TGT88 : 01 - A Rocky Mountain High (M/M, fict)

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TGT88 : 01 - A Rocky Mountain High (M/M, fict)

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TGT88's stories
01 - A Rocky Mountain High
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By TGT88

Fri Aug 12, 2011 10:33 pm

Part One: First Time

"You said 'As tight as you can', remember?", Brett said with a devilish smirk.

"MMMMPH!", Jack said as he stretched and clinched his fingers - the only part of his body he could move.

"Shut up.", Brett smiled as he tapped Jack's cheek with the back of his hand and grabbed a roll of duct tape.

-----

Jack and Brett had been friends all throughout childhood, both growing up in Durango, Colorado. Even though they went to different colleges, they always met up in Durango over the holidays. They would ski the slopes in the winter and camp deep in the Rockies in the summer. They never took the breathtaking Colorado landscape for granted.

Jack was 21. He was 6'3" and rather slender with black hair and green eyes. Brett was 22. He was 6'1" with brown hair and brown eyes. He was slender as well, but had the bulging muscles of a much stockier person - a function of his almost religious workout routine. Jack had often wondered how someone as skinny as Brett could have so much muscle mass.

It was summer. The cool, clear Colorado air blew softly over the Rockies, calling Brett and Jack back for their annual camping trip. The two of them had gone on this trip since they were in Cub Scouts together. Once Brent was 17, their parents no longer went along, leaving the two of them alone to fend for themselves and develop skills necessary for survival in the unforgiving mountains.

Brett was eagerly packing up his 4Runner when Jack pulled up along the curb in his Corolla, screeching to a halt. "Dude, we'd better hurry up if we want to set up camp before dark!" Jack said anxiously. "Relax.", Brett said calmly, "I've got lanterns this time." Brett held up two butane lanterns. The two of them set off in the 4Runner just as the sun vanished behind the Rocky Mountains.

-----

It was nine o'clock when the two of them arrived at the campsite - Pine Creek, site #3. It was, incidentally, the most remote campsite at the park. It was surrounded on all sides by at least four miles of dense forest. They pitched the tent, a roomy five-person, as they had done many times before. "Nice. All set up." said Brett.

"Let's get a fire going." said Jack, already grabbing some sticks from nearby. Soon they had a fire blazing nice and hot. The temperature had already fallen to 55 degrees up in the mountains where they were. After a while, they put on their jackets.

All was still and silent around them, save the occasional strong gust of cool air that shook the trees high above.

"So what did you bring?", asked Jack, curiously.
"Just some whiskey and gin.", said Brett.

The two of them, tired and weary from traveling, yet excited and eager to experience the visceral highs of the mountains, began indulging themselves.

"Brett..." said Jack, "Tomorrow, we're going all the way up to the top of that!" he gestured with his drink at a high peak on the horizon.

"Settle down, buddy.", said Brett, "That peak's about twenty miles off, dumbass." His gaze wandered around a bit, then met up with Jack's. The two of them stared at eachother for a few seconds, then off into the woods.

"Man... When I'm out here I just feel so... you know... alive! Real! Like a wild man! I don't need no... credit card or laptop or microwave dinners. I'm here in the wild!" Jack stood up and started walking around the fire and pointing up to the sky and off to the hills to get his message across.

"Sit down, Supertramp." teased Brett, "Stay put." As Jack reluctantly sat down by the fire, Brett got up and went to his 4Runner, grabbing something from the glove box. He sat back down, his face showing subdued eagerness.

"Okay, I'll just sit here. In fact, I'm gonna lay down and look at all of those pretty stars up there! Might even count 'em!" Jack said, clealy under the influence of a bit too much whiskey. "Whoa, dizzy." Jack said as he turned over, facing the ground.

Brett seized the moment. "Hey Jack. Have you ever been tied up?"

It was one of those questions you would only ask if alcohol was a factor in the discussion.

