By SockgaggedJason

Kevin, flanked by his best friend, Matt, stormed into his own beachside apartment with purpose where he found his roommate, Flynn, in the middle of removing his motorcycle gear. Flynn had just returned from a long motorcycle ride in the mountains. He had taken off his helmet, gloves, and one of his boots when they barged in so suddenly. Flynn was still fully suited up in his motorcycle racing leathers, though. Kevin and Matt, without warning, tackled him. They had restraints ready; a collection of clothesline rope and duct tape.

Flynn didn’t put up much resistance since he shrugged it off as innocent horseplay that wouldn’t go far. He laughed but was handedly taken to the floor. They sat on top of him and pulled his hands behind his back. Kevin skillfully tied Flynn’s wrists together quickly with some of the clothesline they brought. Once they were bound, Flynn then knew it was a little more serious.

“Fuckers, this hurts!” Flynn complained.

“So, what?” Kevin laughed. “We’re kidnapping you, bro!”

Flynn started to struggle but the weight of the young men kept him relatively still.

Kevin started tying Flynn’s ankles together. Flynn kicked, trying to prevent him from doing such, but Kevin merely slid down on top of his legs to hold them still. In a few moments, his ankles were bound together.

“Kevin, seriously! I’ve been riding all day. I just wanna relax,” Flynn begged.

“You can relax while you’re tied up, bro,” Kevin laughed in response. Looking over at Matt, Kevin then said, “Help me tie up his hands to his feet!”

They were hogtying him! Being suited up in thick racing leathers, and putting up a fight, it wasn’t easy for the two young, twentysomething dudes trying to subdue their captive. They managed, however, to get Flynn in to a proper hogtie.

“He’s like a roped calf at the rodeo!” Matt roared, slapping hands with Kevin.

“Fuck! This shit is tight!” Flynn complained again.

Matt leaned down and cupped his hand over Flynn’s mouth and warned with a laugh, “Want us to gag you?”

Flynn looked up at Matt and shot him a glare. Matt, a skinny white boy with a ghetto style, stood back up, folded his arms around his shirtless chest and began to spontaneously rap,

“Don’t mess with the best. We bind ya fool.

This ain’t no test. We make you drool.

Put ya in a muzzle, as we watch ya struggle.

Then fuck with your brain, in your own restrain, wondering if you’ve gone insane!

Boy!”

“Right on!! That’s tight!” Kevin hollered, slapping hands with Matt.

“Thanks, yo,” Matt proudly smiled, who was an aspiring rapper.

“Did you like that little ditty, freak?” Kevin laughed looking down at his roommate. “You just had a rap song written about being our bitch.”

Kevin, who was straight, knew Flynn was gay. He didn’t give a shit about that. They played basketball on the beach and surfed together. Like Kevin, Flynn was a tall, handsome all-American male with blonde hair and blue eyes. He considered Flynn a “player” or a brother from another mother. Being gay wasn’t why he called him a “freak.”

Flynn recently confided to Kevin, however, about his various fetishes. They were pretty stoned one night when he told him that he really got in to bondage. He might have mentioned that he had a kidnap fantasy somewhere in that hazy state. He also revealed his foot fetish, which suddenly made sense to Kevin since Flynn was always “borrowing” his shoes. Originally, since they had the same foot size 13, he thought it was innocent enough like wearing another dude’s sneaks. Between the two of them, they had impressive collection of Nikes and other brand athletic sneakers.

Flynn wasn’t recalling confession night though. He was genuinely irritated by the sudden loss of freedom after a hard day of riding. So, when they started to slap his face around, he couldn’t help but mouth off some more.

“Jackasses!” Flynn yelled at annoying man boys hazing him. “Cut it out!”

“Oh, man you want it, don’t you?” Kevin smiled looking down at his roommate as he removed his left Nike sneaker. Turning to Matt he said, “Let’s gag him, bro!”

Kevin peeled off a black Nike crew sock from his foot and balled it up. He tried to shove it in Flynn’s mouth but he closed his lips and wouldn’t budge. Kevin pinched Flynn’s nose and waited for his face to turn red. At the moment Flynn opened his mouth, out of breath, Kevin stuffed his sweaty sock right in there.

