EASY PREY IV: THE UNEXPECTED MANHUNT (M+/M) ILLUSTRATED! *ANNOUNCEMENT*

Stories that have little truth to them should go here.

IF YOU COULD CHOOSE, WHO WOULD YOUR SIX (6) TENTMATES BE? (SEE PHOTOS ON PAGE 3)

MITCH
35
9%
RICK
18
5%
DAVE
11
3%
FRANK
25
7%
ROBERT
27
7%
DOUG
14
4%
JEFFREY
22
6%
BRYAN
15
4%
ADAM
17
4%
GREGGORY
9
2%
ERIC
37
10%
TREVOR
24
6%
DEREK
12
3%
CHAD
10
3%
SERGEI
23
6%
DUSTIN
45
12%
WILLIAM
28
7%
KEVIN
8
2%
 
Total votes: 380

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Post by Pup Wingletang »

Sensory overload for poor (or maybe not so poor) Ethan. The juxtaposition of big handsome William and his powerfully unpleasant foot odor was just too much for Ethan's mind and body to process so it pulled the emergency relief valve!

Now that bondage is going to feel a lot more real although it sounds like he'll be ramping back up again before long.
A pup is for life but especially for bondage so get out the sleepsack and muzzle.

Don't miss out on the final chapter of Lovingly Zipped Up (M/M)

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Post by bondagefreak »

Thanks for all the wonderful input and comments, guys! I'm absolutely thrilled to see so many of you still enjoying Ethan's adventure even though my production rate has been slower than usual these past couple months. Chapter 22 is well underway and should be published in short order.
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HERE'S THE LATEST CHAPTER, GUYS!
HAD A LOT OF FUN WRITING THIS ONE. ENJOY!


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[mention]ShadowHusky[/mention] [mention]socjuc[/mention] [mention]Mummybag[/mention] [mention]squirrel[/mention] [mention]DeeperThanRed[/mention] [mention]that1kid13[/mention] [mention]Socksbound[/mention] [mention]Volobond[/mention] [mention]Bradstick[/mention] [mention]Msueta@2[/mention] [mention]vincenzotognolo22[/mention] [mention]GoBucks[/mention] [mention]CrownedLoy76[/mention] [mention]Wedgieboy69[/mention] [mention]wataru14[/mention] [mention]Pup Wingletang[/mention] [mention]OrdinaryWorld[/mention] [mention]Gagfan[/mention] [mention]Canuck100[/mention] [mention]The slave[/mention] [mention]Straitjacketed[/mention] [mention]Scottstud94[/mention] [mention]Mitchelaiden[/mention] [mention]BoudBoy22[/mention] [mention]Sockgaggedman[/mention] [mention]subguybr[/mention] [mention]4toes[/mention] [mention]gag1195[/mention] [mention]grayboxers[/mention] [mention]Tsuhaya[/mention] [mention]maliki[/mention] [mention]Red86[/mention] [mention]Stormee[/mention] [mention]KidnappedCowboy[/mention] [mention]slimthic[/mention] [mention]Guardianbound[/mention] [mention]MaxRoper[/mention] [mention]Desiredduck[/mention] [mention]puffalover[/mention] [mention]Yaru[/mention] [mention]Ropelover98[/mention] [mention]pupHoudini[/mention] [mention]thespy[/mention] [mention]Shadowtied2294[/mention] [mention]Footsub123[/mention] [mention]The WinterShuffle[/mention] [mention]noarmgr[/mention]
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AUTHOR'S NOTE
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CHAPTER 22
RUMINATIONS & HAPHAZARD MEASURES


As some of you most likely suspect by this point, my predicament only grew direr and less bearable after that violent release of raw sexual tension. The reeking foot odour which had only seconds ago brought me to the point of unwilling climax instantly lost all of its initial appeal; resulting in my vulnerable nostrils being forced to sniff up a stench my mind could only qualify as being puke-worthy.

With the aching of my balls and the throbbing of my cock now a thing of the past, the putrid chasm that was William's battered running shoe suddenly weighed down on my unaroused senses like a figurative ton of bricks.

