THIRTY-SIX HOURS OF HELL (MMM/MMMM) *ILLUSTRATED*

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THIRTY-SIX HOURS OF HELL (MMM/MMMM) *ILLUSTRATED*

Post by bondagefreak »

THIRTY-SIX HOURS OF HELL (MMM/M+)


With my dad gone on a two day hunting trip with his buddies and my mom spending four weeks abroad, visiting her parents in Sweden, it appeared as though I was finally gonna have the place all to myself this weekend!

Our place wasn't huge, but the moderate sized suburban house was more than roomy enough to accomodate three of my friends for a weekend sleepover.



Being seventeen and not having a job sucked, but my parents were adamant about me focusing on my grades and not getting sidetracked by a part time job during my final year of highschool.
Still, with the monthly allowance they were giving me, I had nothing to complain about.

When I told my dad I'd be inviting Joshua, Matt and Kyle over, he even gave me an extra fifty bucks and got a pack of wine coolers and soft drinks for us to chug down during his absence.

Dad's orders were simple. No booze -aside from the wine coolers- no drugs, and no girls.
The last time I was left in charge, I'd invited a few too many friends over and things had gotten a little out of hand. I wasn't about to repeat that mistake again.



Besides, me and my buddies would probably spend all weekend gaming and watching Netflix and stuff.
To be fair, we were a bit of a nerdy bunch, so the thought of getting drunk and burning the place down wasn't all that appealing to us anyways.




And so, on Friday evening I was all too happy to see my dad pack his hunting gear and pull out of the driveway.
Don't get me wrong, he was a swell guy. But ever since my mom had left to visit her parents, dad was really slacking off on the laundry and stuff.

Every day, my mum would powder his work boots and toss his socks in the hamper. But now that she wasn't there to do that, my dad's socks were getting smellier and smellier and were being casually left all over the place.


Normally that wouldn't have been an issue.
I mean, most guys do tend to litter a bit and leave their socks and undies lying around. I know I do.

But my dad's socks weren't just normal socks.
His socks STANK! Like really REALLY STANK!




On top of having these giant size 14 feet and working a job that required him to wear heavy boots all the time, the forty-six year old man also had a very severe case of athlete's foot.
And now that my mum was away for a while, no one was here to powder his boots and pick up after him!


That alone made me long for her return next week.




Anyways, Friday night was a blast!
Josh, Matt and Kyle all made it on time and the four of us stayed up late playing video games and enjoying our junk food and soda pop.

By the time things started taking a turn for the worse, we were already doomed.

Somehow, three burly masked men had managed to break inside the house without us realising it, and appeared in the living room with guns aimed at our heads.

Even though it was four against three, not one of us dared to make a move against the armed intruders.
I was scared shitless, and so were my friends.





We were immediately ordered to lie down on the carpet floor with our legs spread wide and our hands on our heads. Our cell phones were confiscated and smashed to bits, right before our eyes.

Matt screamed when he saw what they'd done to his precious iPhone11, but one of the armed robbers pointed his gun at him and told him to "shut the fuck up."


That was the last bit of freedom we were about to get over the course of the next thirty-six hours.





Even as one of the guys started ransacking the place for jewelry and electronics, the other two leather-clad men got to work bundling us up.


From the equipement they'd brought, I got the feeling they weren't expecting to deal with four of us.
But a quick tour of our basement workshop allowed one of the guys to find my dad's rather extensive cache of sturdy cotton camping rope.

We were fucked and we knew it.




First, they zip tied our limbs together.
Hands behind our backs and ankles pressed together.
They weren't using some flimsy cable ties either. These were thick, police-grade riot cuffs; the type that our feeble wrists couldn't snap.


Then the rope followed.
And it wasn't just a bit of rope...

Between the rope that they'd brought in their duffle bags and the crazy amount of rope my dad kept downstairs, there was a LOT of it to go around.




Josh was the first to be restrained.

