I wasn't too sure about this at first, but having my 16-year-old stepbrother and his mum move in with my dad and I was actually pretty cool.
Being a naturally dominant guy and being endowed with a powerful physique, I'd always enjoyed playfully fooling around with little guys, and as such, always wished I had a baby brother to take care of and protect.
Little Zakky and I weren't related by blood, but that didn't matter.
His mum and my dad were serious about being together, so that was good enough for me.
Stepbrother or not, he was the closest thing I'd ever have to a younger sibling.
I any case, this story isn't about me, or my appreciation for serious ropework and the like.
It's about my baby brother and his infatuation for socks. More specifically, worn socks.
As the months went by and the little guy got acquainted with my friends and some of the gym buddies I occasionally brought home to game with, I quickly discovered that his attraction to footwear didn't only include socks. Zakky didn't tell me any of this at first. But after catching him in the act of sniffing my dad's raunchy boots and sniffing one of my guest's running shoes, I eventually confronted the kid and got him to spill his beans out in front of me.
I wasn't overly cruel about it though.
Recognising that he was currently in his most difficult years of high school, facing rigorous societal norms and slowly emerging into adulthood, I knew that coming to terms with this infatuation he had must not've been easy. Zakky pretty much confirmed what I suspected, and I felt almost bad for having confronted him about it.
Like a lot of growing teens his age, his first instinct was to try and suppress his feelings and desires. But as time went by and the strange urges continued to grow and consume his every thought, fighting against the gift he'd been given became an increasingly monumental task.
And so he confessed, and as his big bro, I made it my personal duty to keep it a secret and avoid making fun of him over what he'd just told me. Anyways, considering all the weird things people are into nowadays, having a secret thing for feet and socks wasn't all that strange or bizarre. Seriously, he wasn't the only guy I knew who was into this stuff.
Zakky and I continued growing closer and closer, until one night, he awkwardly admitted having a rather important crush one of the gym buddies I sometimes brought home after my workouts. Matthew was this guy's name.
Matthew, or Matt as I sometimes called him, was a relatively short, 21-year-old athletic guy.
He was an all around very easy going bloke compared to most of the studs I regularly worked out with, but he was generally a lot of fun to be around. I could definitely see why my little bro had a secret thing for the guy. Matthew wasn't the tallest guy around, but he was very serious about body-building and had a mighty handsome face to go with his great physique. Definitely a head-turner if ever there was one.
It took me a while to figure out what to do about my little bro having a crush on one the guys I regularly worked out with, but after a few weeks of casual plotting and the knowledge that I'd soon be placed in charge of babysitting Zakky for an entire weekend, a quirky plan eventually cemented itself in my head.
I was gonna give my teenage brother the surprise of his life.
He was still a good eight months away from his 17th birthday, but what I had in mind for him was just too good to wait.
So when the weekend where both our parents had planned a little romantic getaway came, I was given free reign over the house and promptly told Matthew to come hang out with me as soon as his gym workout was over.
Now Zakky was a nerdy kid, and as usual, he did his own thing; which usually consisted of reading, studying or playing video games.
When Matthew made it to our place, I was rather quick to pop open a few beers and get the afternoon started by inviting my friend to game with me on living room PS4.
We laughed, fooled around and had the same amount of fun as we usually did.
But when Zakky failed to come out of his bedroom even after a whole hour of his secret crush being here, I quickly put my plan into action and dragged the kid outta there, whilst at the same time promising him we were gonna have a bit of fun together.
Matthew wasn't into the whole "tying up other guys" thing, but he nevertheless proved himself quite instrumental in pinning my scrawny stepbrother's squirmy little form to the floor whilst I fetched my huge rope collection and began the arduous task of bundling the little guy up.
Not being a particularly combative lad, Zakky didn't offer us much resistance. Which was somewhat understandable considering he had the stocky, dark-haired bodybuilding practically sitting on his back.
The slippery lad did try squirming around and complaining a bit, but my knots made short work of his struggles, and the kid eventually resigned to simply asking me why he was being tied up so tight.
This wasn't the first he'd fallen prey to my knots, mind you.
And as usual, I supplied him with a rather outrageous reason as to why he needed to be dragged out of his room and restrained like this.
"I'm supposed to be babysitting you, but I can't really babysit you if I can't see you, can I?" I asked, a question that caused the grouchy little teen-runt to growl and protest.
"Sorry Zakky. My dad was adamant about me keeping a close eye on you." I told him. "Orders are orders, kiddo. Now Matthew and I are gonna spend the rest of the day gaming here, and I need to make sure you stay well within my sights. That way you won't end up getting into any trouble or anything."
Zakky growled and groaned upon hearing those words.
"But I never get into trouble!" he cried out, which in fact, was a statement I couldn't possibly refute.
"I know, kiddo. You're a good guy. I just need to make sure you stay safe and outta harm's way." I chuckled, causing the grumpy little bugger to moan and groan with renewed zeal.
The kid knew better than to try reasoning with me, and eventually just resigned to lying there in relative silence.
I spent the better part of twenty minutes roping his limbs up and trussing his scrawny little body into what can only be described as an excruciatingly tight hogtie. Matthew said very little during the lengthy tying up process, but kept his eyes peeled on my knots and watched the scene unfold with great interest.
Had I known him the way I know him today, I would've gladly agreed to truss him up the same way I was trussing up my baby brother. But that would be a story for another time.
Matthew remained a somewhat distant participant in the power struggle that ensued between my brother and I, but his role in all this would quickly become apparent, to both himself and to sixteen-year-old Zakky as well.
Little Zakky complained about the strictness of my ropework, but that didn't stop me from triple-knotting all the knots down and telling him he'd be stuck like this the entire weekend unless he found a way outta my ropes.