Even for a kinky guy like myself, some of the sneakers I'd been forced to sample that night had been nothing less than downright torturous. So you can probably imagine just how revolting and panic-inducing those same shoes would've been to non-kinky guys who weren't into smelly footwear.

Now that all of my built-up horniness had been released, I came to understand just how grossed out and horrified poor Matt must've been back when my high school buddies and I bum-rushed him a while back.

If you've read my previous accounts, then you know damn well he didn't stand a chance against us. My friends and I crashed into him and wrestled him down with the fury of a freak tidal wave before tying him up and silencing his screams with two of the stray socks that had spilt out of the washroom laundry hamper. As you all no doubt recall, the first smelly sock poor Matt was forced to contend with was my older brother Andrew's. The second shitty wad to make its way into his vehemently protesting gob was even worse. It was one of dad's disease-ridden stink bombs!


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As if things hadn't been bad enough for my older brother's friend that day, we taped his face shut without even allowing him the opportunity to warn us that he was due to work the night shift that same evening. I remember watching as the helpless teen was forced head-first into my dad's immensely thick sleeping bag; the bottom of which reeked of his clinically diagnosed foot odour problem.

My friends and I were of course blissfully oblivious to the absurdly harrowing stench we were subjecting poor Matt to. But that was of little consolation to our victim, who ended up strapped inside several more sleeping bags and forced to contend with dad's unbearably potent foot odour for the entire duration of that night.

European strongman Sergei was no doubt experiencing a similar plight, and, to a somewhat lesser degree, so was Eric. My mind dwelled upon them and their respective plights for another brief moment before unavoidably bringing back into focus my own irrefutably distressing predicament.

Fortunately for me, William's indescribably potent shoe was promptly removed from my face by none other than my godfather Frank, just a few minutes later. Suffice it to say, never had I been more pleased to see the overbearing behemoth-of-a-man step in and intervene as I was that evening.


I watched as the throng of rambunctious musclemen grew smaller and smaller, and watched as dad's cheerful mates successively filed out of the once dangerously cramped abode. My chestnut-coloured eyebrows arched up in unabashed surprise as the two hogtied prisoners were carried out of the tent; both of them with their mouths still packed to the brim and their heartily protesting faces wedged deep within Eric's foul-smelling trainers.

Sergei let out a valiant cry for help, but even his most heartfelt efforts were easily defeated by the giant gag composed of his fellow prisoner's fuming bundles. Eric too laughed and cried out; the sound of his heavily muffled voice merely serving to confirm the effectiveness of Chad's musty cotton stinkers.


One of the more handsome guys - Kevin I think - briefly came back into the tent to fetch Sergei's sleeping bag, alerting me to the fact that our eastern European friend would be spending the night in one of the other dome-shaped shelters. No less than five seconds passed after Kevin's departure that another shapely figure - this time Chad's - entered the tent carrying his own supremely well-stuffed sleeping bag.


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I would've normally been quite alarmed at the prospect of sharing an enclosed space with the big, burly, bald-headed muscle-tyrant, but I nevertheless found solace in the fact that he seemed quite content with just sticking to his side of the abode and swapping jokes with his two buddies Dustin and Derek.

My talkative father was quite predictably the last one to start getting ready for bed, and by the time he wished our other campmates goodnight and sealed the sturdy tent door shut, Chad, Derek, Dustin and uncle Robert were already clad in their boxers and zipped up in their sleeping bags.


Never before had I been a witness to the spectacle of so many thick thighs and freakishly bulging packages, but I knew from the sudden surge of strange feelings inside me that I greatly enjoyed what it was I was seeing. I didn't actually want to enjoy it, but I did. The appeal of their huge bodies - particularly Dustin's - was undeniable. I could pretend as though it didn't have any effect on me, but doing so would've meant being in denial about my feelings and innermost desires.

In any case, dad eventually followed suit and began readying himself for bed while my underwear-clad godfather dimmed the abode's battery-powered LED lights and started restoring some semblance of order to his clutter-filled duffle bag.

I watched as the squatting leviathan absentmindedly rummaged through his own belongings and then scrunched my face up in blatant disapproval as a terrifyingly thunderous fart suddenly blasted out of his freakishly oversized rear end.