One of the armed robbers pointed his gun at us, while the other two busily scrambled over poor Josh, taking their time and roping him up real extra good and tight.



I'll admit, at first I thought my friend was being a bit of a pussy.
He was squirming and crying out like a fuckin' girl!

It's only when Matt, who was arguably the more masculine of my friends, broke down into a series of similar yelps that I understood just how cruel and unnecessarily strict our captors were being with their ropework.



They spent about ten minutes on Josh, and by the time they were done with him, the newly christened eighteen year old was hogtied so tight that his entire body was curled up into a backwards facing ball, with his heels resting back against his elbows.



A look of panic shot across Matt's face as he too was trussed up into what could only be described as the strictest and most excruciating of hogties. I could tell from their faces that both he and Josh were in agony, but I couldn't do or say anything to help them!


As the two burly captors finally turned their attention towards me, I looked over at Kyle and couldn't help but notice how his expression of terror mirrored my own.



I was next.


TO BE CONTINUED
Last edited by bondagefreak 3 years ago, edited 12 times in total.
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Post by Mummyboi »

Excellent start as usual
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Post by Xtc »

Is this your Christmas present to the board?
They all say boxer shorts are cool,
but little Speedos always rule.
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Post by Ossassin »

Thank you for this fun little treat, I look forward to seeing how this goes
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Post by FelixSH »

They spent about ten minutes on Josh, and by the time they were done with him, the newly christened eighteen year old was hogtied so tight that his entire body was curled up into a backwards facing ball, with his heels resting back against his elbows.
My mind can't help but imagine the body to go break apart in the middle.

Nice start, looking forward for more.
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Post by cj2125 »

Nice start! Feel bad for the poor guys but looking forwards to what's to come!
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Post by MaxRoper »

It's always a delight to find other excellent piece from a master of the genre (in more ways than one).

I have to agree with Felix: That's some seriously uncomfortable roping ("...his entire body was curled up into a backwards facing ball, with his heels resting back against his elbows.")

Yipe.
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Post by mpphsox »

Awesome start. Can't wait to see what these boys are in for :)
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Post by Sockbound1234 »

Love the start of the story be interesting to see what the next part has to offer can’t wait
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Post by NeedControl »

Ooh la lah!!!!!! 🤩
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Post by Johnsnow »

Great start! Can't wait to see what's to come!
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Post by sniffingyoursocks »

Mhmmm so much in this one to love.

The dad‘s socks lying all over the place.
The dad‘s socks stinking BADLY.
The brutal hogties.
Kidnappers in leather.

And so on.

I really can‘t wait for what is next, Master.
And I‘m so flattered that this is specifically dedicated to me. Thank you, Sir @bondagefreak !
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Post by Volobond »

Love the start of the new story! I only wonder where it could be going with those rancid socks handily placed all over for convenient gagging of captives... ;)
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Post by bondagefreak »

THIRTY-SIX HOURS OF HELL - PART II
Considering the level of support you guys have shown, I've decided to give this story some room to grow by increasing it's level of detail as well as it's planned chapter count


With two prisoners restrained and a bit more than half of my dad's stash of rope left, the masked intruders had no trouble trussing me up and giving me a firsthand taste of what Josh and Matt were going through.

In a matter of minutes, their large, leather-clad hands had me bundled up so tight I couldn't even move more than a micron!


I let out a yelp of pain as my dad's thick cotton rope bit my skin and spun around my limbs in a seemingly endless embrace.

My captors weren't taking any chances. And even though they already had my wrists and ankles restrained in thick riot cuffs, they trussed me up so much and knotted me up so tight that the unbreakable, police-grade restraints became nothing more than an afterthought.


It's only when about two thirds of my body ended up being sausaged in rope that they figured I'd had enough.
And then came the hogtie...