"Uhh... maybe as a kid. My neighbor from down the street tied me to a tree with kite string once."

"No. I mean... really... tied up.", Brett said, his voice dropping slightly in pitch.

"Uh. Nope. I bet I could get out though. I've watched those magic tricks where the guy is tied up with 200 feet of rope and he just wiggles out after a few minutes. Seems easy." Jack said, becoming more cocky.

Brett sat up slowly and cracked his knuckles, one by one.

"Oh really?", Brett said quietly. Brett, unlike Jack, had completed his Eagle Scout certification and was an expert at tying all kinds of knots. This fact never crossed Jack's mind.

"Yeah. I'm pretty sure I could. No matter how tight the ropes were either." Jack was really egging Brett on at this point. Jack signed and relaxed on the ground. Brett quietly stood up, crept towards Jack and reached for his back pocket. He slowly pulled out a pair of Peerless Model 700 handcuffs.

Brett silently crouched down over Jack, who was too buzzed to be aware of his presence.

Snap! Click..click...click....click. Snap! Click.click...click....click. Brett forcefully grabbed Jack's wrists and locked the cuffs on tight.

"Let's see if you can." Brett said, as he reached for the key to double-lock the cuffs.

"Holy shit, man.", said Jack, "Where did you get those?" There was a tinge of fear in his voice.

Brett didn't answer. Instead, he grinned and walked towards his 4Runner once again. He returned with three 50 foot lengths of white nylon rope and three rolls of duct tape. He threw everything down on the ground, except for a roll of duct tape.

"Let's see if you can talk now..." Brett whisphered as he quickly wrapped Jack's mouth six times with duct tape, pulling tightly for each pass. He grabbed his knife from his jeans pocket and cut the tape, pressing the end down behind his head and giving him a tap on the cheek.

"Much better.", Brett grinned.

Brett wasn't finished. He grabbed the first length of rope and went to work on Jack's ankles. He cut 25 feet of rope off, lashed Jack's ankles together tightly then cinched them, knotting them off four times. He wasn't messing around. He used the remaining 25 feet just above his knees, doing the same thing. The pulled harshly when he was cinching the knots. Brett had an eye for detail in his work.

"Now you're not going anywhere. I still think you're too confident though..." Brett sneered.

Brett began tying Jack's wrists together just above the handcuffs, which were digging into his skin a bit. He wrapped the rope around a full twenty times before cinching it off and tying a complex series of knots to secure his work. He did the same to Jack's elbows.

"MMMMMMMPH!", Jack yelled as Brett roughly yanked his elbows together while cinching the rope.

"Be careful what you wish for." Brett said as he reached for the third length of rope.

He pulled Jack's hopelessly bound hands and legs together, threading the rope through the dense, tight network of knots and pulled Jack into a strict hogtie. He knotted off the rope six times and reached for his back pocket again.

Snap! Click.click.click...click....click....click. Snap! Click..click...click..click...click......click.

"MMMPH!?" Jack couldn't believe it. His friend was a maniac! Brett locked a second pair of Peerless cuffs on his wrists, even tighter than the first.

Brett took some string from his backpack and tightly tied Jacks's toes together. He wasn't moving at all.

"You said 'As tight as you can', remember?", Brett said with a devilish smirk.

"MMMMPH!", Jack said as he stretched and clinched his fingers - the only part of his body he could move.

"Shut up.", Brett smiled as he tapped Jack's cheek with the back of his hand and grabbed a roll of duct tape.

Brett relentlessly wrapped Jack's hands in duct tape, making at least twenty passes, pulling tightly for each one. His hands were useless now.

"Now for the finishing touch." Brett whisphered onto Jack's ear, as he saw the growing panic in his friend's eyes.

Brett returned from his backpack with a Zippo lighter.

"Hold still... hahaha!" Brett laughed as he ignited the flame.