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Frank somewhat predictably voiced a sorry excuse for an empty apology but gave no outward sign of concern for the fact that my defenceless sniff-holes were located only about a foot away from his phenomenally large bums.

Knowing full well the danger that awaited me if I signalled my revulsion through other means, I turned my head away, chewed on my hefty sponge gag and made a point of remaining silent. Or at least...that was the plan. Much to my own imminent horror, the stench of Frank's gaseous release was a match for my dad's infamous fart bombs, resulting in my hazel eyes nearly bulging out of their sockets and my voice rising up in a panic.


"Mmgghh ugghm phhggmph!" I cried out and screamed, choking on my gag due to the foulness of Frank's fart.

Dad immediately chuckled, flashing me his pearly white grin upon noticing the severity of my demise. I yelled out for him to intervene, which thankfully he did...just not quite in the fashion I was naively hoping for.

Instead of removing the tape from my face and pulling the thick gag out so that I could breathe with my mouth, the stupendously well-built fire marshal simply removed the preposterously fat puffer jacket he'd been wearing for the past two days, allowed it to land on top of my gurney-bound form, and then stepped out of the tent in order to take a piss.

The last thing I saw was dad's thick arms and heavily-built wife-beater-clad chest before his freakishly stuffed jacket landed on my face and plunged my world into darkness. Though his intent was pure and his desire to soothe my momentary distress seemed real, the hulking man remained wholly oblivious to the brand new predicament now being imposed upon me.

The inside of his suffocatingly thick jacket was warmer than a coal furnace, and its tremendously generous loft was impregnated with the same annoyingly strong scent that permeated the inside of his sleeping bag.

I, of course, knew full well that its immensely bulbous form shielded me from the toxic stench of my beefy godfather's lingering gas, but even so, dad's improvised haven didn't stir up much enthusiasm on my part.

"Mmggh. Phhggh mggph. Mggghmph." I moaned and groaned over and over again; my head shaking 'no' and my brow locked in a perpetual frown. My nostrils flared open, more out of obligation than anything else, but even after an entire minute of drawing in laboured sniffs, I found little merit in dad's stupendously musky prison.


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It actually dawned upon me that had the jacket belonged to anyone else in camp, I might've actually enjoyed it. Like really really enjoyed it! Uncle Dave, William, Jeffrey, Bryan, Trevor, Derek, Chad, Dustin...any of them really. Heck, I would've even preferred it if the jacket had been Frank's or that big, gruff-mannered medic Greg's!

Oh, don't get me wrong, I was lucid enough to realise that Mitch was easily one of the more handsome men in camp. But even so, he was my father. Sniffing his musk, no matter how earthy, strong or familiar it was, held very little appeal to me. It just didn't. I accepted it, mostly 'cause I didn't have any other choice than to accept it. But I didn't like it, just as I loathed the thought of having my face smothered up inside his musky as fuck winter sleeping bag.



Frank very foreseeably laughed upon noticing my well-meaning dad's haphazard attempt to calm and protect me. The 260-pound behemoth took note of my subdued laments and heard my frustrated mewlings, but he still happily went about pressing his bear paw-sized hands down atop the overstuffed jacket's glossy jet-black exterior.

The cacophonic swooshing of noisy nylon filled my ears as I attempted to free my suffocating face from the insurmountably thick and harrowingly potent-smelling mountain of down.

I cried out anew, this time more out of breathlessness and panic rather than simple revulsion. Frank continued teasing and smothering me with my own dad's stupidly fat puffer for what seemed like the better part of five minutes, and only stopped tormenting me upon Mitch's eventual reentry.

When finally the teasing stopped and the swooshing furnace was pulled off my frowning face, I was greeted with dad's welcome return and the irrevocably impressive sight of his fiercely hairy and imposingly well-built torso.

As you can no doubt probably imagine, I thought I'd seen it all by that point and was more than ready to call it a night. So imagine my utter despair when the towering hulk who'd sired me began unbuckling his leather belt and pulling his big muddy boots off. The worse was yet to come, I knew. The instant those giant boots came off, all hell would break loose. All hell would break loose, and I was going nowhere.



