Beach Volleyball (f+/m+)

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Beach Volleyball (f+/m+)

Postby infmed88 » Sat Jul 25, 2015 4:17 pm

This is a fictional piece I put together, hope some of you like it. I'm pretty sure I'm right below 3000 words, so hopefully I didn't disqualify myself.

Seventeen year old Jack had been brimming with excitement at the beginning of the summer “training” vacation both the boys’ and girls’ volleyball teams were on. Every year the coaches and chaperones spent more time in the casinos than with their teen charges, and every year the girls would challenge the boys to a pride match, if for no other reason than to justify calling it a training vacation in the first place. But with this year’s pride being of particular importance to his rival, Jack now found himself totally trussed in brown rope and his board shorts, glaring up in a mix of shock and anger at the seventeen year old brunette standing over him wearing beach shorts that clung to her thighs and a zippered pink/black spandex jacket.

“Stacey!? What do you think you’re doing!?”

Any further words of protest became smothered by the bare foot now planted over his mouth, “You mean besides settling things once and for all?”


Stacey casually tugged at her tight shorts, brushing the sand from her shoulders left over from their tousle on the beach. With rope tightly wound in random patterns all across his body, Jack could do little other than pat his hands frantically at this sides as he bucked and strained to pull his head free. With every minute of writhing, Jack’s defiant grunts grew louder, egged on by the look of smug satisfaction the talkative girl wore as she wiggled her toes over his face, the sole of her foot keeping her long time enemy silent.

“I’d say this means I win, don’t you think?”


Jack’s angry green eyes jumped between his rivals foot over his mouth to the surrounding shoreline, hoping other members of his team would be nearby. But with the beach mostly empty this early in the day, it was clear nobody would be coming to his rescue. Stacey’s painted toes pressed against his face, the muffled sounds of frustration fueling the girl’s smugness, speaking loudly over the sounds of the boys’ bound captain struggling to talk around her foot.

“What do you think your teammates are going to say when they find out you let a girl tie you up?”


“Gosh, how embarrassing would it be if they all saw you squirming around on the ground?


The boy arched his back and shifted his hips, still refusing to believe he had just been wrestled down and dominated so quickly. Stacey cupped a hand to her ear and leaned forward, feigning a look of puzzlement as she continued to revel in her victory with teasing remarks, “How many years have we been going at it, you think? Ten, eleven? I think this is a fitting way to end things, don’t you?”

Jack’s jaw worked up and down in a hopeless attempt at speech, his head unable to break free from his rival’s foot. Unable to twist free of the ropes pressing into his tan skin, the trussed teen grumbled indignantly into his makeshift gag while shooting daggers at Stacey with his eyes. The grinning girl pulled her roped up rival’s head back and forth with her foot, forcing the boy to nod and shake his head in accordance with her one sided dialogue, taking her chance to settle past grievances.


Hands on hips, Stacey remained fixed like a victorious statue as she smiled down at the squirming mess of boy and rope at her feet, “I already texted the other girls by the way. I figured I’d need their help, seeing as how you’re a little too tied up to do anything anymore.”


“Don’t worry, after we goad your team into a bet they can’t win, the rest of the boys will be joining you. But for now, you can just sit there and come to terms with my win.”

Angry grunts turned even louder as the dominant girl teased the boy with a playful waive of her fingers, smiling at Jack straining with every muscle in his body. Despite his constant twisting and squirming he remained hopelessly immobilized in the rope, able only to shout gagged curses at the girl who stood over him with her hands resting on canted hips. As the tangled mess of taut bindings moved with the shifting contours of his body, Jack shouted into Stacey’s foot with one more burst of energy and thrashed about in the sand. Enduring relentless mocking from his cheeky childhood rival, Jack was beginning to realize the full extent of his predicament, slumping against the sand and staring up at Stacey, letting out garbled curses while watching her absently tug at the shorts riding up her thighs.


The overly smug brunette made it a point to keep her foot firmly planted on top of Jack’s mouth, one hand remaining on her hip while the other excitedly waived her approaching friends over. Her closest friends Ashley and Haley were the first to come bounding across the sand, fingers pointing and mouths agape in amused surprise at the writhing figure beneath Stacey’s feet.

“Aren’t you going to say hi to my friends Jack?”


Jack felt his face redden deeply as the blonde Ashley stood over him laughing, the dark ponytail of Haley swaying back and forth as she shook her head in disbelief. His remaining view of the beach was quickly obscured by the legs of seven other girls, his eyes darting between their smug smiles and the bags slung over their backs. Even surrounded by unending girlish laughter, the bound and gagged teen continued to shout obscenities into his rival captain’s foot, his twitching arms and feet only adding fuel to the fire of high pitched giggles and teasing remarks.

