Tau Upsilon Gamma [M+/M+] [update - 2/6/25]

[CowboyStud]

I love how Leo is suffering as much from the psychological torture as the others from the physical, Well except for Cody

This sounds like an interesting trip already

I REALLY REALLY REALLY WANT TO KNOW HOW KINKY OUR COWBOY IS… I need the backstory! Lmao

[KidnappedCowboy]

I really like the common thread running through this entire story...bonding!

Yes, I know.

But it's not that bonding I'm talking about.

What makes this story a classic is the bonding of the pledges to each other. They are on the way to becoming true brothers. And no one will break those bonds!

[Volobond]

I'm excited for ALLL the bondage that's gonna happen! Whoops, I meant bonding. Totally meant that.

Cody is adorable as always, and I'm actually really interested in the internal dynamic Leo has warring his selfishness and need to look out for himself with his loyalty and trust in the others.

[wataru14]

I actually managed to get some work done! Here is the next installment. I'm going on a two-week vacation, so it may be a bit before I can respond or continue.

Chapter 5: Presidential Aspirations

“Oh!” Mason said, nearly dropping his apple. “Brett! I didn’t see you there.”

Mason was actually a little disappointed. Spending the day with Scott would probably be chaotic, but whatever happened, it would be a shit-ton of fun. Mason and Brett hadn’t had the best of interactions so far, and his outburst at Ray’s “trial” a month ago certainly didn’t help things. He also couldn’t shake the feeling that his Big Bro pairing with Danny made Brett already negatively disposed to him. Like he was worried Mason was being groomed as a future weapon to use against his position.

But Brett wasn’t hostile, or even in “boss mode” right now. He leaned nonchalantly against the doorframe, taking a sip of his coffee. In this relaxed setting, he almost seemed like a totally different person. But Leo had warned them against thinking that. Brett was always watching. Always calculating. And nothing he said was ever without meaning.

“Relax,” Brett chuckled. “You look like you’re afraid I’m going to eat you or something. Like I said yesterday, this is a stress-free retreat.”

Mason lowered his guard a little. He probably was overanalyzing things. “Yeah, you’re right,” he said. “Danny says I ‘think too much.’ Hopefully this week will help.”

Brett scoffed. “’Think too much?’ Danny would think that’s a bad thing.” Mason frowned, which made Brett change his approach. “Sorry, that came out wrong. You know what I meant.”

Mason decided not to dwell on in. Brett and Danny were rivals, and often took swipes at each other. It’s not like Danny hadn’t said things about Brett to him many times, after all. “So it’s you and me, huh?” he asked. “What do you have planned?”

Brett walked into the kitchen and finished his cup, putting it in the sink for Scott to wash. Scott grumbled as he took it and muttered “Freshmen should be doing this kinda thing…” But Brett ignored him.

“Nothing major,” Brett said, stretching away the morning cobwebs. “Just a hike. There’s a pretty cool cave up in the hills that used to be a native tribal camp. I think someone like you would get a kick out of it.” Mason had to admit it did sound good. He was more of an applied sciences kind of guy, but history was still interesting to him. But the word “hike” was altogether another thing.

“A hike?” he asked. “Do we need to pack supplies?”

“No, nothing like that,” Brett answered. “It’s not that far and it’s not too hilly. Besides I wouldn’t make you do anything THAT physical. If you were with Hoss, that’s another story altogether. But you lucked out and got me. Just some water should be enough to bring.”

Mason couldn’t help but think Brett’s comment about physical activity was meant to be a barb at him, but he let that slide, too. He would just have to step up and show Brett he wasn’t the weak, scared thing that first walked through the TUG house doors at the beginning of term. He smiled softly to himself, thinking he was sounding like Ray. But he just said “Sounds great. When do we leave?”

---

Brett’s assessment of the trail was far from accurate, Mason found. The ground was rocky and uneven, and there was high humidity from the lake and its tributary streams. They also had noticeably moved up in elevation as they walked. The unseasonably warm weather also made things difficult. “How could it be 90 degrees in November?” Mason wondered. But he didn’t dare complain, or even ask for breaks. If they were going to stop, it had to be Brett’s call.

As for Brett, he didn’t seem fazed by the weather or the terrain. At first, he had looked back to check on Mason’s progress every few feet. “Probably expecting me to collapse from exhaustion after five minutes,” Mason harumphed to himself. But as they walked, and Brett could see Mason easily holding his own, the checkups became less frequent. And the conversation was friendly. Pleasant, even. Brett would often point out some sort of rare plant or other along the trail. They even saw some deer and foxes. Living in the Metro City suburbs all his life, wild animals were something Mason had little exposure to.