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Post by Stormee »

Seems likes things are starting to calm down for the night as the gang of burly muscled men are calling it a night. Seemed like they were going to ignore Ethan as if he wasn't there, but Mitch and Frank still kept their eyes on him. Good thing Ethan calmed down when his father tossed his coat on him than letting him panic or demand to be released. Looks like Ethan will be spending the rest of the night in the two bags and gurney without much of a choice, Mitch wants to make sure he is safe.

Nice work again, [mention]bondagefreak[/mention]. Can't wait for more. :D
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Post by ShadowHusky »

Such a great chapter, only emphasised by the inclusion of the images. Really helps build a better mental picture <3
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Post by GoBucks »

Simple calm down chapter, and yet I still found it to be really hot! Ethan is so lucky to have such handsome scented men to take care of him ;)
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Post by Bradstick »

Fantastic chapter! I like how things are calming down as everyone goes to their tents and gets ready for bed. Just because things are calm does not mean things will be easy for Ethan. He still has 5 huge men in that tent with all combined footwear out in the open. And with his gag blocking his mouth, his nostrils are in for a rough night.

I am curious how Sergio and Eric are handling their nights and what kind of torture they are being put through. Great way to start off the weekend! Can’t wait for the next one!
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Post by gag1195 »

This has already been an exciting trip! This night has been torturous and blissful for little Ethan! It's wonderful to see that Eric and Sergei will be spending the night restrained, even if all the prisoners are being kept apart! And of course, the questions in my head are: Will Sergei, Eric, and Ethan be released tomorrow morning? When/if Sergei is released, will he attempt a revenge plan of his own?
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Post by KidnappedCowboy »

I want to be Sergei!

I am amazing myself, [mention]bondagefreak[/mention]. Your changing my tastes (a rather apt description :P )
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Post by The slave »

Wow it's really awesome
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Post by Guardianbound »

Oof poor Ethan. I'm still hoping for an alternate timeline where all these hunks get bound and gagged. That would be heaven.
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Post by Wedgieboy69 »

I love the balance of heaven and hell for Ethan. the very thing that inflicts great pleasure can instantly turn to torture with a simple change of our mindset
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Post by squirrel »

Ethan seems to be having some rough time under his father's puffer jacket, but I'm sure that deep down he's having the time of his life :twisted:
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Post by Pup Wingletang »

Looks like each tent has their own bondage mascot. Even without anyone deliberately tormenting him it seems like there will be no escape from all the smells in the tent for Ethan tonight.
A pup is for life but especially for bondage so get out the sleepsack and muzzle.

Don't miss out on the final chapter of Lovingly Zipped Up (M/M)

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Post by thespy »

wow! incredible story, so detailed and so hot, hot beyond words. He really got all he dreamed of and more, I would gladly swap out places with him to experience the stench of all those big burly dudes, even if I have to sacrifice my nose for it haha.

great stuff, keep up the excellent work man! looking forward to reading more from you.
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Post by noarmgr »

I can't wait to hear the rest of the story
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Post by bondagefreak »

Welcome aboard to [mention]noarmgr[/mention]! It's always a special thrill seeing a new user pop up. Don't forget to vote on the poll at the top of the thread and share your answers with us, buddy. Looking forward to seeing you become a regular participant on here ;)


STATS FOR NERDS

SEEING AS HOW I'VE BEEN GETTING THIS REQUEST A LOT, I HAD A BRIEF CHAT WITH ETHAN EARLIER TODAY AND HE WAS QUICK TO POINT OUT THAT SOME OF THE STATS I PREVIOUSLY PUT ON HIS DAD'S STATS CARD WERE ERRONEOUS. AT ETHAN'S OWN REQUEST, I'VE CORRECTED THE ISSUES AND TWEAKED BOTH HIS AND HIS DAD'S STATS SHEET.