The taste of his roommate’s sock was delightfully rancid. It was the familiar reeky smell that Flynn encountered every time Kevin removed his shoes when he got home, putting his sweaty, socked feet on the coffee table. He always wanted to dig in to those smelly feet and now he had the next best thing.

“Chew on that, Meyers!” Kevin laughed at his roommate, calling him by his last name. Then he leaned in to him and whispered, “I know you sneak sniffs of my socks, little bitch. Don’t pretend you don’t.”

Though he liked some of what was happening, it was still embarrassing for Flynn to realize his roommate was getting the best of him in front of Matt. It was humiliating that his roommate’s best friend was witnessing the sock abuse. Although he was gay and had the sock fetish, Flynn was no wimp and he had an ego. He was a masculine, athletic, confident young man now forced to endure his teases.

“Mmmphhhh!” Flynn groveled as Kevin held his hand over his mouth to keep the smelly sock in place.

“Kinda gross, yo!” Matt exclaimed.

“Yo, this little freak likes my sneaks, man. He’s loving it!” Kevin assured Matt.

As embarrassed as Flynn was in that moment, Kevin was right. Flynn was enjoying the warm, salty, vinegary taste of his dirty sock lodged in his mouth. He was also enjoying the sweat building up inside his motorcycle uniform as he writhed about in his hogtie.

Kevin wrapped several layers of duct tape around the lower half of his face which ensured that stinky sock gag wasn’t going anywhere.

Now that he was rope bound and duct tape gagged, the straight bros assaulted Flynn with a round of tickles, attacking the armpits, his rib cage, and all over his body. Fortunately, the thick leather uniform Flynn wore weakened their attempts to penetrate his sensitive areas. Flynn still squirmed and struggled on the floor, mostly enjoying the attention.

But, they soon realized Flynn’s Achilles heel so to speak. With one of his boots off, they moved down to his socked foot and began tickling the bottom of his sole. Flynn exploded with uncontrollable laughter. He was really sensitive at the base of his foot and hated it.

“Mmmphhhhhh! Mmmmhh! Mmmmh!” Flynn yelped in to his duct taped mouth, with muffled laughter. The laughing made him breathe more which made him taste the putrid strong smell from Kevin’s sock even more.

The tickling continued as well as various punching, poking, and prodding around Flynn’s defenseless body. The bro’ey jocks even managed to get unusually close to Flynn’s nuts with their invading fingers. An inch or two closer and they would have felt the boner growing in his crotch. He was loving it the whole the time, though he pretended otherwise, at least for Matt’s sake. Kevin knew how this must be turning him on.

Eventually they got bored with torturing their captive and decided to head to the beach to surf. Flynn was relieved to hear it because he was getting a case of rope burn from all the bucking and jerking away from their aggressive advances. He was getting a little exhausted. He could smell the warm racing leathers as he felt sweat dripping inside his uniform around his body. He could use a break.

Kevin and Matt stripped out of their shorts and underwear. Kevin walked naked to his bedroom and returned with two 3mm wetsuits, throwing one to Matt. Flynn watched the nude boys don the neoprene wetsuits, letting them rest around their lean waists, showing off their trim builds and washboard abs. The handsome pair put neoprene booties over their feet. Flynn couldn’t help but notice how good they looked in the surf gear, especially Kevin with his v-shaped frame and hairless chest and happy trail of blonde hair that traveled from his belly button to his crotch.

They were going to leave Flynn tied up alone while they enjoyed the beach. He kind of wished he could go surfing with them but he was also looking forward to the solitude of being restrained, enjoying it at his own pace while smelling that foul, yet tolerable odorous sock in his mouth.

Before they went, though, Kevin stopped a moment, expressing a new thought.

“You know, he’s missing something,” Kevin said in a dramatic way as if he knew what that something was. “We need something that will REALLY humiliate him while we’re gone.”

Matt shrugged, now holding one of the surfboards from the corner of the living room, looking at him puzzled.

“I got it! Give me one of your sneakers,” Kevin instructed Matt.

Matt, sighed and put down the surfboard, going over to the couch where his sneakers laid on the floor. They were a pair of black skater shoes so trashed they were falling apart at the seams. He handed one to Kevin.

