-light up and flashing it into my eyes. "Found those briefs lying on the floor of one of the lockers at the gym." he explained.
"I have no idea who wore them, but from the look of them, the guy must've been one big, smelly, hairy fucker." he laughed, smirking down at me and using the flashlight to monitor my quickly changing facial expressions.

With the thick muzzle covering my entire lower face and the large, pube-filled briefs packed in my mouth, it was impossible for me to create even the smallest of noises.

I closed my eyes shut and shook my head from side to side, instinctively trying to shake the well-strapped muzzle off. The gorilla tape around my arms and legs was driving me crazy and no amount of struggling was going to free me from these infernal winter sleeping bags.


I was a handsome, smart and proud young man, yet here I was, being forced to suck on some unknown dude's ripe old briefs.

Tears ran down my face when I realised that the coarse fibres tickling my tongue, palate and throat were actually big pubes and butt hairs. I tried moving my tongue, but all I managed to do was cough and gag on the strong taste of crotch and butt that was filling my mouth.

"...uuggghh!" I screamed, my eyes filled with tears of frustration.
I glared up at my captor and started screaming inside my oversized gag, but he just laughed at the fact that my muffled screams could barely be heard less than a meter away.

"Haha! Hope that tastes better than it smells!" he laughed, giving me a smack on the cheek before grabbing the smelly old army bag's drawstrings and pulling them tight.
"G'night fucker." he said, ignoring my furious screams and closing the giant green hood up, right up over my angry face.


A tiny hole was left over my eyes and immediately, the stinky, thick army bag started smothering my nostrils up and assaulting my senses again.

I thrashed and yelled, but my protests were even MORE muffled up when the second sleeping bag hood was closed up and knotted shut around my head and face.


I wasn't going anywhere, and neither was that big pungent gag I was being forced to suck on.
I was fucked and had no way of calling for help.

This was quite literally turning into the Day of Hell!
Last edited by bondagefreak 3 years ago, edited 5 times in total.
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Post by sniffingyoursocks »

I was finally able to catch up to the latest chapters.
And what should I say?
It feels somehow like those old times (not that old, though, I, for myself started reading the original story around 2015) but still it‘s all fresh, new, vivid...

I especially love those details like Steven forced to sleep in Nick‘s dad‘s old army bag, or Brad stuffing up Steven‘s mouth with a hairy stranger‘s boxers...

Thanks for continuing that, Sir.
Awesome as always - keep up the amazing work!
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Post by Johnsnow »

Love the new chapter. They just keep getting better and are overall a huge upgrade from "version 1.0".
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Post by Scottstud94 »

We're in my favorite string of chapters when Brad really shows kind of who is the boss. I am a huge fan of Brad because he is a domineering master. He doesn't take any nonsense and he doesn't fall for Steven's whining or complaints.

Brad is just an alpha doing alpha things. Making Steven pay for what he did. Well deserved! Nick is like that sometimes but is 95% of the time way too soft on Steven.

Whatever way this ends I am rooting for Brad.
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Post by bondagefreak »

[mention]sniffingyoursocks[/mention] I'm glad you've enjoyed these new additions, babe. I knew you would ;)

[mention]Johnsnow[/mention] Thanks for the encouragement, my friend!

[mention]Scottstud94[/mention] Yup. If I recall correctly, chapter 15 was your favourite, though I also recall you not liking the ending of the chapter as much. Don't wanna delve too much into that, since we've got some new readers now. But yes, Brad is indeed an excellent villain, and a charismatic one at that!
One of your favourite scenes is being re-polished and lightly edited as we speak. I'll be on here in a bit, but I have to warn you, don't hold out for that tree hogtie, my friend. If you do, you'll be disappointed.
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Post by LK3869 »

Hope you won't mind a little fan art...
That's from chapter 13, inside the tent.
So you're in Nick's skin and poor Steven, is staring at you with mixed anger and reproach from between that SOB Brad's thights, like " What'you doing to me Niiick ?!" :D
steven gagged.jpg
Still can't believe you made 100+ chapters... s'gonna be a looong fun read !
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[mention]LK3869[/mention] Holy smokes. DUDE. I'm astounded!

The detail here is mesmerizing. Not only does Steven look EXACTLY like his photo, but Brad's face is also a perfect match. The details here are incredible, right down to the size of Brad's biceps compared to Steven's head.

This is amazing.
It actually fits the scene of chapter 7 extremely well (Steven being prepared for the trip and roughly gagged with Brad's dirty old sock and Nick closing in with the dreaded roll of tape).
Would you allow me to post this at the end of chapter 7?
Of course, you'd receive credit for any drawing you produced.

I think all my readers will agree that this is a wonderful tribute to the early part of the story.
You can tell how rough the jocks are with Steven in this scene, simply by looking at Steven's expression and the way Brad's hand is positioned on Steven's face.

You need to post this in the Art section as well, so that everyone (and not just readers) can see your work.
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Post by Pup »

LK3869 wrote: 6 years ago Hope you won't mind a little fan art...
Damn dude that's epic. Conveys the scene so well and is just generally awesome.
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Post by LK3869 »

[mention]bondagefreak[/mention]
Yeah, I read it all yesterday and mixed up up the scenes, in the tent he end up with a muzzle.
He gets done and undone so many times ... Will take notes :) Muzzle would do a great pic too, a little scary though, à la "silence of the lambs"...
And of course, use that pic any way you'll see fit.
[mention]Pup[/mention] Thanks !
And nice outfit! You've seen "preacher" season 2 ?
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