FOR YOU ALL NERDS OUT THERE:
HERE'S THE 2022/2023 AMENDMENT



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[mention]ShadowHusky[/mention] [mention]socjuc[/mention] [mention]Mummybag[/mention] [mention]squirrel[/mention] [mention]DeeperThanRed[/mention] [mention]that1kid13[/mention] [mention]Socksbound[/mention] [mention]Volobond[/mention] [mention]Bradstick[/mention] [mention]Msueta@2[/mention] [mention]vincenzotognolo22[/mention] [mention]GoBucks[/mention] [mention]CrownedLoy76[/mention] [mention]Wedgieboy69[/mention] [mention]wataru14[/mention] [mention]Pup Wingletang[/mention] [mention]OrdinaryWorld[/mention] [mention]Gagfan[/mention] [mention]Canuck100[/mention] [mention]The slave[/mention] [mention]Straitjacketed[/mention] [mention]Scottstud94[/mention] [mention]Mitchelaiden[/mention] [mention]BoudBoy22[/mention] [mention]Sockgaggedman[/mention] [mention]subguybr[/mention] [mention]4toes[/mention] [mention]gag1195[/mention] [mention]grayboxers[/mention] [mention]Tsuhaya[/mention] [mention]maliki[/mention] [mention]Red86[/mention] [mention]Stormee[/mention] [mention]KidnappedCowboy[/mention] [mention]slimthic[/mention] [mention]Guardianbound[/mention] [mention]MaxRoper[/mention] [mention]Desiredduck[/mention] [mention]puffalover[/mention] [mention]Yaru[/mention] [mention]Ropelover98[/mention] [mention]pupHoudini[/mention] [mention]thespy[/mention] [mention]Shadowtied2294[/mention] [mention]Footsub123[/mention] [mention]The WinterShuffle[/mention] [mention]noarmgr[/mention] [mention]123[/mention]
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Post by Stormee »

bondagefreak wrote: 1 year ago

STATS FOR NERDS

SEEING AS HOW I'VE BEEN GETTING THIS REQUEST A LOT, I HAD A BRIEF CHAT WITH ETHAN EARLIER TODAY AND HE WAS QUICK TO POINT OUT THAT SOME OF THE STATS I PREVIOUSLY PUT ON HIS DAD'S STATS CARD WERE ERRONEOUS. AT ETHAN'S OWN REQUEST, I'VE CORRECTED THE ISSUES AND TWEAKED BOTH HIS AND HIS DAD'S STATS SHEET.

FOR YOU ALL NERDS OUT THERE:
HERE'S THE 2022/2023 AMENDMENT



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Stat changes? I don't think I see anything different. :lol: What did you see wrong here in this sheet, Ethan? I'm curious to know.
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Post by OrdinaryWorld »

Stormee wrote: 1 year ago Stat changes? I don't think I see anything different. :lol: What did you see wrong here in this sheet, Ethan? I'm curious to know.
I'm mirroring this, lol

Only difference I can see is (I think) 18 FO -> 19 FO, and the specification that Mitch's feet are wide.
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Post by The slave »

I really love Ethan lol
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[mention]Stormee[/mention] [mention]OrdinaryWorld[/mention]
A few very minor tweaks but obviously nothing too noticeable or consequential.
I'd ask Ethan to provide us with stat cards for the other guys, but I'm afraid he only knows most of his dad's workmates by name and would only be able to provide such stats for his uncles and godfather. His verbose narration will have to do for the time being ;)
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HERE'S THE LATEST CHAPTER, GUYS!
HAD A LOT OF FUN WRITING THIS ONE. ENJOY!


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[mention]ShadowHusky[/mention] [mention]socjuc[/mention] [mention]Mummybag[/mention] [mention]squirrel[/mention] [mention]DeeperThanRed[/mention] [mention]that1kid13[/mention] [mention]Socksbound[/mention] [mention]Volobond[/mention] [mention]Bradstick[/mention] [mention]Msueta@2[/mention] [mention]vincenzotognolo22[/mention] [mention]GoBucks[/mention] [mention]CrownedLoy76[/mention] [mention]Wedgieboy69[/mention] [mention]wataru14[/mention] [mention]Pup Wingletang[/mention] [mention]OrdinaryWorld[/mention] [mention]Gagfan[/mention] [mention]Canuck100[/mention] [mention]The slave[/mention] [mention]Straitjacketed[/mention] [mention]Scottstud94[/mention] [mention]Mitchelaiden[/mention] [mention]BoudBoy22[/mention] [mention]Sockgaggedman[/mention] [mention]subguybr[/mention] [mention]4toes[/mention] [mention]gag1195[/mention] [mention]grayboxers[/mention] [mention]Tsuhaya[/mention] [mention]maliki[/mention] [mention]Red86[/mention] [mention]Stormee[/mention] [mention]KidnappedCowboy[/mention] [mention]slimthic[/mention] [mention]Guardianbound[/mention] [mention]MaxRoper[/mention] [mention]Desiredduck[/mention] [mention]puffalover[/mention] [mention]Yaru[/mention] [mention]Ropelover98[/mention] [mention]pupHoudini[/mention] [mention]thespy[/mention] [mention]Shadowtied2294[/mention] [mention]Footsub123[/mention] [mention]The WinterShuffle[/mention] [mention]noarmgr[/mention]
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CHAPTER 23
BLISSFUL CAPTIVITY