After an hour or so, the pair reached a clearing in the woods at the foot of the hills. Brett stopped and sat down on a fallen log, taking out a bottled water to drink. Mason, taking the hint, sat down on a nearby stump and did the same. They were probably from the same tree, he realized. Brett seemed to study him for a moment. “Ah, here it is!” Mason thought. “Back to the REAL Brett.”

Seeing Mason studying him right back, Brett chuckled. “Figured it out already, huh?” he said. “That we came out here so I could talk to you alone? Danny said there’s no putting anything past you.” Mason smiled at the compliment. And at the respect that Brett was showing Danny.

“Well, I figured it was something like that when you said it was a hike,” he said, swatting a bug on his arm. “You don’t exactly strike me as the outdoorsy type yourself.”

“Very true,” Brett chuckled. “A spoiled rich kid like me is not exactly at home in the wilderness. And that ability to notice things and analyze is the main reason I chose you as my partner for today.”

“Now THAT was interesting,” Mason thought.

“As you probably guessed,” Brett continued. “The pairings are significant. It’s not just a hang-out-and-have-fun-with-someone-new kind of thing. Although we do want that, there’s obviously more to it. You five have been with us for a little over two months now, so you must have a pretty good idea of how we operate. It shouldn’t be a surprise that we’re always thinking about the future. When the advisor gets back, he and the Juniors will already start looking into next year’s crop of prospective Freshmen, as a matter of fact. But as for you guys, we’re starting to look into what roles you are suited for. What positions you will take in the TUG hierarchy in the coming years.”

The realization hit Mason like a punch. “Wait,” he thought. “If they’re feeling us out for future positions… and Brett is the one who chose me… then that means…” His mental process was clearly shown on his face as he drew the connections.

Brett smiled. “You worked out what that means already, huh?” he said. “Good. That makes me feel like I’m on the right track. So, to answer the question that I know is coming: yes. I am looking into you for a leadership position.”

Mason was shocked.

“Now, the presidency isn’t an inherited title,” Brett said. “You have to be chosen. Being close to Danny, I’m sure you’re well aware of that as he’s not shy about saying how he wants my seat. But I think you would be a fantastic chapter president. You’ve got what it takes.”

“Me?” Mason said, still reeling. “Why?”

“During the… unpleasantness with Ray, everyone stepped up to support him. But you were the first. Even in my ‘condition’ at the time, I noticed that. The others thought it was because of your existing bond with Ray, but I saw it as something more. And I also saw how quickly everyone followed your lead. You also masterminded the car wash. DIX was really going to kick our asses in that, but you turned it around. It was your leadership that won out.”

“You think that because I planned a car wash that I can lead the whole crew like you do?” Mason said. He was quite taken aback.

“Not just from that,” Brett said. “There are other signs, but I’m not going to give that away. It ‘corrupts the sample’ as you science guys say. It has to be a blind experiment, no?”

“But surely Cody… or Ray…”

“Well, Nate and Leo are definitely NOT leadership material. That should be clear to anyone. Cody? He’s a possibility. Strong one, too. He’s definitely the rock of your group. The soul. But he’s a little too flighty. A little too soft. The fact that he’s now dating the guy that literally kidnapped him speaks volumes about his decisiveness. As for Ray… he’s definitely your biggest rival in this path. But he’s also someone who likes power. He seeks it. Almost expects it like it’s owed to him. He’s a lot like Danny in that regard. And I don’t think it’s a good idea for someone who wants to be in power to actually get it. It tends to go to their heads. I can see him becoming a tyrant really quickly.”

Mason had to admit Brett was right. Being the Head Alpha in Charge was always Ray’s providence. Almost like he felt he was destined for leadership. Mason had always just assumed that Ray would narrowly edge out Cody for the presidency when it was their turn. And he could definitely see Ray letting power go to his head. He never thought of himself as a contender. But if Brett thought he was right for it…

“Now, these decisions aren’t being made right now,” Brett said. “There’s still two years to go. And we graduate this year. So after June it’s really in Jaquan’s hands. But he and I are pretty much in agreement on this. He will continue mentoring you in the future if that’s what you want. But I have to warn you. If you do continue on this path, you and Ray will have a showdown eventually. He’ll probably shrug off talk of you being a leader at first, but once he sees how you always rise to the occasion, he may get jealous. That’s how Danny was. Can you handle that?”

Mason wasn’t sure. The idea of leadership was enticing to him, but was it worth alienating someone who was closer to him than his own family? He wasn’t sure and Brett could sense that indecision. “Like I said, you don’t have to decide now. I just want you to keep it in the back of your mind. Talk it over with Nate and Cody if you want. You can trust them both.”

“I… I will,” Mason stammered. “I’m just shocked you see that potential in me.”