Of course, I wasn't gonna leave the poor kid trussed up all weekend, but the look on his face was quite literally priceless upon hearing those words come outta my mouth.
In any case, given my habit of going wildly overboard with rope, and given how more tight and strict the hogtie I'd imposed upon him was, I knew that my prisoner wouldn't be going anywhere anytime soon.
Even if he had the rest of his life to try and escape from my knots, there was absolutely no way in hell he would've been able to work his way outta that hogtie. Not with half of his body constricted beneath countless coils of thick rope, and not with the back of his heels pressed all the way up against his hopelessly restrained elbows!
Nope. There'd be no escape for the little guy.
I spent the next ten minutes or so, making fun of my little prisoner; taunting him, threatening to leave him like that until tomorrow night, and occasionally taking things a little further and digging my fingers into his defenceless socked soles.
Matthew was definitely amused by the spectacle Zakky and I were putting. But stocky, young muscleman remained true to his passive self and appeared quite content with just sitting on the couch and watching from the sidelines.
"Haha. Yeah, looks like you won't be goin' anywhere any time soon, eh kiddo?" I teased, causing our captive little teen-runt to growl defiantly.
Unfortunately for Zakky, his protests only served to add fuel to the fire, and I happily responded to his frustrated groaning by wiggling my fingers in front of his face and digging them into his perfectly helpless, puny socked soles.
"Coochy-coochy-coo!" I giggled, immediately sending the lad into a frenzy and causing him to cry out and laugh uncontrollably.
"Alright, Zakky-boy. I'm gonna give you a little break from the tickling." I told him. "Now I know you like your alone time, so Matthew and I are gonna sit on the couch and game for a few hours while you try and figure a way outta this mess. But before we get on with our gaming marathon, I think you're due for the finishing touch. We can't really have you screaming and causing mischief now, can we?"
"But...but I'm already tied up like crazy. This is too fuckin' tight! What d'you mean finishing touch?!" the kid naively cried out, groaning from the tightness of his predicament and employing some uncharacteristically colourful language in doing so.
I laughed at the genuineness of his complaint and chuckled at the sheer innocence of his question.
Even though I'd given the smart lad a hint as to what would happen next, he remained virtually clueless as to what I meant by "finishing touch"; a fact that would make it's application all the sweeter.
"What's he missing, Matthew? Tell him." I told my friend, causing the young beefcake to sorta laugh and roll his eyes up.
He knew the answer to my little riddle, but for some reason, he seemed almost embarrassed to suggest it.
"He needs a gag." Matt finally spoke.
"Ding, ding, ding! We have a winner!" I immediately cried out, ruffling my frustrated prisoner's hair up and laughing my ass off at the fact that he was sporting such a confused expression on his face.
"A gag?!" he asked, the sheer worry and disbelief in his voice practically causing my heart to bleed a little.
Poor kid. He did fall prey to my knots a few times, but he'd never actually been gagged before.
He knew what the word meant, but the concept behind it was still somewhat vague and foreign to him at this point.
"Yes, kiddo. A gag."
Little Zakky's eyes went wide after receiving confirmation that he'd heard correctly. His next reaction was characterised by a rather frantic and very valiant attempt at defeating my knots. He tried to escape, but his failure at getting anything done beyond wiggling his toes and moving his finger caused another string of rather profane words to escape his lips.
"That'll be quite enough from you little man." I scolded. "You know the rules in this house. My dad doesn't allow any cussing, and neither do I."
Poor Zakky moaned and groaned about the unrelenting strictness of my knots, but I paid his pleas little attention.
"Alright, time to get our prisoner gagged up before he gets too cranky." I joked, something which caused the kid to immediately cry out and redouble his efforts.
This is where Matthew's role finally comes to the fore.
"Hey, buddy. Got anything we could use keep this little guy quiet?" I asked, causing the stocky muscle-jock to lift an eyebrow and give me a rather quizzical look. With him being my guest and all, he was probably wondering why the hell I was asking him if he had anything to silence Zakky's mouth with.
"Uhh...no. I don't think so." he answered, speaking to me as though his answer should've been obvious.
"You sure, bro? What d'you got in your gym bag?" I pressed.
"Uhmm...nothing much. Just my towel, running shorts, some old socks and my water bottle." Matt responded, clearly not following my line of questioning.
"Cool. Let's see those socks!" I excitedly cheered.
"What? Why?" the handsome bodybuilding nervously blurted out, the tone of his voice leading me to believe that he was both confused and a little horrified at the fact that I wanted to see the ratty old gym socks he kept in his bag.
I calmly repeated my request, and a few seconds later, a victorious smile draped itself across my face as I watched my friend pull out a pair of rather dingy-looking ankle socks from the clutter of his Nike gym bag.
The socks were moldy, ripe and crumpled up. And Matt was visibly unnerved and embarrassed at the fact that he was being coerced into showcasing them.
"Haha! Holy fuck, dude!" I chuckled, ignoring my own rule about the use of foul language and casually ordering the young beefcake to toss his crummy wads my way.
Matthew clearly didn't understand where I was heading with this, but one look at my baby brother's smitten face confirmed that at least one of the guys in this room had begun to see my mastermind plan of mine for what it truly was.
Poor Zakky was caught somewhere between paradise and hell, at that point.
His Christmas had come early this year. But the expression he wore on his face left little doubt as to the internal struggle that raged within him.
I caught my embarrassed gym buddy's socks mid-flight, and suddenly found myself questioning whether or not I'd actually be doing my little sock-loving brother a favour by cramming Matt's filthy stench-bundles inside his mouth.
*Sigh*
Only one way to find out!