As far as dads go, I guess you could say mine was a pretty cool one. Mitch was definitely a man-in-charge and an Alpha in his own right, but unlike my godfather Frank, he was actually fairly lax and not in the habit of being overbearing.

A cheerful soul by nature, dad enjoyed the simple pleasures in life. His authority as head of the family was unmistakable, but never had he raised his voice or chosen to act in a heavy-handed manner. The one thing he didn't quite have going for him though was his general unmindfulness and propensity for willful teasing. Dad was a menace! A veritable, breathing, walking menace!

The two-meter-tall fire marshal's phenomenally broad soles were problematic to the point of being impossibly revolting, yet he had absolutely no qualms about kicking his boots off, plopping down on the living room couch and airing his feet out, even when others complained about the stench they gave off.

It didn't matter if you crinkled your nose up, waved your hand in front of your face, moaned and groaned or voiced out a wordy complaint. As far as his feet were concerned, dad quite simply didn't give a single flying fuck.


Given how irritatingly inconsiderate he could be at times, it should come as no surprise to you that the beefy muscleman remained seemingly oblivious to my plight, even upon undoing his crusty laces and pulling his big muddy boots off. The removal of his sweat-soaked socks and the airing of his freakishly wide soles predictably resulted in the sudden rise of disapproving groans coming from the tent's other occupants. But dad remained virtually unfazed by them, having heard the same complaints over and over again since well before the time my brother and I were born.


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Mitch didn't notice the unmistakably horrified expression on my face, but much to my own imminent chagrin, Frank surely did. As soon as the 44-year-old fire marshal turned around to get his bedding arrangements in order, my stupendously burly godfather sprang into action.

I watched as one of his bear paw-sized hands rushed to grab the steaming hot wads sitting in dad's fuming work boots and then looked up in indescribable terror as the humongous mass of suffocatingly raunchy cotton was loosely balled up and forcibly rammed down atop my panicked face.

The briefest and most alarming of garbled yelps managed to make it out of my heavily packed mouth before dad's disease-ridden ball of unfathomably putrid tube socks swooped in to further muffle down my screams. A heart-wrenching mixture of laborious sniffing and choking noises filled our side of the abode as my oxygen-deprived lungs struggled to pull air in through the thick bundle of pungent material being pressed over my flaring sniff-holes.


Frank mentioned something about not appreciating the way I'd argued with my father the previous night, and then he started grumbling a bunch of condescending rebukes with that thick heavy voice of his.

Dad quickly turned around upon hearing my garbled screams, but merely laughed upon noticing the nature of my demise. No outwardly detectable signs of embarrassment lined his cheery face or chipped away at his pearly grin. His clinically diagnosed foot odour was severe to the point of being puke-inducing, and his five-day-old tube socks gave off fumes the likes of which I'd never sniffed before. He didn't mind that Chad was sent to our tent as a result of having lost a bet with his tentmates, and he didn't care about the fact that everyone in camp dreaded the thought of being assigned to our tent, for fear of having to endure the otherworldly stench of his footwear. Dad didn't care, just as it didn't bother him to witness the spectacle of his indescribably putrescent socks being weaponised against his very own heavily bound and gagged son.

In fact, it was quite the opposite. The sight of me choking on the smell of his foul wads was apparently a cause for laughter. Frank too laughed at my expense, but his tone was far more disciplinarian than that of my father's.