“Come on girls, let’s get him over to the net so we can set everything up. I want everything to be perfect when the boys see their big, tough captain totally owned.”


As soon as Stacey’s foot was lifted away from his mouth, it was replaced by her hand, keeping an airtight seal over his lips as the rest of the team, clad in bikinis and short shorts, lifted him up and began carrying his contorting body across the beach. The girls cooed teasingly and mocked the sound of his muffled protests, imitating with noises of their own as they poked, prodded, and tickled. Before being unceremoniously secured up in the line judge’s chair, Stacey held her hand to her side until a balled up sock was placed in her palm. Knowing where she intended to put the sock, Jack shook his head, but was held still by an army of hands with painted nails, pinching his cheeks and prying his mouth open until the dirty sock was being packed inside.

Mmmmm. That’s it, open nice and wide. I wore this one on the plane ride over just for you! I bet that tastes so good, doesn’t it Jack,” Stacey teased as she watched piece after piece of duct tape get smoothed out over his mouth.

His jaw working tirelessly around his new gag, Jack could only tune out the squeals, giggles, and taunts as he was tied tightly to the judge’s chair. With an improved view of the entire beach, he could make out the boys’ lodgings a hundred yards away as he squirmed and jerked from side to side. Feet bound securely to the top ladder rung, Jack was powerless to stop himself from providing a lively show to the girls below when Stacey began digging her fingers into the exposed soles of his feet.


Over the course of the next hour, Jack looked on as the girls practiced for the game, their captain ceaselessly digging her fingernails into his wiggling feet as he bucked and squirmed in his chair, “So what do you think of my team? Think you boys stand any chance this year?”


Jack could scarcely breathe by the time he could make out his fellow teammates making their way towards the net, an hour later, and frantically struggled even after Stacey had relented with her tickle torture. With the girls’ captain now diligently painting the wildly wiggling toes of her captive, the rest of the team stood circled around the tower, some with arms crossed and others with hands on their hips, but all wearing smug grins on their face.

“Hey boys! We’ll be able to start in a few minutes, just need to finish making our judge all pretty.”

Jack groaned and shook his head, able to feel the eyes of his team scanning every inch of his predicament, down to his now pink toenails. No amount of chewing nor jaw working could remove the tape from his lips and sock from his mouth, forcing Jack into humiliating silence as the boys guffawed and shouted challenges back at the girls. Ignoring the frantic grunts and muffled shouts from their leader, the boys were easily pushed into a bet leaving them in Jack’s position should they lose, while a win would secure him his freedom.


The seven boys tossed their shirts aside and strode out onto the volleyball field with limitless confidence, knowing full well they would beat the girls, especially with Stacey sitting out of the game. Some of them went so far as to tease Jack over allowing himself to be dominated so thoroughly by girls, driving the rope bound boy to squirm all the more violently in his chair. With the match underway, he desperately picked at the knots keeping him pinned to his seat, angrily giving up when Stacey made her way back up the ladder and daintily seated herself atop his knees, keeping a firm grip on the arm rests with her hands. His hips pinned to the chair like the rest of his body, Jack couldn’t even pretend to make an attempt at bucking the girl off, choosing instead to shout gagged demands into her dirty sock stuffed into his mouth.

“Tsk. Tsk. Looks like your team could really use you down there captain. Maybe you should tell them their defense is sloppy?”


“Oh, right, I gagged you. Sorry, I’ll just let you watch your team get killed. I’m not blocking your view am I?”

Jack was seething with frustration and anger as Stacey cooed and teased him, laughing the score at him after every point won by the girls. With the boys being considerably outclassed, the girls managed to convince them to send a player off the field in lieu of another point going onto the board. What they didn’t see as Jack thrashed and groaned helplessly, was Stacey slink away from her perch on the tower and handgag each boy that left the game, legs kicking at the sand as each was pulled away from the distracted players and handily bound with rope and duct tape.
The boy captain strained at the ropes and looked over his shoulder, watching his brown haired friend Chris have another dirty sock packed into his mouth, eventually becoming trapped in a web of duct tape. The girls proved themselves adept at not only volleyball, but of distraction and domination as the boy’s team slowly sacrificed more players in hopes of keeping their game alive. By the end of the game, the boys needed three points to win, while the girls only needed one. Unfortunately for the boys, only two of them were now left standing, the others now rocking back and forth on their stomachs after being individually jumped and hogtied.

The dirty-blonde haired Ryan looked around for his friends curiously, just now noticing the lack of male voices shouting out. Jack worked his jaw fervently around the foul tasting gag in his mouth and attempted to shout a warning to his remaining free friends, watching hopelessly as they soon spotted one of the squirming bodies flopping about in the sand beyond the judge tower. By the time the two remaining boys charged their way over to their hogtied teammates, the rest of the girls’ team had already called it a game.