“Don’t be,” Brett said dismissively. “All the signs are there.” Brett paused for a moment. “I have to take a piss before we move on. Hang out here for a minute. I’ll be right back.”

Brett got up and vanished into the foliage. Mason sat, taking in the sounds of the woods and mulling over what Brett had said. Could he really be a leader? Did he have it in him? He was so engrossed in thought that he didn’t realize how much time had passed. He checked his phone and saw that Brett had been gone for 15 minutes. That was way too long for a piss. Even if Brett had to Number 2 he would have surely been back by now.

“Brett?” he called out. No answer. He frowned. “If he decided to leave me here and watch me try to get back on my own like some kind of Ranger Rick, I’m really going to be pissed,” he said to himself. “The cabin is just a few miles down a straight path. What kind of test is that?” He got up and pushed through the underbrush where Brett had gone.

“Wait,” Mason thought. “Maybe he’s hurt. There are deer here, maybe there are bears. Maybe he fell down a ridge or something. Should I get the others?” He pushed ahead. “No, I have to find him first. If he IS hurt, then leading everyone back here blind will make things worse.”

“BRETT!” he called out. No answer. The foliage was thick and overgrown. You couldn’t see in here from the clearing. No way Brett would have gone farther than this just to relieve himself. “Something’s not right,” Mason thought. That’s when the rag clamped over his mouth and everything went dark.

---

When Mason opened his eyes, he had no idea where he was. And opening his eyes didn’t help much since he had some kind of cloth bag over his head, rendering him completely unable to see. Under the bag, his mouth was gagged with rough cloth: stuffing and cleave. He was seated on a cold concrete floor against a metal support pole, his hands fettered behind it with heavy-duty plastic cable ties. His legs were stretched out in front of him with a similar pair around his ankles. Behind him, back-to-back on the other side of the pole, he could feel someone else was similarly confined. This person was shirtless, like he was, and his heavy, even breaths indicated he was unconscious.

“Brett?” Mason thought. “It has to be. Someone must have grabbed him while he was relieving himself. And then waited for me to come after him. But who? And why?”

But there was no time to think about that right now. He had bigger, more immediate concerns. He and (presumably) Brett had been abducted by someone unknown. This wasn’t a playful TUG game. Or even the Seniors’ capture by DIX a month ago. In those cases, no one was in any actual mortal peril. But this was different. It was real. Crazed hillbilly serial killers? Sex traffickers? A survivalist slaver cult? His mind reeled at the sinister possibilities. Shaking all that away, Mason focused his senses and listened closely to the room. With his sight blocked, his hearing became more acute. He heard nothing other than the drip drip drip of a leaky faucet and the breathing of whoever it was behind him.

“Looks like we’re alone,” Mason thought. “Good. I have to try to get loose.” First and foremost, Mason wanted his vision back. But how could he get the bag off him without using his hands? “Not gonna happen,” Mason thought. “I’ve got to get my hands free first.” He started to squirm in his bonds, but then froze. Even though he couldn’t see or hear anyone, it was entirely possible someone was there in the room, silently watching. What would they do to him if they saw him trying to escape? No. He had to take the risk. “I have no choice,” Mason thought. “Whoever’s behind me is out cold, so he’s no help. Neither of us will get out of here if I don’t do something.”

Mason bent his knees and brought his legs in closer to his torso, feet flat on the ground. Using this new leverage, he pushed back against the post and upwards, causing him to slide up into a half-crouch. Better than being seated, he thought. He knew exactly what he needed to do, but it was difficult. He needed precise control to get into the position he was seeking and not injure himself in the process. He slid his feet back, so that his heels were against the post, and began to lower himself, slowly, into a kneeling position. He had to be careful. If he slipped, he would fall down and could possibly break his kneecaps against the concrete floor. Then they would really be sunk. Mason furrowed his brow and put all his focus into guiding his descent.

“Carefully… carefully… and… there!” Mason felt his knees gently touch the ground, so he could settle his weight down. From his kneeling position, he could reach his feet with his bound hands. “Step 1 complete,” he thought.

The previous year, while they were still in high school, Ray had discovered a YouTube channel called “Mike and Drew’s Brute Squad Stunt Show” that he watched religiously. Mostly it was a pair of musclebound dudebros doing crazy stunts. Mostly involving fire, high places, and risk of grievous bodily harm. Sometimes all three at once. Both Mike and Drew were professional movie stuntmen so it got pretty wild at times. Mason had watched them all with Ray, in no small part because the pair were both achingly hot, but one particular series of videos popped into his memory. The duo had done a playlist of escape challenges, and one of them dealt with heavy-duty cable ties. Just like the ones Mason found himself bound with in the present.