Even though my wrists and elbows were bound up behind my back. And even though my ankles, calves, knees and thighs were wrapped up with so much rope that I could barely see my legs, the muscular burglars bent my body in a backwards facing arch and forced my legs so far back that my heels ended up rubbing against my elbows.

And that, dear reader, is how I was bound up and restrained for the entirety of the weekend.





When all that was left to deal with was Kyle, the man holding the gun sheathed his weapon and crouched down to help his friends.


They worked long and hard on poor Kyle.
And even though I was in pain and dealing with my own excruciatingly tight, rope-induced hell, the blond kid's cries really made my heart sink.

The three brutes were going absolutely crazy on him, and there was simply nothing I could do about it.

Sixteen year old Kyle was shown no mercy, and in less than five minutes he was bound up and hogtied as cruelly as the rest of us.





But wait. The torment didn't end there.
Yes, the ropework was unnecessarily tight and excessive, and yes, the four of us were quite literally moaning and groaning in pain and agony.

But little could we have known how much more dire our shared predicament was about to get.






When I saw one of the burglars rummage around in his duffle bag and saw the other two stooges walking around the place and picking stuff up from off the floor, I knew we were in trouble.

A jumbo roll of clear packing tape was fished out of the bag just in time to greet our two other captors as they returned to the living room with their respective bounties.



When both of them unloaded what they'd found and dumped the collected materials at the center room, it suddenly hit me.


Dad's socks.
They were gonna gag us with dad's socks!


The strong, cheesy fumes that instantly started filling the room up was the only warning my friends got.





Joshua was the first one to get a taste of my father's rotten stinkers.
And MAN did he get it bad.



With the three leather-clad men pretty much dogpiling the hogtied kid, it was kinda hard seeing what was going on.

One of the guys quickly grabbed a sock from the living room floor, and then I heard my friend frantically gagging and coughing.

At one point, poor Josh even managed to get a scream out.

"HELP! HEMMmmpphh!" came his rather desperate-sounding protest.

His screams were promptly drowned out when the sock was pushed in between his lips.
And that was the end for Josh.




Oh don't get me wrong. He was still coughing and yelling like CRAZY behind his gag.
It's just that overall his screams were now much, much quieter.




After almost a whole minute of what appeared to be some forceful stuffing, one of the kidnappers turned around and grabbed another sock from the carpet floor.
And much to my friend's dismay, I immediately recognised it for what it was.



It was my father's BIG, black Puma sock.
A mighty thick sock to say the least.






Image





"Uggh, man! This thing fuckin' reeks!" I heard one of the men complain as he picked up the sock and disdainfully pulled it away from his face.

"Who gives a fuck? Just hurry up and shove it in his mouth!" one of his colleagues immediately barked.




A series of distressed and heavily muffled screams hit my ears as poor Josh's mouth was forcibly overstuffed.
I had absolutely no idea how they got my dad's jumbo tube sock in, especially considering there was another sock stuffed in there as well...but they did.

Joshua's mouth was stuffed to bursting, and my friend's inability to close his fiercely stretched lips left little doubt as to what was holding his orifice hostage.




The familiar high pitched screeching sound of clear packing tape filled the living room as it was unleashed upon my helpless friend mouth and face.

Kyle, Matt and I watched as the three armed robbers wrapped the crinkly tape more than fifteen times around poor Joshua's head.

We looked on, mesmerised and struck with fear at the sheer brutality of it all.



When the men severed the tape and finally left Josh's position, I stole a look at my newly gagged friend's face and could actually make out the Puma logo through the numerous layers of clear plastic tape that covered his face and lips.




There was absolutely nothing funny or humorous about our predicament.

But in hindsight, it was actually fitting for Josh to be at the receiving end of such a large, incapacitating gag.
After all, he was the most talkative of our group. And knowing him like I did, he would've probably been the first to start complaining about my dad's socks and how they were really beginning to stink the room up.