“Hey! We never finished the gmmmpphhhh!”

Jack’s shoulders sank as he watched Jacob and Ryan get tackled to the sand, every girl pitching in to keep them pinned and still as Stacey worked her knot magic. In another twenty minutes, the girls had dragged every boy out in front of Jack still twisting and grunting in his chair. All seven boys below him arched their backs and shouted into their gags, every single one becoming intimately familiar with the taste of their rivals’ dirty socks. Experiencing new types of humiliation he had never expected to at the hands of Stacey, Jack felt his face burn strawberry red as his friend Chris looked up in shamed defeat at him. The girls jumped up and down, cheering and squealing in delight at their victory over the boys squirming at their feet.


A chorus of deep voiced grunts was all the victory music the girls seemed to need as they laughed and struck poses over their tied up opponents. The odd passer by occasionally would point and laugh, sometimes taking a picture as the girls paced circles around the rope and tape bound bodies. At any one time Jack could count at least two of his friends with a girl’s foot planted over their face. Stacey would frequently turn to waive at her counterpart up in his chair, always eliciting another round of gagged shouts and aimless struggling.

“So boys,” the bikini clad Haley called out, “how do all of those socks taste!?”

The cacophony of indignant grunting and muffled protests sent the girls into another fit of laughter as the boys rolled around on the sand, their bodies pulled nearly into a bow shape with their hogties remaining as strict as ever. Climbing back up the ladder and onto his legs again, Stacey held her phone up and gleefully called for a group photo, joining her team in laughter as the boys were maneuvered into place on their backs, their hips sticking up into the air and a foot victoriously planted atop each face.

“Stop squirming around so much down there boys! You too Jack, can’t you see I’m trying to take a picture here?”


The boys helplessly wiggled around as Stacey snapped picture upon picture, stopping between each one to show her trussed up rival each humiliating image. One after another was thrust before him, showing the girls striking various victory poses over the bound and gagged boys, “Oh I like that one! Don’t you? I think it really captures how much smarter we are than all of you.”

Resigned to his unflattering defeat, Jack looked on helplessly as his friends thrashed and twisted on the ground, glaring at the girls with the same look of defiance he had held hours before. As the girls began to unpack the rest of the bags, it became clear the girls had no intention of being graceful winners. When Stacey positioned herself so that she was seated across the width of his legs, her own legs dangling off the side of the raised up chair, Jack jerked meekly under her weight and prayed for her to stop talking.

On the field below, the girls eventually grew tired of Facebooking, tweeting, snapchatting, texting, and uploading scores of vine videos of their afternoon on the beach to the internet. After only an hour the boys had been humiliated on every social media platform the girls could find, seven hogtied boys and their miserable captain proving to be as entertaining a show for anyone walking along the shores as well as anyone browsing the internet. The girls now stood at the base of the tower and shouted mock encouragements to the boys rolling around on the ground, grunting at one another to help undo the knots. All the while Stacey continued to list off the things that made her better than Jack, taking great pleasure in his silence.


“Awwww, come on boys! Show us how it’s done!”


“Or you could all just admit girls rule and maybe we’ll let you go!”



The day dragged on into late afternoon, the sun still making its way over the active beach. The girls had resumed playing volleyball, and had even picked up enough girls to make four pick-up teams. With the field in full use and growing more crowded, it would be understandable for anyone at a distance to miss the four boys rigidly bound standing back to back against the net posts. The duct tape plastered over their packed mouths sporting womanly lips drawn on with lipstick by their former opponents, and all of their wiggling toes painted a different color of the rainbow. Girls they had never met struck poses next to them for a countless number of camera phones, others still walked right past them without so much as a second glance, ignoring the muffled shouts of, “girls rule” coming from behind their gags. An occasional stray shot would send the volleyball into the side of their heads, their angry protests earning them a deafening chorus of squeals and laughter from the players surrounding them on the field.

Off the field on the sidelines, three more boys found themselves buried up to their necks in the sand, feet left exposed and sneakers taped over their mouth and noses. Ashley and Haley mercilessly dug their nails into the boys’ soles, occasionally taking a break to look over and laugh with their leader, “So, who rules Jack!?”

Similarly buried in the sand, Jack hysterically laughed into his gag as two local girls giddily tortured him. Between his buried legs lay the smug Stacey, laughing as she held a sign reading, “ONE DOLLAR FOR FIVE MINUTES OF TICKLING.”

With her sock still duct taped into his mouth and both of her feet resting gently over his face, Jack’s gagged words matched that of the boys around him as he abandoned any remaining pride he had left, “GURRMMMMMPPH RMMMPPPHHHH! GMMMPHHH RUMMMPPPHH!”

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