"When your dad puts his foot down and tells you to stop arguing, you close your trap up and do as you're told. You hear me, young man? I don't care that you're eighteen. The next time I hear you mouthing off or talking back to him like that, I'm gonna personally see to it that you're bound up and left sucking on one of his wads." the giant brute threatened, lifting the sweltering mass of bacteria-infested socks off my face just long enough to note my cross-eyed expression.

I was in no shape to provide a retort, mind you, but dad filled the fleeting moment of silence by resuming whatever it was he was doing and unceremoniously allowing a brief fart to blast out of his huge underwear-clad bums.


It continued like that for the better part of a minute; with big burly Frank granting me only the briefest of reprieves before once again smothering my face beneath the sickeningly sweltering mound of dad's unbelievably pungent stink bombs. I shook my head in uncontrollable dismay, struggled against the thick sleeping bags and tyrannical gurney straps keeping me hostage, and mouthed off a series of hopelessly muted laments in the hopes of conveying just how unbelievably torturous my hunky father's foot odour was.

Stench-induced tears continued welling in my eyes even after the socks were permanently removed from my cross-eyed face and banished back down to the cluttered tent floor. Suffice it to say, I did not enjoy having my nose beneath them one bit. Not one bloody fuckin' bit.


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With Frank having finally called it a night and dad in the midst of fixing up his own sleeping arrangements - which consisted of my sleeping bag and Andrew's combined together - I was left with no alternative recourse or means of escaping my fate. No matter how much I struggled or which way I turned my head, each sniff I took came tainted with the overpowering scent of the beefy marshal's absurdly potent foot odour.

Part of me felt as though my godfather's warning had been nothing but an empty threat, but I also knew how authoritative he could be, not to mention the particularly grim view he took of bratty behaviour and wanton disregard for authority. This was a man who didn't tolerate foul language or any lip from his own sons; a man I knew wouldn't hesitate to put me in a time-out if he felt I truly deserved it.

Given the sheer severity of my own father's foot odour problem, the concept of someone actually using his worn socks to gag me seemed far-fetched, to say the least. After witnessing this night's harrowing torments and wild takedowns, however, Frank's grimly-voiced warnings were simply too serious to ignore. On paper, it might've been hot. But in real life, the thought of being bound up against my will and forced to suck on one of dad's rotten stinkers scared the living daylights out of me! As well it should have.


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In any case, I was relieved beyond reason when the hairy-chested 44-year-old muscle-dilf finally turned around and cast his gaze upon me. Though no discernable signs of malice lit his kind face, I once again found myself greatly annoyed by his unwitting display of genuine obliviousness.

I shamelessly broke down and had a bit of a hissy fit when dad placed a giant palm down on top of my brown-haired scalp and asked me what it was I was moaning and groaning about. My furrowed brow and crinkled nose should've made it amply clear to him that the nauseating fumes spilling out of his godforsaken boots were driving me crazy, but even so, the man remained seemingly perplexed by the look of revulsion on my face.

Much to his own credit though, he watched rather patiently as I went on a panicked rant and tried negotiating some sort of message out past the infuriating sponge that had my oral cavity plugged up.


"Yeah, looks like they put a thick gag inside your mouth." the cheery muscle-lout eventually mused, speaking of Frank and Greg while at the same time ignoring my rather desperate attempts at working an intelligible word around the gag his colleagues had forcibly imposed on me.

The 230-pound beefcake watched as my futile efforts bore no fruit, but then signalled the end of my harrowing plight by unzipping the top of Doug's monstrously bloated sleeping bag and doing the same with his own absurdly thick one.

"Alright kiddo. Time to sleep." he lovingly spoke, gently pushing my head - which had been protruding outside the sleeping bag cocoon - inside the warm embrace of his immensely fat, fear-inspiringly musky prison. Dad was, as you probably know by now, entirely oblivious to the potency of the musk that permeated the inside of his sleeping bag. He just pushed my head inside it, and then slowly began pulling the zipper up without even apologising or at the very least acknowledging the irritatingly earthy scent my nostrils would soon be forced to contend with.