The first sock they'd stuffed in his mouth would've probably been enough to keep the eighteen year old nerd nice and quiet. But with my father's fat Puma sock now stuffed in there as well, the poor kid REALLY wasn't gonna be getting a word out any time soon.


At least that was a plus.
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Post by Gagfan »

These burglars are my kind of people, anyone would be lucky to be paid a visit by them
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Post by beserkade12 »

Wow, what a great story! Love the strict hogties. Can’t wait to read more.
If bondage is a cake then a gag is the icing ⛓
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Post by bondagefreak »

THIRTY-SIX HOURS OF HELL - PART III


With poor Joshua taken care of and personally kept quiet via my own dad's heavily worn socks, the burly trio quickly turned their attention to the second kid on their list; Matt.

By the end of the ordeal, I'm certain Joshua, Kyle and myself would've had you believing otherwise...but Matt's gag had the unfortunate particularity of probably being the smelliest.

When the masked intruders grabbed a pair of socks from off the floor and crouched down around their newest victim, my heart immediately sank at the realisation of what my friend would be dealing with.


That's right.
Poor Matt would have the distinct honour of dealing with my father's putrid, eleven-day old black dress socks.
The very same pair that had been discarded and forgotten on his bedroom floor since the end of last week.



Image



By that point, Matt must've already known he was gonna be gagged with a pair of socks. So it must've been the smell of them that suddenly caused him to scream and lose his level of composure.
Of course, he had no idea who's socks those were. None of my friends did.
But considering how horrifyingly strong, raunchy and rotten they smelled, I couldn't really blame him for reacting the way he did.

I would've probably done the same.





Too absorbed by the uncompromising size and foul taste of his own gag, poor Joshua didn't appear the least bit concerned about his friend's fate.

The eighteen year old was trapped in his own world, lost in his own personal hell, as it were.
I could tell just from looking at his face that he was now very far removed from what was happening around him.



He wasn't able to cope with the size of his gag and he wasn't able to deal with the taste and smell of my dad's extremely revolting foot odour.
Even so, the tape around his mouth prevented him from refusing the moldy, bacteria-infested stuffing, and literally forced him to deal with something he wasn't able to cope with.


Joshua was trapped in a world of pain, and his eyes betrayed the sheer level of shock and confusion he was experiencing at the moment.
Bound up and restrained hopelessly tight, the poor lad was quite literally left chewing and sucking on my dad's incredibly PUTRID socks. And there was absolutely NOTHING he could do about it!


It was a fate we'd ALL be sharing in before the night was over.






Instead of attempting to call out for help like poor Josh had, seventeen year old Matt decided to clamp his mouth shut and bar his teeth tight to avoid the incoming wad. A valiant effort, if ever there was one.

However, the one thing Matt didn't account for was the smell.


By keeping his mouth shut and attempting to refuse entry past his lips, the poor boy was forced to take a whiff of my father's rotten, eleven-day old stinkers. Something he would quickly come to regret.

As the enormous bundle of sickeningly pungent dress socks was pushed up against his face, the struggling teen was eventually forced to draw breath and take some air in through his nostrils.
BIG mistake.



The instant he flared his nostrils inside my dad's filthy-rotten stinkers, it was game over for Matt.

An expression of sheer terror crossed his face, and in the second that followed his unfortunate misstep, I watched as he narrowed his eyes down on the massive bundle of smothering cloth, and then watched as he let out the most heart-wrenching, DESPERATE scream for help I'd ever heard.




Much like Joshua, Matt was unable to cope with the extreme foulness of my dad's revoltingly powerful foot odour.
The thought of spending another second in the company of those giant, cheesy, bacteria-infested wads drove my friend bonkers and made him wanna puke the contents of his stomach out.


Unfortunately for him, our three captors were less than accommodating.

Matt barely managed to get a single syllable out before his screaming orifice was forcefully defeated by the wadding.


My dad's eleven day old socks were forced into the boy's mouth, and I watched as his lips and cheeks bulged out in an effort to contain the rather massive stuffing.