He aimed the flame at the thick knots holding his captive still. The knots melted slightly into a rock-hard, solid mass.

There was no escape for Jack.

"Now, buddy... try to get out." Brett said as he held his hand on the back of Jack's tense neck.

"MMMPH! MMMMMPH!" Jack yelled.

"Whatever." Brett said, calmly, as he reached for the whiskey and took a swig.

"You've got until the morning, buddy." Brett said as he headed off to the tent.

Jack laid there. He couldn't move. The ropes were like forged iron on his limbs. The handcuffs were relentless in their cold steel grip. There was no escape. After a while, Jack fell asleep.

-----

Predictably, Jack hadn't made any progress undoing any of Brett's masterful handiwork. The next morning he was asleep, face down in the dirt, his limbs slightly purple from a reduced blood circulation.

"Fail!" Brett yelled as he stumbled out of the tent, alcohol still impairing his balance a bit.

"I'll let you loose. We've got some prime hiking planned for today."

Brett took his knife and cut off Jack's many layers of ropes. This took a full fifteen minutes. The rope burn left behind was a perfect mirror image of what was removed. Brett unlocked both pairs of handcuffs and carefully removed the duct tape from Jack's hands and mouth.

"Good God!!!" gasped Jack. "What the hell was THAT?! You're a psycho, man!" Jack looked bewildered, yet something in his eyes told Brett he wasn't utterly put off by what had happened to him. "You win, okay?!" Jack said as he stared packing up his backpack for the hike.

-----

The two of them hiked up to a nearby peak where they took a break for lunch.

"You know..." Jack said, clearly hesitant and a bit nervous "I have to make a confession."

"Yeah?", Brett said, as he chewed up his sandwich.

"I've never felt so... good... in my life as I did last night when you were tying me up like that. I know it doesn't make sense, but-"

"Hey. I know. Jack, I've been wanting to do that to you for a while now. I had an idea you'd like it. I don't know why, but I did." Brett said, frankly.

The two of them dealved into a psychological discussion of bondage, friendship and other things. What they both knew was this: Their friendship had been made stronger from this experience.

-----

My first story. How was it? :wink:

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Sat Aug 13, 2011 8:08 pm

Part Two: To The Top

"Falcon Peak." Brett spoke the words slowly and clearly.

Falcon Peak was a bit of a local legend. It was the highest part of the park and was home only to an abandoned radio tower. It jutted up from the mountain range, two hundred feet of near-vertical rock. It was a rite of passage for seasoned climbers to scale the peak and camp on the top. Due to its evident dangers, the area of the park was closed twenty years ago.

"What? There's not a campsite there. It's almost impossible to climb up that thing even without hauling thirty pounds of gear on your back! What about Cypress Creek?" Jack asked.

"Cypress Creek is for pussies." Brett spat back, "We're doing it. And you're coming."

Jack's eyes slowly moved from the ground up to Brett's, their eyes meeting. "Trust." The word kept repeating itself in Jack's mind. After last night's episode, the word took on a whole new meaning.

"All right. Let's do it." Jack said, with an adventurous air.

-----

They set off through the thick woods. It was four miles of uphill trekking before they reached the base of Falcon Peak. Soon, Jack noticed beads of drizzle gathering on his windbreaker. Overhead, storm clouds were darkening the sky.

The rocks along the trail were slick from the rain. Brett slipped on a loose slab of rock. "Shit." he muttered, as he quickly caught his balance.

"It's getting cold, Brett." Jack said as he zipped up his windbreaker.

"Damn, you're a whiny bitch!" Brett moaned, "I'll have to do something about that... la-ter..." Brett trailed off, laughing to himself.

Jack's heart began beating faster, and it wasn't from the hike. He swallowed and laughed nervously.