Kevin knelt down at his tied up roommate and cupped the smelly sneaker over his face. “You want this don’t you? You’re begging for it, aren’t you?”

Flynn shook his head no, and the other young men laughed. Matt’s shoe smelled like rats had died inside of it. It was like death in there!

Kevin took a whiff of the sneaker, gasping at the odor, then saying, “This is foul, but I think we can do better!”

‘Better than that?’ Flynn thought to himself. As much as he loved the smell of guys’ feet, the preview he got of that shoe made him think it couldn’t be any worse. What was Kevin planning?

Kevin pulled out the insole of the shoe. The black, felt material coating the rubber insole was so worn in that it had whited out, faded imprints of Matt’s foot. Clearly, he wore those sneaks all the time without socks.

“Check it out,” Kevin said to Matt, making sure that Flynn was also watching.

Kevin rubbed the insole underneath his armpits. Then he pulled the wetsuit further down his waist, almost exposing his dick, showing the puff of pubic hair at his crotch, then rubbed the insole around his sweaty ball sack!

Flynn gasped, with his eyes widening as big as saucers at the sight of his straight roommate doing such a disgusting yet erotically provocative thing.

“That’s some hella gay shit, but why the fuck not!” Matt laughed, taking his insole back from Kevin.

Matt preceded to do the same thing as Kevin. The skinny skater rat looking chump raised his arms and generously scraped the insole on his sweaty armpits. Then he dropped his wetsuit down proudly to his ankles, going butt naked. He glided the insole in and around his crotch area, taking his time as he rubbed it on his balls.

Flynn helplessly looked on as Matt finished up the sadistic task of wiping nut sack funk on the cushioned shoe insole.

Kevin placed the insole back in Matt’s shoe, took another brief sniff of it and rapped, “Junky monkey! Now we got some fun, son!”

Kevin returned to his helpless roommate, who was now whimpering and shaking his head. He took his remaining sock from the carpet and stuffed it deep into the sneaker.

“Dude, don’t act like you haven’t wanted our dicks. This is the closet you’re gonna get to it, bro,” Kevin laughed.

“Hell yea. Sniffing on our dick cheese, slave bitch!” Matt bragged, still standing naked with his wetsuit to his knees.

Kevin, the studly, straight roommate, leaned down and opened up the laces of Matt’s trashed sneaker and pulled back the tongue of the shoe. Then he cupped it over his gay roommate’s face, knowing too well that this was a turn on for the poor, kinky bastard. The shoe fit perfectly and Flynn immediately was subjected to the intense array of foul body odors hovering inside the warm sneak. He got an erection.

Kevin took duct tape and wrapped the sneaker in place to Flynn’s face, who gave up struggling and accepted what was being done to him.

“Mmmhhpphh!” Flynn gasped, as he took in the rank air through his nose, which was the only way he could breathe since he was gagged. As he inhaled, something rose up and tickled his nose. It was probably their pubic hair that had rubbed off on the insole.

“Take lots of deep breaths, freaky Flynn!” Kevin laughed.

“Yea, get all that stink out before we return, ha hah,” Matt added. “I don’t want Kevin’s ball sweat inside my shoe! That shit’s disgusting!”

Flynn moaned and groaned, pretending to be tormented by the overwhelming smells invading his nostrils. But in truth, he loved it and Kevin knew it. Even Matt had a clue now that he was enjoying it.

Kevin and Matt took a few photos with their cell phones of Flynn bound and gagged with that sneaker taped to his face. They posed for selfies with Flynn in the background, which humiliated him.

Kevin knelt down once more to his gay roommate, noticing that his face was red. “Oh, did we embarrass you?” Kevin mocked as he ruffled his hair, patted him on the head.

Matt pulled the wetsuit back up to his waist and the twentysomething punks took off for the beach, with surfboards in hand. They left Flynn hogtied on the carpet, gagged, and forced to sniff that dirty sneaker laced with every unimaginable form of Kevin and Matt’s body odors. To him that aroma was a sweet scent that fired off all the right pistons in his kinky brain.

He would stay like that for hours too, sweating profusely in his racing leathers.

The End

Metal would like to welcome SockgaggedJason to the Prison Library — and thank him for sharing this story! If you enjoyed it and want to read more stories from SockgaggedJason, please leave a message in the comments section below!