As soon as the extremely foul-smelling dress socks were in, the kid's mouth was taped shut and the leather-clad burglars proceeded to wrap their victim's face up as excessively as they had Josh's.

No more talking for Matt.






When finally the masked men stood up and turned their attention towards me, I tried a different strategy and willingly opened my mouth as wide as possible, hoping it would earn me some small bit of leniency.




It didn't.

While my gag was perhaps not quite as big as Josh's and perhaps not quite as foul-smelling as Matt's, it was definitely the spongiest, moldiest and cheesiest of the three.

That's right.
I also got a pair of my father's filthy dress socks, but these hadn't spent a week drying up and collecting dust on the floor. Quite the opposite.

My dad's week-old socks had been peeled off his feet mere hours ago, only minutes preceding his departure.

They were fresh-off-the-foot and still damp and moldy from having been worn inside his work boots all day and all week.




Image




The socks smelled of fermenting cheese and vinegar, but the merciless intruders just didn't care.
They snatched the pair of festering dress socks from off the floor and crouched down over my face with the intent of feeding me my own dad's pungent work socks.

And feed them to me, they did!




My cheeks bulged and my lips struggled to cope with the length and width of my father's first sock.
Even alone it would've been a very formidable gag.

My captor's weren't quite as rough with me as they'd been with my two friends, which was probably due to the fact that I was doing my best to cooperate with their plans. But even so, I wasn't really given any time to get used to my dad's huge sock, and was almost immediately presented with the second one.


"Mmmpphh...mmpph uuggghmph!" I protested, attempting to let my captor's know how pointless my efforts to call for help already were. For all intents and purposes, that sock alone would've been more than enough to stop me from getting a single word out.

But the leather-clad brutes would have none of it.

My mouth was pried open, and my dad's second putrid sock was thrust in on top of the first.



I coughed, choked and gagged as the first sock was pushed deeper towards the back of my throat.
I tried stretching my lips out, but the stupid socks were simply too fuckin' large!

I screamed, desperately wanting to let my captors know I couldn't cope with my father's two socks.
But they wouldn't listen.



I mouthed off inside my dad's raunchy stinkers and tried calling for help, but even more material was pressed in.



Overwhelmed by the size, taste and smell of the socks I was being fed, I barely registered having the tape slapped over my cheeks and barely recall them wrapping my face up and sealing my gag in.

It's only when they severed the tape and got up to focus on their remaining victim that I finally understood what Josh and Matt were going through.




For years now, the severity of my dad's athlete's foot and the revolting fumes escaping from his footwear had been a constant nuisance.

But now that I was cruelly trussed up and left in an uncompromisingly severe hogtie, dad's incredibly PUTRID, festering, cheese-infested stinkers weren't just a nuisance anymore. They were in my MOUTH!

"Uugggghhhhmph!"
Last edited by bondagefreak 3 years ago, edited 1 time in total.
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Post by Sockbound1234 »

Love the sock gag getting stuffed in the victims mouth can’t wait to read more it’s interesting so far well done @bondagefreak
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Post by GoBucks »

Love this story so far! These boys don't know how good they have it, getting those rotten dress socks in their mouths!

Glad you decided to make it longer than 3 parts. The more of your stories, the better!
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Post by Msueta@2 »

I love this story can't wait to read the next chapter
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Post by puffalover »

Damn bro! Awesome story so far. The length you go to in describing how awful smelling and nasty the sock gags are is so great. Really get a feel for how bad these boys have it right now. Can’t wait to see what else is in store for these poor guys.
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Post by bondagefreak »

THIRTY-SIX HOURS OF HELL - PART IV


Much like Josh and poor Matt had been just a few minutes earlier, I was now too concerned with my own predicament to pay Kyle's fate much attention.