Jack was following about five feet behind Brett. He looked up from the path at him, staring at his broad, bulky shoulders, chiseled, muscular arms and the way his feet expertly navigated the rough terrain. A strange feeling came over Jack. It was a feeling of warmth, of security. It wasn't sexual in nature, just reassuring and fulfilling. He never wanted the feeling to leave him. He never wanted any of this to change.

Not an hour later, they approached a tall chain link fence bearing a sign: "AREA CLOSED. KEEP OUT." in red lettering. There was no gate or point of entry to be seen.

"Not a problem." said Brett as he pulled out some wire cutters and created an opening in the fence just big enough to pass through. Once the two of them had made it through the fence, Brett folded the section of fence back into place, tying it shut with wire.

"This will be our little secret." Brett grinned at Jack.

The climb up the slick rock to the top of Falcon's Peak pushed the two to their breaking points. They had their share of cuts and scrapes by the time they heaved their backpacks to the top with their final burst of effort.

"Damn." Jack panted. "This had better be worth it."

"It will be." Brett said, "...it will be."

-----

It was getting dark. Jack surveyed the area while Brett set up camp. The rain shower had passed leaving an expanse of pristine sky. There were no nearby cities so the stars were incredibly bright. You could see the Milky Way with the naked eye. It was chilly on Falcon Peak. The temperature was down into the high 40s and the wind was really picking up. Brett had to chase down his sleeping bag on more than one occasion.

"Hey, don't bother with the tent. I want to sleep out under the stars." Jack said.

Jack turned around and noticed a dark thicket of cedar trees and a glint of metal within them.

"Hey Brett, here it is, the radio station!" he said with a sense of discovery.

"Let's see what's inside." Brett said, as he approached the door.

Jack pulled as hard as he could at the handle of the metal door. It wouldn't budge. "Maybe it's locked."

"Nah. Stand back." Brett said as he seized the handle with both of his powerful hands. He braced his feet on the damp dirt below and wrenched the door open a few inches. It made a terrible rusty groan.

"Again." Brett yanked hard at the door, which groaned sharply as it swung open enough to get inside.

-----

The room was 10' x 10' with a concrete floor and metal walls. There was a small window on the right side of the room above a desk. A sturdy wooden chair with arm rests was in the back corner near the desk.

Jack noticed a bare light bulb hanging from a cable from the ceiling. He tugged on the pullchain, not surprised that there wasn't any power.

The sun had just set behind the mountains visible from the small window. Jack was exhausted.

"I'm about to drop," Jack sighed as he sat down in the chair.

"Like hell you are." Brett sneered.

Jack sighed and glanced through the window when he noticed something very strange in its reflection. Brett was still wearing his backpack. "Damn." Jack thought to himself, "I dropped mine off the first chance I got."

All of a sudden, the pieces of the puzzle started to come together in Jack's mind. The chair, the backpack, the station. He was about to get roped up by Brett.

"Hey Brett. Bring it on, buddy." Jack said, taunting him.

"What the hell are you talking about?" Brett frowned as he pulled something out of his backpack.

"You know exactly wh- HMM! MMMPH!!!" Jack tried to yell but Brett was wrapping his mouth with a roll of black duct tape. His thick, powerful left arm was pinning him hard against the back of the sturdy chair while his right was wrapping Jack's mouth, making ten passes before tearing it off.

"That's more like it." Brett said, "You didn't think I'd want to put up with your bitching, did you?"

Brett gripped Jack's forearms and forced them down onto the armrests. He melded them to the armrests with duct tape, making twenty rounds from Jack's wrists to his elbows, pulling tightly each time.

"You're not going anywhere!" Brett said as he roughed up Jack's hair with his hand.

"And just in case you feel like running out on me..." Brett walked back to the heavy metal door, grasped the handle and hunkered down, using his entire body weight to pull it closed with a BANG. The door had a keyed deadbolt with the key still in it. He grasped the key with his powerful fingers and twisted it to the left, locking the door tight. He didn't stop though. He kept twisting the key. His arm began to shake as he clenched his teeth and twisted relentlessly. Eventually, the key broke off in the lock. Brett tossed the stub on the floor. He hadn't considered how he or his friend would get out of the station. He was in full-on tunnelvision mode now - a sort of bondage delirium that he had worked himself into. A thin layer of sweat was developing on his forearms and head now. He was breathing heavily.