“Check it, fam,” Mike had said in the video intro. “Cable ties like this are no joke. These are the type that SWAT and the Marines use. Meant for restraining the biggest and baddest of dudes. They’re not the $1.99 Home Depot variety you can just pop by flexing. Well, I probably could, but not everyone is a beast like me. Let’s say you’re a pansy like Drew here. Who doesn’t have the upper body strength to Hulk out of them. What do you do? Well, fam, Daddy Mike is gonna show you right now!”

Mason thought back to the video and started using the techniques Mike and Drew had shown. It worked for them in the video, but you could never be sure that wasn’t just from creative editing and multiple takes. But Mason was betting everything on it working now. He carefully extended his fingers and began undoing his shoelaces. When Brett had said they were going on a hike, Mason ran back to the Freshmen barracks and grabbed a pair of hiking boots. And now he was VERY glad he did. He honed his concentration to a razor’s edge as he unlaced one of the boots, amid the rising fear that their unknown captor or captors could return at any moment.

“Now these ties are strong AF,” Drew had said in the video. He turned around and the camera zoomed in on his bound wrists. He flexed and strained a little to show off the bonds’ tensile strength, the muscles and veins in his arms bulging from the exertion. “They have double locks like metal handcuffs, so it’s really difficult to mess with the mechanism. And the plastic is super high-grade. So what do you do? Well, brawn won’t work, so you need to use brains!”

“Well, you’re fucked, then, bruh,” Mike joked from off-camera.

Drew continued. “It’s strong plastic, but in the end, plastic is just plastic. And what does plastic do when it gets hot? It melts. And THAT’s how you get out of these.”

“Science, fam!” Mike interjected from off-camera. That had become somewhat of a catchphrase of Mike and Drew’s when they were doing something that required a level of technical knowhow. And it caught Mason’s attention enough to keep him hooked on watching.

Drawing from the techniques in the video, Mason unraveled one of his shoelaces. Since they were hiking boots, the laces were sturdy thin paracord. Not like the kind you’d find on regular sneakers. He carefully threaded the end of the lace up and over the cable ties, then down again on the other side. It took a while, and he almost dropped the lace a few times. Mason cursed himself that he didn’t have Leo’s dexterity, but couldn’t let himself get distracted by that. It seemed to take forever, but he finally got it. The lace went up from his left foot, over the cable ties, and then back down. Using his bound hands Mason quickly tied the loose end around the pole, knotting it as best he could with his limited range of motion. He awkwardly scootched away from the pole on his knees, creating a lifeline that ran between his foot and the pole. He slide forward as far as he could manage, making the shoelace go taut, and then got to work.

“Friction!” Mike said into the camera. “That’s how you do it! When you have friction, you also have heat. It happens during sexy time and it also happens during, uh, ‘escapey time.’ Yeah. Anyway. It’s like a crazy side-effect. And you need to use that to your advantage. Now here’s what you do…”

Mason began sliding his hands back and forth, rubbing the plastic ties against the coarse fibers of the bootlace. Once he got the position right, he picked up the speed, rubbing and grinding like mad. He could hear a soft “vip vip” with each movement. Just what he needed. After a minute or so, he started to feel warmth. He stretched his body to the limit, trying to maintain the tension in the bootlace that was essential to create the needed friction. “Come on, you fucker!” Mason thought as he rubbed furiously, sweat beading up on his brow. “Just a little…”

“POP!” The cable tie loop on his left wrist gave way. Mason was just barely able to whip his hands in front of him and break his fall before he toppled face-first onto the concrete floor, away from the pole. With his hands now free, he immediately reached up and yanked the bag off his head.

He was in some kind of shack. Dark. Musty. Full of rotting shelves containing dusty mason jars and old tools. The windows were covered in grime and there was only one exit: a rusty metal door a short distance away. His eyes darted all around, but he relaxed when he saw no one else but him and his unknown companion in the room. Before doing anything else, Mason used the friction saw to sever the cable ties around his ankles. Now he could stand up and move freely. He pulled the cloth over his mouth downward, letting it hang around his neck, and spit out the sodden cloth stuffing before racing around to the other side of the pole.

The man confined there was still unconscious, his chest rising and falling with even breaths. Bound in the same manner as Mason was, with the same black bag over his head. Mason quickly removed the bag and gave a sigh of relief when he saw Brett’s sleeping face. But his excitement was short-lived. Brett’s face was bruised and he had a bleeding lump on the back of his head. Like someone had done a number on him and then bashed him with a blunt object. That wasn’t good. Mason ran to the shelves and grabbed some rusty scissors, using them to saw through the cable ties that held Brett to the pole. Brett slumped into his arms.