My mouth was full to bursting on dad's big, seven-day old dress socks. And the taste of them was so incredibly strong and cheesy that all I wanted to do was puke my guts out.




Kyle must've been absolutely TERRIFIED at the prospect of being gagged like we were.
His feeling didn't really matter though.

In the minutes that followed, the young man's mouth was forcibly stuffed.
However, his predicament actually ended up being a little different than ours.



I don't know for sure whether or not you could quality his gag as being the worst of the bunch, but it was definitely the most humiliating of the three!


Apparently, worn socks weren't the only thing that our masked captors had collected off of my dad's bedroom floor. It took a while for me to realise that one of them had just snatched something different from the pile at the center of the living room.



The brutish trio quickly subdued the struggling teen, pried his jaw open with their big, gloved hands, and forced the giant, muffling cloth into my poor friend's protesting mouth.

Kyle was hogtied less than two meters away from me, yet by the time they were done with him, I could barely hear his heart-wrenching pleas for mercy.
Whatever they'd stuffed inside his mouth, it must've been big.




It's only when one of the men got up to grab the roll of tape that I saw my struggling friend's tear-lined face.
His mouth was STUFFED and his cheeks were FULL to bursting.

That's when I realised what they'd stuffed his mouth with.
Poor Kyle was quite literally gagging and choking on my dad's HUGE, musky old boxers.




Image




The near entirety of my father's briefs were buried inside my blond friend's mouth, leaving only the telltale Calvin Klein waistband sticking out past his bulging lips.

Even worse, from the position of the waistband, it looked as though the briefs had been turned inside out!

I watched as Kyle coughed and gagged on my dad's pube-filled cotton boxers, and could only IMAGINE the foul smells and tastes he must've been picking up in there.



Powerless to do anything, I was forced to look on as the burly intruders wrapped the struggling teen's face up, quickly putting an end to his pathetic screams and whimpers.




And there you have it.
With the four of us trussed up and out of the way, the armed intruders were free to roam around with impunity and search the house from top to bottom.
And that's exactly what they did.


We were offered no form of apology as they left. Not even a parting sympathetic glance. Nothing.
The burglars ransacked the place and then departed without saying a single word, leaving all four of us in excruciatingly tight hogties and with no way to call for help or alert the neighbours.





We spent the first ten minutes or so, focusing on our bonds and doing our very best to break free.
We struggled against the knots and fought against the maddeningly restrictive ropework, but all of it was in vain.

As valiant as they were, our efforts amounted to nothing.

In the end, not one of us had managed to loosen a single knot, and not one of us had managed to wiggle around more than a centimeter or two in any direction.





That's when the frustration started setting in, and that's when we REALLY started focusing on our gags.

Our thirty-six hours of hell had just begun.
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Post by NeedControl »

Ahh yes, now the real fun begins!! What deviousness will come next? No clue, but I'm excited to find out!!
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Post by bondagefreak »

THIRTY-SIX HOURS OF HELL - PART V


With the illusion of escape growing fainter with each passing moment, the severity of our predicament slowly began to sink in.


We struggled and fought and screamed, but no matter how hard we tried to escape, the excessively tight ropework just wouldn't give.

We were stuck!
And worst of all, the armed intruders had used my own dad's worn socks and boxers to make sure my friends and I couldn't call for help. "Uggghhh!"



As the minutes went by, our combined grunting and moaning became louder and more desperate.
I could barely cope with my own gag, but as I looked around the room through my tear-filled eyes, I couldn't help but notice the shared expressions of distress of my friends faces.


I don't know why, but I felt sorta responsible for what they were going through.
They were my guests. I'd invited them over.
And now they were trussed up and being forced to suck and chew on my dad's absolutely PUTRID socks and boxers.

I felt terrible about it.


You should've seen them!
Between myself and my three buddies, I really couldn't decide who had it worst.




Joshua was quite literally choking on his gag.
The eighteen year old's eyes were glazed over with tears as he struggled to cope with the monstrously fat Puma sock lodged in his mouth...not to mention the other sock stuffed behind it as well.

