Synopsis: This is a true story about the time I confided to my best friend Kenneth, while in high school, that I like male bondage and sports gear. He surprises me by engaging in tie up session while we are suited up in football and basketeball gear. And we make a video tape of it.
This is a recollection of the night I confessed to my childhood best friend that I was probably gay and that I had a sports gear and bondage fetish. We were both just teenagers; seventeen years old. Let me tell you why it happened, how it unfolded, and most importantly how he reacted. It may surprise you.
If you read this, you may think I’m exaggerating or embellishing certain parts of this true story but I am not.
It was a school night like any other but I was depressed. I was fairly popular, I had played sports, and stayed active. I had so many secrets and desires that ate me up, however, and this particular night was more teenage angst than I could handle.
I asked Kenneth to come over and he could hear the pain in my voice. We were childhood best friends but the last year or so – we were now juniors in high school – we didn’t hang out as much as we once did. He was big into wrestling on his team and I was, while something of an athlete who had played football, had other friends who weren’t jock heads like he was becoming. Still, Kenneth was the one I knew best and thought I could trust.
He showed up right away. Kenneth looked so good too. As we got older, I had developed a crush on him. He was average height but muscle toned like you’d expect a high school wrestler to be. He had blonde hair, blue eyes, and a great, happy smile.
I couldn’t look at him so I turned off the lights. It was pretty dramatic as I had him sit down in my bedroom while I talked to him in total darkness. I was too nervous to look at his face as I told him.
I remember blurting it right out of my mouth. I told him I was gay. Then I told him that I had a thing for bondage and sports gear. I even told him that smelly socks turned me on. Why I was spilling the beams on all these specifics? I can’t recall how I got the courage to say the things that I did.
Considering all the times we had tied each other up as kids, mostly at my behest, I was ready for him to be pissed off and storm out.
Kenneth had paused for a few moments and I heard him take a breath. He calmly said it was okay and that he understood. He wasn’t bothered with me being gay or the other things. I sighed with relief and we had a conversation about it. Kenneth admitted that he often wondered what it would be like to wear a football uniform. When he watched games at school, he commented that the gear made the guys look so powerful and huge. Coming from him, I found it ironic. He looked so hot in his singlet when he wrestled.
I told him I had football gear in my closet and he accepted my offer to try some on.
I pulled out two large boxes and dumped the contents. A mess of rope, long tube socks, athletic tape, football gear, and other sports uniforms fell out on to my floor. Things like football shoulder pads, pants and jerseys, a baseball uniform, basketball uniform, helmets, and all kinds of pads. Even wrestling gear like a singlet and a grey wrestling practice shirt with the school logo on it was there. He was fascinated by all the stuff I had in my collection.
I confided that I had broken in to our various locker rooms on several occasions. I even told him that I had snuck in my video camera one late night and shot video of me tied up in football gear in the varsity football team’s locker room. Yes, this is true and his true reaction wasn’t negative either. He found it bold and punk rock.
We stripped down to our underwear awkwardly, but me getting a rush of excitement, so we could suit up. Kenneth’s smooth build looked so nice. He got more attractive as we got older. Me, I was so tall and lanky, not yet filling in to my body like he was.
Kenneth got suited up in to a football uniform. He put on the white practice pants with full padding, the shoulder pads, and the white practice jersey. He donned the helmet for a little bit as well before removing it. He kept his regular socks on but fit in to a pair of football cleats. I wanted him to wear a jock-strap underneath, hoping he would, but he kept on his boxers. He at least took an extra foam knee pad and stuffed it over his bare crotch under his boxers. Then he laced up and belted the football pants. This produced a nice bulging effect.
I got dressed in the school’s varsity basketball uniform – a red jersey and red shorts. Underneath, I had put on a jockstrap, over my underwear.
It was fun doing this and I was getting out of my head now.
We looked each other over and admired one another in our uniforms. He flexed his muscles and I punched him playfully in the chest with the shoulder pads buffering the blow. “Thanks coach!” he laughed.
I suggested we see what we looked like on my video camera. He had no problem with that. We went to my entertainment room where I kept a video camera on a tripod. I was always shooting videos back then. I turned it on and pressed record as I faced it towards the empty closet in that room. It had double doors that opened so it was a wide entrance.
Kenneth and I stood inside the space of the closet in front of the video camera and could now see ourselves on my TV which was connected to the camera. It was a live display. Kenneth was making poses and various silly gestures in the gear and so was I.
I’m not sure if I asked permission but I found myself tying him up next. I walked him back in to the closet and tied his wrists wide apart to the metal clothes rack above. “Thanks coach!” Kenneth smiled at me again, allowing me to string him up. Then I tied his ankles together with an extra nylon football belt.