Mason laid the chapter president down on the floor. He removed Brett’s gag, washed the cloth off in the dripping sink, and then used it as a makeshift bandage over his head wound. Then he crept over to the door and gingerly opened it a smidge. It creaked like Hell itself. Mason waited a moment, but when nothing else happened, he opened the door fully. The afternoon sun illuminated a small, debris-strewn yard. Stepping outside, Mason looked around and saw the structure they were confined in was a derelict maintenance shed in the middle of nowhere. Forest sprawled out in every direction.

“I’ve got to get out of here,” Mason thought. “No… WE’VE got to get out of here.” He weighed his options. “I could leave Brett,” he thought. “Drag him to a safe place and run to get help. But… what if whoever grabbed us comes back? What if they find him? And what about wild animals? There are probably wolves or bears in these woods. And how would I find my way back here? I don’t even know where we are! I’m a science guy, not a Ranger! But how am I going to get Brett out of here? He’s completely unconscious. Dead weight. And he outweighs me by a lot. What the hell do I do???”

Coming Soon: Chapter 6 – The Dukes of Hazzard

[gag1195]

I'm conflicted. Part of me is hoping that this is all just an elaborate test/trial for Mason. Because then, he and Brett aren't in any real danger. On the other hand, what a really fucked up way to test the freshman!

Aside from that, it's great getting more insight into not only Mason's thinking, but Brett's as well. Leo and to a lesser extent Nate usually get most of Brett's focus, so it's good to see him with the other freshies. I do think Mason would make a good president in the future. And I also think he needs to talk to Brett about those snide comments.

Also, how could you leave us with this cliffhanger! Unacceptable!

Enjoy your vacation!

[blackbound]

It does smell like the ultimate leadership test to me, but maybe that's what you want us to think...

In any case, have a much better vacation than these two are now!

[Volobond]

It's very interesting to see Brett's thought process here, but like usual, I have to admit he seems right on the money.

While all the signs are there to this being part of the test - Brett's insistence on this being a "stress free" trip, his convenient separation from Mason right before capture, and Brett's already shown ability and willingness to manipulate the environment, I don't think Mason is the kind to be fooled by stage makeup that would be used to simulate bruising and bleeding. There's always the chance this could be genuine, but Mason's ingenuity and tenacity is going to be helpful to him in this scenario.

[Guardianbound]

Having all of this happen right after Brett introduced the idea of a leadership seems too suspicious imo

But the bruises and wounds are too real!! Perhaps this is one of those high tech, secret super villain/hero tricks Brett has to test Mason. Can't wait to see what Mason comes up with to not leave Brett behind in that shack

[Wedgieboy69]

I agree. I smell a test happening here. Good thing Mason likes tests!

[_zin_]

I love this story and always enjoy catching up with the TUG Brothers.

[KidnappedCowboy]

This is not a test from TUGs. Brett's hurt badly. He and Mason were kidnapped, and Mason will have to get them out of that shed and guide Brett to safety.

This is only a test in that Mason's character, ingenuity and strength of purpose are tested. We've seen glimpses of his leadership already....remembering the escape tricks from the musclebound dudebros of YouTube, his care for Brett's wounds, and the weighing of their options for escape.

I believe Mason will bring them both safely out of the clutches of whoever is holding them, whether it's a crazed mountain man or some criminal operators they unwittingly stumbled upon. And we will witness Mason truly shining.

Well Done, @waturu14

[wataru14]

Sorry for my absence. After my trip I've been caught up with life and such. But I will be working on the next chapter soon.

[Ryankage]

@wataru14 I just finished reading all the available chapters and WOW!

This is one of the best stories I've read here. you are really talented. The base setup is a bit like mine but goes in a completely different direction.

I hope the sequel comes someday, these boys deserve a happy ending...

[wataru14]

@wataru14 I just finished reading all the available chapters and WOW!

This is one of the best stories I've read here. you are really talented. The base setup is a bit like mine but goes in a completely different direction.

I hope the sequel comes someday, these boys deserve a happy ending...

Thanks! It means a lot coming from such a great author.
And it's not exactly a "sequel," I've just been a lazy bastard and not writing recently.
That, and the site going down, too.
Sometimes I go through a creative slump and step back a bit.
But I'm working on the next chapter. I have plans to continue this for a long time.

[Bootmark]

Awesome. I really enjoy your work.
Sometimes the inspiration comes and goes. The site bring down reminded me I need to get back to work here.

[wataru14]

Well, I'm back. With the world being on fire, it's been hard to work up a motivation to do... pretty much anything, really. But the next chapter is here.