You probably think you know how I reacted at that point, right?
You probably think you know, but you'd most definitely be wrong.

The heavy-duty zipper continued its steady ascent past my neck and chin; causing a stupendously menacing tsunami-like mound of loft to predictably start closing in on my gagged face. Had the tent not been reeking of dad's revoltingly putrid footwear, I would've surely been twisting my head left and right in a desperate bid to steer clear of the maddeningly thick loft that threatened to trap and suffocate me. The circumstances of my predicament, however, didn't afford me the luxury of refusing this lesser hell.

When the tidal wave of supremely hefty insulation closed in and began overtaking my face, I didn't resist it. I faced the incredibly musky loft head-on, waited for it to swallow up the cartilaginous protrusion of my nose and then took a great big whiff before letting out a sigh of great relief.

Dad's mighty bag stank and smelled every bit as strong as his insanely fat puffer did. But even so, breathing in the poignant musk that permeated the inside of his winter bag was a figurative walk in the park next to the unfathomably ghastly torment of facing off against his footwear. In short, it smelled real strong, but it was a million times better.



And so I just lay there; arms and legs securely tucked at my sides, taking big heavy whiffs beneath the insurmountably fat loft of my dad's crazy thick sleeping bag. Another sigh of relief made it out past my heavily packed mouth as the familiar scent of his earthy musk inundated my nostrils and successfully kept his less palatable foot odour at bay.

Mitch flashed me a quizzical smirk upon noticing how strangely relieved and suddenly at peace I seemed. He placed his free hand back on top of my head, tenderly ran his lightly-calloused fingers through my hair and paused the growling zipper's noisy ascent.

The man spent a brief moment telling me how happy and proud he was to have me on this trip with him, before finally briefing me about his plans for tomorrow and asking me if I was nice and comfy.

I couldn't really answer of course, not with the enormous gag filling my mouth and his supremely hefty sleeping bag smothering my face from the eyes down. But I nevertheless tried my best to mouth off an affirmative response even though I knew my earnest efforts would only yield the absolute faintest of audible whimpers.

"Don't worry, son." the hunky fire marshal spoke, affectionately ruffling my hair up whilst I took another big whiff through my nasal passageways. "Daddy's trusty old bag'll keep you real nice and warm tonight."


An unmistakable feeling of peace and serenity washed over me when the hulking muscleman finally lowered his face down and puckered his lips atop my exposed forehead. I closed my eyes and purred; basking in the cosy warmth and safety of my unreasonably thick cocoon and enjoying the sensation of soft cotton pressing up against my bare skin.

The noisy zipper's angry croaking resumed, immediately alerting me to the fact that it was on the move again. But the opening of my slumberous eyelids only granted me the briefest glimpse of my father's loving face before the tidal wave of smelly loft overtook my eyes and forehead. With the zipper continuing its steady ascent and reaching its zenith many inches above the top of my dishevelled brown-haired dome, my world was replaced by one of overpowering musk and impenetrable darkness.

The muffled sound of another noisy zipper quickly broke the silence, and I immediately knew by the growing tightness of my prison and the increasingly smothering embrace of thick loft hugging my gagged face that Doug's bloated mummy bag was also in the process of being slowly zipped up.

One by one, the innumerable safety straps keeping me gurney-bound and immobile were dutifully double-checked and tightened off, and then I knew with utmost certainty that there'd be no escaping my fate that night.

I was a prisoner in this tent, and I'd spend the next eight or nine hours contemplating my predicament and pondering the implications of my own captivity. With nothing but a gag to keep me quiet and dad's scent to keep me company, the rest of my world felt as though it were an ocean away.



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Stormee
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Post by Stormee »

Sounds like you're coming to terms and accepting your captivity in the bags and gurney, Ethan. And don't let Frank scare you. He's just wants you to be a respective young man and not a delinquent who disrespects his own father. Just be careful or else those wads are going in your mouth the next night and not the thick sponge. But on the bright side, being surrounded by your dad's thick bag pulled over you sounds like a blissful time since it's not his coat. So sleep tight, and by morning you will be free.

Hopefully.

Great work as always, [mention]bondagefreak[/mention]! Can't wait for more.
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