Chapter 7 - Donovan's Arrival
I can't even begin to comprehend the level of fear conveyed by Ryan's expression when his older brother walked in the room.
The huge, brown-haired, handsome, 20 year old jock walked in the room with a cocky smirk on his face.
From the evil spark in his eyes and the fact that he was holding his phone in one hand, it was obvious that Mitch had let him in on our little predicament.
The jock was literally DRENCHED in sweat, wearing only his basketball shorts and his beat up pair of old Osiris sneakers.
With his sports bag and wet t-shirt slung over his shoulder, Ryan and I got a good view of the muscular hunk's broad, sweaty torso.
Don' must've easily weighed 100 kilograms, closing in on twice my weight.
His arms were as thick as my thighs and his muscular chest and shoulders were practically twice as broad as mine.
This guy was our high school's most feared bully.
His size, good looks and the fact that he was a few months older than most of his classmates, earned him even more fear and respect than the other jocks in school.
Don wasn't often at home when Ryan and I were hanging out.
But when he was, we stayed out of his way and he usually ignored us.
This time would be different though.
We were tied up and gagged in the big bully's smelly bedroom and Mitch had undoubtedly filled his oldest son up on what we'd done to poor Tom earlier today.
To make things worst, Don often teamed up with his youngest brother and both of them would pick on Ryan.
I was an only child, but from what I understood of family dynamics, oldest and youngest teaming up and picking on the middle sibling was actually something pretty common.
Don would make Ryan pay for what we'd done to his younger brother...and he'd make me pay as well.
The room was already dark and smelly, but it only got worst when Don walked in, closed the door, opened the ceiling light and closed his bedroom window shut.
Ryan and I could already pick up the strong musk emanating from the older jock's body as he casually tossed his phone and gym bag on the messy bed.
There was stuff everywhere on the floor; old socks, compressions shorts, t-shirts, dirty jockstraps, singlets, crusty-looking briefs....you name it.
From what I could tell, this big, sweaty hunk wasn't keen on cleaning up or putting his dirty clothes in the laundry basket.
The room was small, but still big enough for a large bed, a big TV, a PS4 and loads of sports equipment and other trinkets.
Ryan cried out in his gag, but Don ignored him and slowly walked around our chairs, checking out his dad's handiwork.
"Not bad..." he mumbled, after a minute of quiet contemplation.
"So....looks like you boys need to be babysat for the rest of the day." the jock spoke, ruffling our hair up with his big, sweaty hands.
Beads of sweat were dripping down from his forehead and his big, smooth pecs were still heaving, his body still recovering from a long basketball practice.
"We'll have lots of fun together, broski." he chuckled, tapping Ryan's cheek, 'causing his younger sibling to bark in frustration.
"As for you, Jake-o..." he said, turning his attention to me and intentionally messing up my name, looks like you'll be sleeping over tonight."
I looked up at him questioningly.
Surely my dad would want me home not too late tonight.
Unless he and Mitch had already worked something out?!
Shit! I was screwed.
I gave the jock my best puppy eyes and whimpered in my gag, desperately hoping to gain his sympathy.
"What's wrong, boy? You wanna say something?" he asked, crouching down in front of me and giving me an almost-sympathetic look.
"Mhhmmmggh....mmgugghgphhff." I pleased. begging the big, muscular jock with my eyes.
"If you have something to say, you really need to speak up, boy." he smirked. "I can't understand you when you're mumbling like that." he teased.
"Mmmhhhuuugghmm....mmggpphhh....mmhhguuupphh" I pleaded again.
Don's look of sympathy melted away and was quickly replaced with a cocky grin.
"Yeah...looks like my dad stuffed your mouth up real good, kid." he laughed, before getting up and putting his hand on my head.
"What about you, punk?" he said, turning his attention back to Ryan before ruffling his hair up in a demeaning manner.
"You havin' fun chewing on daddy's big old smelly sock?" he asked, more for his own amusement than anything else.
Ryan was furious.
He tried screaming, but barely any sound came out, so tightly stuffed his mouth was.
"Yeah, you're having fun alright..." Don chuckled, tapping his brother's cheek lightly.
Hearing Donovan tease his brother about the fact that he was chewing on his own dad's raunchy old sock, made me want to puke,
The big sock tasted of old rotten cheese and vinegar. It was all damp and since Mitch had peeled it off his foot and stuffed in it my mouth, inside out...all the dirty sock lint and toe jam was spilling out and sticking to my tongue and palate.
The sock tasted so strong and so bad, but it was so big and thick, that even though it was riddled with holes, it literally filled my mouth and cheeks up to bursting!
Mitch's big, old, cheesy sock kept me from crying out, talking, pleading or calling for help and the industrial-grade duct taped wrapped around my jaw, mouth and lower face made sure the sock remained stuffed in.
Mitch had really done quite a number on us.
Last edited by bondagefreak
on Mon Dec 18, 2017 11:51 pm, edited 2 times in total.