"What now, punk." Brett sneered, "What NOW?!!" he punched Jack in the gut, maybe a bit too hard.

"MMMMMMPH!" Jack protested.

Brett grabbed three 50 ft lengths of rope from his backpack. He quickly subdued Jack's flailing ankles, tying them brutally tight to the legs of the chair before knotting them off five times. He moved upwards and lashed Jack's thighs to the seat bottom.

"Hey. Stop squirming, buddy." Brett forcefully grabbed Jack's cheeks and glared into his fearful eyes.

Jack was enjoying the episode, but Brett's too-much-is-never-enough style scared him a bit.

Brett pulled out some more ropes and knotted up an elaborate chest harness, securing Jack's torso tightly to the wooden chair, which creaked and groaned in protest. Jack wondered, "Did they teach him that in Eagle Scouts, too?!"

"Got some rope left over. Can't have that, can we?" Brett said, breathing heavily.

Apparently not satisfied by the quarter inch thick mass of duct tape securing Jack's arms to the chair, Brett cut the remaining 80 feet of rope into two 40 foot pieces and tied Jack's duct taped arms even tighter to the arm rests. He was brutal, pulling tightly and knotting it off every five feet or so. When he was out of rope, each of Jack's arms were secured with a mass of duct tape and rope that measured eight inches across. The whole job consisted of 25 knots.

Brett sighed and smacked Jack on the cheek playfully. "How does it feel, hmm?"

"MMMPH!" Jack protested. He could feel his internals being squeezed under the incredible pressure of Brett's expert ropework. He tried struggling but it was no use.

"Goodnight. Hope you enjoy sleeping under the stars, oh wait!" laughed Brett as he tore off three feet of duct tape. He covered Jack's eyes, wrapped it around his head two times. Using both hands, he worked the tape, sealing it around Jack's eyes so he was totally blindfolded. Brett climbed on top of the desk and swung the window upwards, climbing out and landing on the ground outside with a THUD.

-----

Brett laid down under the stars in his sleeping bag. The wind was gusty now and the temperature had dropped into the low 40s. Brett slid down deeper into his sleeping bag, which was stuffed with warm goose down. It looked like some rain clouds were moving in again.

Brett thought to himself "What I just did could be considered borderline criminal under any other circumstance. But Jack said he liked getting tied up so I pulled out all the stops. I pulled out all the stops..."

Just then, Brett had a revelation of his own. He really liked tying Jack up. The feeling of working the ropes, dominating his friend both physically and emotionally. It made him feel awesome! Brett realized he was a natural-born Top. He sighed one final time and drifted off to sleep.

-----

Brett woke up early, around 6:00, and walked up to the window of the radio station. He pulled himself effortlessly up and through the window, landing on the desk in front of his mercilessly-bound friend.

"Let's get you out now." Brett said as he began untying the multitude of knots that held Jack down. Using the serrated blade on his hunting knife, Brett cut off the thick duct tape shell holding his arms to the chair. He carefully pulled the tape off Jack's mouth and eyes. If Jack had longer hair, it would have been painful.

"Oh man. I'm gonna have to get you for that." Jack said, rubbing this arms to get the circulation going again.

Brett burst out in laughter.

-----

The following night, the two of them slept under the stars at the same site. They had never felt closer. They enjoyed the twist their friendship had taken. Rather than racking their brains trying to figure out the "why" of it, they decided to just go with it.

It was a weekend to be remembered forever. Even as they returned to Durango the next morning, then to their own homes, they felt a special bond with each other - and it would last.

THE END


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TGT88's stories
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