Here was the best part. I got to gag him with a dirty sock! I tied one of my tube socks flat and wide across his face so it covered his mouth completely. Then I knotted it off. He looked like one of those hostages you see in TV shows or movies where the gag covers the whole lower half of their face.
Kenneth looked at himself bound and gagged in gear on my television. He played like he was struggling hard for freedom, twisting and grunting.
I was getting somewhat of an erection now that fortunately my jockstrap and cup underneath the basketball shorts was concealing.
I pretended to be his evil tormentor, hitting him hard in the shoulder pads, lightly punching his exposed abs, tickling his armpits through the nylon mesh football jersey, and poking at the sides of his rib cage. He pretended to be agonized and fought me, shaking his head and making muffled pleas for mercy.
I went down to his crotch and started to loosen up his football belt. He didn’t flinch. He made more playful moans for mercy. I opened his belt, unlaced his pants and looked back up at him. He wasn’t concerned, not for real at least, just in his pretend like demeanor. In fact, he played at acting the humiliated jock, mugging for the camera. I pulled down the stretchy white football pants to his knees and exposed his boxers. The foam knee pad was underneath, and I brazenly reached in to his crotch and pulled out the foam padding, now warmed up. Again, he wasn’t freaked out.
I turned to the camera and held up the knee pad, then back to him and mocked Kenneth for wearing a ridiculous thing like that. He continued to squirm and groan in his restraints.
I was tempted to pull down those boxers and maybe even play with his dick. I wasn’t really into sexual contact at that point in my life but it would have been fun. I didn’t, however, feeling it was going too far and spared ourselves that drama. Besides, I could tell he wasn’t’ getting hard like I was.
After a few minutes I united him.
Kenneth delighted me by saying he wanted to reverse roles now. We moved the camera back so it was focused on a big sturdy office chair in a corner of my room.
Kenneth yanked off the jersey and shoulder pads to get more comfortable. He stayed clad in his sleeveless shirt, now a little sweaty, and kept on my football pants which he re-laced up his waist. He looked really hot like that.
I sat in my chair and he tied me down to it like a champ with lots of rope and knot work. I got the same gag treatment but he made it even tighter around my mouth, using the same used sock of mine.
I remember watching that moment on the TV, and later on the video replay, of him gagging me. He stretched out the tube sock, moved it in front of my head and then pressed it over my face under my nose, tying off the gag as he said, “What are you gonna say about it now? Huh?”
By the way, Kenneth was a natural with tying a guy up. He had my wrists and forearms tied to the arms of the chair. My calves and ankles were bound to the legs of the chair. My chest was wrapped with more rope to the backing of the chair. I was pretty secure and it felt great.
Kenneth treated me to the same torture I gave him. He punched me, slapped my face around, tickled me, and mocked me all the while. “What are you gonna do now? A BIG STRONG guy like you! Tied up! Gagged!”
I put on a good show as well, struggling and grunting in my predicament for the camera. I watched myself on the TV and made sure to note that the camera’s red record light was still going. It was all being captured on video. I liked the odd visual of a sports hazing where one boy, me, is dressed in a basketball uniform, and the other boy, Kenneth, is in football gear taking charge.
Eventually I was united.
The fun was over and we got dressed back in our regular clothes. We didn’t talk much during this part. I asked him though not to tell anyone about the experience. He promised. Meanwhile it was funny that he didn’t care to say anything about the video tape I made. He seemed okay with it, I suppose.
Kenneth gave me a hug and went on his way. That would be the last time I had any meaningful interaction with him for years. During our senior year of high school, we would acknowledge each other but say very little. Perhaps that situation scared him off after all.
It would be fifteen years later, just a few years ago from today, that I would be in touch with Kenneth again. I reached out to him on Facebook and we got together when I returned home for the holidays, me having moved to the west coast. Kenneth had joined the marines after high school, had a kid at nineteen, then joined the police force in Arkansas after his tour of duty in Afghanistan.
I nervously brought up that awkward night of tying each other up. He told me that he just wanted to make me feel better, that he saw I was depressed. He admitted to being curious about bondage but that it indeed made him feel a little weird afterwards. He apologized about it and I told him I was the one who should apologize.
It quickly became water under the bridge and we were good friends again. The funny thing is, our lives today couldn’t be any more different. He’s a conservative redneck in the south and I’m a liberal so-called elitist in California. But since reuniting, we’ve remained close and stay in touch.
And, by the way, if you’re wondering about that infamous video I made, I’ll tell you. It was an amazing forty-five-minute-long video and I would jack off to it for years to come. I ultimately destroyed the last copy years back when I worried that it would get lost and come back to haunt me. This was before I fully embraced my fetish life. But, damn, I sure wish I hadn’t done that!
Metal would like to thank SockgaggedJason for this story!