Chapter 6: The Dukes of Hazzard

The mud-splattered Jeep barreled out of the woods like Roscoe P. Coltrane himself was after them. The road wasn’t very long and the metal monstrosity was moving at top speed toward the dry riverbed (now a drainage ditch) that crossed its path a few dozen yards away. A lesser driver would have jammed on the brakes, but the massive man behind the wheel knew the terrain well and wasn’t afraid of the precipice before him. He gripped the wheel, jammed his heavy-booted foot down on the gas pedal, and gunned it.

Just before the edge, the road banked upwards. An incline that would give him all the lift he needed. In a booming basso voice, he called out “Hold on to your ass, freshman!” With a wide, expectant grin, the passenger braced himself and the Jeep launched into the air. The only sound besides the roar of the engine was the cry of “Yee haw!!!” from the passenger as they left the ground. The Jeep soared, almost in slow-motion, a full eight feet in the air, before landing on the path on the far side of the ditch with a bouncing thump. When it made contact with the dirt road again, the driver slowly decelerated and brought them both safely to a stop.

“Holy shit that was awesome!” Cody said as Hoss engaged the parking brake and turned off the ignition. “I didn’t even see that ditch until we were nearly in it!”

Hoss grinned proudly, grabbing his plastic water bottle and spitting into it. “I grew up in these woods. I know every turn, every hill, and every dry river in the county.”

Cody undid his seatbelt and hopped out of the Jeep, his cowboy boots crunching on the leaf-and-brush-covered ground. “I can’t believe this Jeep made the jump without falling apart. What is it? A 1989?”

Hoss guffawed as he stepped out of the Jeep as well. “It’s a 2004, smartass. And it don’t much matter how old it is. I keep that thing in better condition than a Formula 1.”

“I can definitely see that,” Cody said, looking around at the wooded surroundings. “Nate said you were a master with cars.”

Hoss narrowed his eyes a little as he spit into his bottle again. He and Cody had left the house about an hour and a half ago and that was the fifth time Cody had mentioned Nate. Hoss admitted he wasn’t too quick on the uptake, but even he had to know that was intentional. Cody was testing him. Goading him. That much was clear. But he, again, ignored the bait and walked around the back of the Jeep.

“That I am, buddy boy,” he said, unstrapping a cooler from the cab. “My dad was surprised I wanted to go to college at all. He thought I was gonna open up a repair shop in town after high school. And I almost did. But that was before I decided I wanted to be a cop.”

Cody nodded, impressed. While Scott was the Brother with the least direction in life, he always thought of Hoss as not too far behind. But he was pleasantly surprised to see some ambition in the big man. Maybe Nate was right. Maybe there was more depth to Hoss than he thought.

The pair crossed through a dense but short patch of woods before stepping out into a clearing. It looked like it was a local party spot since time immemorial. A stone-encircled fire pit took up the center, with stumps and fallen logs around it. Bare card tables, covered in dead leaves and battered by rain and the elements, stood off to one side. A few wide wooden planks rested against the trees across. Two hand axes embedded in the wood.

“Welcome to ‘Hazzard County,’” Hoss said as he pushed through the brush into the clearing. “People in these parts have been using it as a hangout since my grandpa’s time. Maybe even before.” He took the cooler from Cody’s hands and put it on one of the tables. He opened it, taking out two beers and tossing one to Cody without warning. Cody caught the bottle and popped the cap on the rim of a stump nearby.

“Pretty nice,” Cody said, before taking a swig. He looked around, taking in the rustic charm of the place, imagining all the parties and good times people had here over the years. “So is this where my test is? We gonna throw axes or something? Let me warn you, I’m a demon with those.”

Hoss narrowed his eyes and grunted.

“Come on!” Cody said. “That’s what this whole weekend is about, ain’t it? Brett pretty much said that flat out. And Nate and Mason said you guys have been acting real cagey-like. Like you’re observing us.”

At the mention of Mason’s name, Hoss unconsciously looked out at the woods, but quickly recovered. “Yeah, figures Nate would pick up on that. Damn boy’s so observant it’s almost creepy. So I guess there’s no need for bullshit, so I’ll be straight about it. Yeah, I’m gonna test you. We’re looking to set y’all along a path for your roles in the frat when you become upperclassmen. That’s why y’all are paired with who you are. I’m sergeant-at-arms, so that’s what we’re looking at you for.”

“Sergeant-at-arms?” Cody said, considering. “I could see myself doing that. But I could also see myself as president.”

“Yeah,” Hoss shrugged. “A lot of others do, too. This ain’t set in stone yet, it’s just an early test. But that’s what we’re doin’. I’m not much for keeping secrets, so I guess it’s best to just tell you flat out.”

“I appreciate that. So what’s my test?” Cody said. With guys like Brett and Shane around, someone like Hoss – completely devoid of pretense and hidden motives – was refreshing.