I couldn't speak for the mystery sock, but the Puma sock was extremely pungent and smelled real strong of my dad's foot cheese. I knew that 'cause the one that WASN'T in Josh's mouth was still crumpled up on the living room floor, less than a meter or so away from my face.

The fumes coming out of that thing made my toes curl up, and apparently the taste of it wasn't sitting well with Josh either.


Okay, so yeah. Joshua had it bad. But it's not as though Matt had it any better either.

From the strong stench that had been permeating my dad's bedroom this past week, I knew that Matt's gag was the smelliest out of the four.
Those giant, eleven-day old dress socks he was sucking on were putrid beyond belief. And I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that I'd be choking on my own vomit right now had they been buried inside my mouth.


One look at Matt's sweaty face confirmed what I already knew.
The kid was on the verge of puking and looked a little pale and green even.

He screamed and fought to the bitter end, but my father's big, fat dress socks made short work of his mouthy protests.

It was a hopeless cause.
My friend could scream, groan, moan and cry out to his heart's desire, but he wouldn't be getting a PEEP out past my father's rotten stinkers.




I turned my attention to poor Kyle and watched as he tried to shake his head and push out the massive wad of cloth that had been jammed between his lips.

All he ended up doing though, was tasting my dad's butt and getting more pubes down his parched throat.
Man, Kyle had it really bad as well.

True, he wasn't sucking on my father's nausea-inducing athlete's foot.
But even so, his gag couldn't have tasted very good either.



Not only were those boxers twice the size of my friend's head, but from having seen my dad wear them on and off this week, I knew that they had to be really fuckin' musky.

It didn't help that my dad had a really big butt and a massive pair of thighs.
And like most of the undies he ended up tossing in the hamper, the giant Calvins inside Kyle's mouth were probably filled with a bunch of thick pubes and curly butt hairs.
My dad was very hairy down there.


Even worse was the fact that my poor friend was sucking on them inside out, meaning that on top of dealing with dad's pubes, he was also tasting and smelling the grown man's balls, butt and gooch.




Unable to cope with the muskiness of his gag, the struggling teen shook his head in disgust and tried voicing out a series of desperate protests.

I offered the lad a sympathetic look and tried to talk to him through my gag.
That's when I ended up nearly being sick from the taste of my own, excessively generous wadding.



"Uuggghhmmm!" I cried out, squinting my eyes tight and crinkling my nose up as dad's extreme foot stench assaulted my senses.
His seven day old, sweat-soaked bundles tasted like a mixture of stale bread, vinegar and rotting milk.


I shook my head repeatedly and tried freeing my tongue from underneath the massive stuffing.
All of it, to no avail.


"Mmmmgggghh!" I screamed, no longer able to cope with my father's rotten foot cheese.




As the minutes went by, I grew more and more desperate.
The overly-tight ropework was causing my body to ache and my dad's incredibly putrid stinkers was making my stomach churn.

I wanted out.
We all wanted out.




The hours that followed were probably the longest hours of my life.
My friends and I tried encouraging each other and coordinating our efforts, but dad's enormous, muffling wads kept our mouths in check.
There was NO talking allowed.



And so we spent Friday night, Saturday and most of Sunday, crying out, coughing, struggling and sucking on our huge gags.


Dad was gonna have the surprise of his life when he arrived home and found us all tightly bundled up and gagged.
But until then, my friends and I would have no choice but to stay put and chew on his super fat, ridiculously smelly socks and boxers.

And that's exactly what we did.
"Uugggmmph!"


THE END
Last edited by bondagefreak 3 years ago, edited 6 times in total.
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GoBucks
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Joined: 5 years ago

Post by GoBucks »

That was a wonderful holiday gift! So descriptive, very hot!

Thank you, [mention]bondagefreak[/mention]!
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