Sorry it took so long to get to the next part. I had to put college assignments first. But since it's the holiday season, here's my gift to you all. Hope you enjoy the next part!
"Boys, slide our judge over to the bench," Brian ordered.
One of my teammates grabbed me by my legs and dragged me in front of one of the benches in the locker room.
"It's time for our favorite contest," Brian said, walking around the circle of my teammates. "And tonight's judge is our very own Daniel Evans!"
Everyone cheered and clapped. My eyes widened. I had no idea what this contest was, but from the smiles on their faces and the pungent odor permeating my nostrils, I could already tell I didn't like it.
"You know the rules. One by one you will get a minute with our lucky judge sitting on the bench, but only a minute. As you can see, there's quite a lot of you on this team and we want to make sure Daniel gets to all of you," Brian said with a smile. "And once we get around the circle, Daniel here will get to tell us who had the 'luckiest' socks on the team."
They all laughed.
"Whoever is our lucky winner will get the grand prize... getting to take our judge home for the night!"
They cheered and clapped their hands again. I screamed into my gag, but it was useless. The rancid sweaty sock that was just moments ago on Brian's dirty foot completely stuffed my mouth, and the multiple layers of industrial strength duct tape kept it securely in place.
"Per tradition, as quarterback, I will start the evening!"
Brian stepped over me and took a seat on the bench. He looked down, and winked at me again.
"You ready, buddy?"
I moaned into my gag, but all that did was make Brian laugh. He lifted his foot that still had a yellowish looking sock on it, and slowly placed it over my nose. The smell was unimaginable. As smelly as the room was, there's nothing as powerful as having something like that directly over your nostrils. Every breath I took was Brian's foot stench, and there was nothing I could do about it.
The smell was so strong, I was forced to bite down on my gag, but that only reminded me of what was in my mouth. Every bite down on that sock released a pungent taste, weeks of sweat and foot gunk going down my throat. I was his personal washing machine, and there was no saving myself.
Every breath I took made me gag from the smell. Brian said they only got a minute each, but that was the longest minute of my life. Just when I thought it would never end, he took his foot off my nose. I took a deep breath. The room still smelled awful, but it was a welcome change to a sweaty sock right over my nose.
Lucas smiled and stepped forward. He took a seat on the bench, and rubbed his hands together.
"You thought one sock was bad? Here, try two!"
Before I could move my head or take a final breath, Lucas put both feet on my face. He was far more cruel than Brian if that was possible. He didn't just leave his feet there lazily, he moved them around, constantly keeping the smell fresh.
"How's it smell down there?"
He laughed, and slapped my puffed cheeks with his sweaty socked feet. Lucas's feet proved one thing - don't judge a book by its cover. His socks looked cleaner than Brian's, but I guess he had smelly feet in his genes because the smell somehow was significantly more pungent. I tried to break away, but the excessive amount of duct tape restraints kept me tightly in place. There was nothing I could do but wait for his minute to end. But not even that saved me.
Once he finished torturing me with his lucky socks, the next man stepped forward. It seemed like it would never end - an endless cycle of football players in their sweaty, never washed socks forcing me to smell their feet. I tried to hold my breath, but every time I did, Brian let whoever I was smelling to get an extra minute to ensure I got the scent.
I was told to take deep, audible breaths - ones that everyone could hear. I did my best, but deep breaths made me cough from the smell. No one cared, if anything they would just laugh at my misfortune. I was screwed.
One by one, they each took their minute with me. All of them were rank, but of course some were worse than others. Some of them took pity on me and made me only smell one sock, and they didn't rub it all over my face. But others, like Lucas and later Chris, were much more cruel, making me smell both and rubbing them all over my face.
In fact, Chris was so cruel, he removed his one sock, balled it up, and put it right on my nose and kept it in place with his other foot. My nostrils were on fire. I honestly thought I would vomit.
But somehow, I survived. It took nearly an hour to get through the team, including first, second, and third string players.
When the last man took his feet of my face, Brian stepped forward.
"Alright gentlemen, I think we've all endured the smell in this room long enough. It's time to decide the winner!"
He stepped over to me, kneeled down. He unwound the sticky adhesive covering the lower half of my face. I bit down on the sock in pain. The sock was in my mouth so long, I had started to grow accustomed to the salty, cheesy taste. With the tape off, he pulled the sock out. It was now completely covered in my spit. He threw it to the ground and stood back up.
"And now, the moment of truth! Daniel, the man of the hour, who is our lucky winner?"
"Brian, please just let me go!"
"I don't believe that is an acceptable answer. Do we need a second round to decide?"
"NO! NO! Please don't!"
"Then give me a winner."
I gulped, the taste of his sock still in my mouth.
"They were all bad. But, but, I don't know. I guess Lucas and Chris... and yours too."
Brian smiled. "We can't have a tie. Are you sure us three were the worst?"
"Yes, you were all the worst. Now, please Brian, let me go."
"Alright boys, I didn't want to have to do this, but it's the only way. It's time for a tie breaker round. Lucas. Chris. Step forward. I hope you boys haven't washed your cups recently either."
I should have just picked one winner, because my night was only going to get worse...