“Well,” Hoss grinned. “As sergeant you need to be able to think on your feet and diffuse thorny situations. Even when you’re outmatched. So…” Hoss put his beer down on the table and cracked his knuckles. “…you and me are gonna wrestle. I think you know what happens to the loser. Heh heh.”

Cody didn’t even wait for Hoss to spit out his dip. As soon as the words left the big man’s mouth, Cody lunged for him, a wide grin on his face.

“Gotta keep him off-balance,” Cody thought. “I’m pretty strong, but I can’t match him one-on-one. He’d tear me apart. Gotta stick and move and go low.” Hoss was unprepared for Cody’s quick strike and just barely managed to swat him away before Cody hooked his leg.

“Dayum!” Hoss chortled. “Didn’t think you had the killer instinct in ya. I’m impressed. Well, little boy, let’s see what ya got!”

---

Brett was still unconscious. Mason had been sitting with him for a while, checking for any sign of a change in his condition. Brett’s breathing was even and deep, and he was muttering softly to himself, but otherwise he was the same as when Mason untied him. In between monitoring Brett, Mason had been peering through the foliage, watching the shed from their hiding place. It had been about an hour and no one had come by.

“We can’t stay here forever,” Mason thought. “I’ve got to get us back to the cabin. But Brett can’t walk and I can’t carry him. How do I do this?”

Mason thought for a while, formulating a plan. He waited a few minutes more to make sure the coast was completely clear, and then crept out of hiding and made his way back to the shed. Keeping one eye over his shoulder, on alert for anyone unexpectedly showing up, Mason grabbed supplies and materials with great haste. When he had what he needed, he zipped back to the safety of the woods. “Time to get to work,” he whispered.

He had grabbed a pair of 2x4s, each 8 feet long. He set them down about three feet apart, on top of a thick dropcloth that he had spread out on the ground. He wrapped the cloth around the wooden beams until it was completely doubled over itself. Then he used a carpentry staplegun to secure the blanket closed. Each wooden beam was enclosed in a small sleeve, held closed by the long staples, with several layers of cloth stretched between them. “Not the best stretcher, but it will have to do,” he thought. He wasn’t very good with his hands, but he was confident it would hold together. He didn’t have Nate’s skill with crafting, but nothing could be done about that now.

The next step would be to make sure Brett wouldn’t slip out of the stretcher. Mason unraveled a long coil of thick construction-grade rope and cut it into several lengths about 15 feet long. He threaded them under the makeshift stretcher, each about a foot apart. Then, using all his strength, he dragged Brett over and laid him out on top. After making sure Brett was in a semi-comfortable position, Mason started securing him to the gurney with the ropes. He wrapped them around Brett’s body in several places, running from toes to collarbone. One was at his ankles, and then steadily up his frame at regular intervals: at his shins, knees, lap, waist, stomach, ribcage, and biceps. He had to tie them securely enough that Brett wouldn’t slip out as they walked, but not so tight that they would interfere with his breathing. It required a precise control of the tautness. A perfect balance. But detail work was right up Mason’s alley.

When he was finished, Brett looked like a damsel tied to the train tracks in an old melodrama. Almost like a sausage on the grill. It was roughshod and sloppy, not up to TUG’s aesthetic and functional standards, but there wasn’t time for that now. It would hold and that’s what was important.

“Now to get us back to the cabin,” Mason thought. “I don’t know where we are in relation to it, but Hoss said it was on the west edge of the property. We headed east on the hike, so I have to assume we’re still roughly in that direction. Mason folded up some shop towels and put them on his bare shoulders to serve as padding and then hefted the stretcher up. He put the ends of the 2x4s on each of his shoulders and held his breath. Brett’s restraints were secure enough that he didn’t slide down out of the stretcher. “Step 1 complete!” Mason thought. “Based on how the sun has moved in the last hour, west is that way.” Mason steeled himself and started slowly dragging Brett’s stretcher through the undergrowth.

---

Hazzard County looked like a tornado hit it. The couch was overturned. One table was broken. The cold firepit had been rolled over, covering both combatants in ash. But the battle still continued. Both men were drenched in sweat and their breath was heaving. Cody hit the big man high and low, sticking and moving. He would go in for a grab and it would either be swatted away or broken shortly after he cinched it. He had managed to avoid most of Hoss’ grapples, and slip out of the ones that landed. But he was getting fatigued. Tired.

At the moment, he had Hoss on his knees in a headlock from behind. Hoss’ face was red with exertion. It was clear he was tired, too. “If I go for a pin, it’ll never hold and we’ll be here till Christmas. I need to make him tap out. But how?”

Cody dropped to his own knees, lowering his center of gravity and forcing Hoss into a compact position. Knowing his opponent was far less flexible, he needed to capitalize on that and keep him hemmed in. Folded in half as he was, Hoss needed to keep his knees spread wide apart to keep himself from planting face-down in the mud. And that’s where Cody saw his opportunity. It would be risky, but it was his only chance to end this. Cody pulled one hand out of maintaining the headlock. His grip would be extremely weakened by that, but he just had to hope he could pull off what he was planning before Hoss broke free. Straining his right arm with all his might to maintain the hold, Cody shot his left hand quickly down between Hoss’ legs.

Hoss let out a roar as Cody’s hand clenched around his crotch and squeezed. Cody wasn’t proud of this tactic, but he needed to do something unorthodox and unexpected or else he’d never win. The big man shuddered for a moment. Cody couldn’t see it from the position the two were in, but a wry smile came to Hoss’ face.

At that instant, it all came crashing down. Hoss planted his hands on the ground and heaved, pushing himself up. He shot to his feet with Cody hanging on to his neck for dear life. In his shock, Cody released his grip on Hoss’ sack. The realization that it was all over hit him a second later. Hoss reached up and flipped Cody forward over his shoulder into the soft mud and jumped on top of him. His massive hands held Cody’s shoulders down. They had been tussling for nearly 30 straight minutes and Cody just didn’t have the energy to slip free.

“One. Two. Three,” Hoss’ booming basso voice proclaimed. He got up and nonchalantly walked to the Jeep while Cody laid in the mud, feeling like a truck hit him. He groaned as Hoss strutted back, dropping several coils of rope onto the ground beside him.

“Rules are rules,” Cody thought as Hoss flipped him onto his stomach with a nudge of his filthy work boot. He turned his head to keep mud from getting into his mouth as Hoss grabbed his wrists with his titanic mitts and crossed them behind his back. His eyes drifted to the coils of rope lying nearby. It was all different thicknesses. Hoss picked up a bale of standard clothesline, which Cody assumed would be for his hands, but the other bales were thicker – ranging from standard to almost a full inch in thickness. What did Hoss have in mind?

Hoss did not speak as he started looping the rope around Cody’s wrists. Horizontally, then vertically, forming a tight crosswise pattern. Hoss’ technique wasn’t the best out of the seniors, but it was good enough to keep Cody effectively immobilized. It wasn’t until Hoss started using the thicker rope on the rest of his body that he began to understand what Hoss was doing.

Mid-thickness rope was used to weave a harness around his waist and crotch. First as a sort of belt, and then winding between his legs and back onto itself. Cody has heard of such a harness. It was called a “Swiss Seat.” Normally used for mountainclimbing and rappelling, its purpose was to be an anchor point. To form a base to take stress and hold weight, distributing it evenly so stress on the body was reduced. While Cody contemplated this, Hoss used thicker rope to secure his ankles and knees. The thickest around his cowboy-booted ankles. The two separate bands were connected by thick ropes running up the sides of his legs until they were ultimately joined with the anchor tie around his waist. Almost like leg braces made entirely of thick rope.

His torso was next. Mid-thickness rope was used crossways around his pecs to trap his arms against his side. A wide swath about eight or nine rotations around his bare chest. Smaller ropes were threaded through under his armpits and around to serve as cinches holding the band in place. Assuring he could not slip it up or down and off himself. But again, that was just the base. The thickest rope was laid across his chest, up over his bare shoulders, and back down, before going up again on the other side. The developing chest harness was secured to the anchor tie at his waist, as well. When Hoss finished, Cody was fully bound, but the thicker ropes were less snug than the ones around his hands and chest. He found that a little odd.

“That should do it,” Hoss said, wiping his hands on his jeans. “Not as pretty as if Brett or Shane did it, but it’ll work. Now we’re headin’ back.” He scooped up Cody into a fireman’s carry over his shoulder and walked back over to the Jeep. Cody was deposited into the passenger seat and buckled in securely. Hoss got into the driver’s seat and started the ignition, backing the Jeep out and turning around to go back down the road.

“Don’t worry,” Hoss said. “We’re taking a different way back. I’m not gonna do the jump with you trussed like that. You’d get hurt.”

Cody was grateful for that, but he was still a little somber. He was disappointed in himself for losing the wrestling match. And he was sooooo close, too.

“That’s good to hear,” he said. “So why’d you tie me like this? You don’t seem like the type to go for complicated setups. So there must be a reason.”

“There’s a reason, all right,” Hoss grinned. “You’ll see when we get back to the house.”

“OK, big guy, keep your secrets,” Cody chuckled. “You know, Nate said…”

Hoss jammed on the brakes.

“All right. That’s enough of that,” Hoss growled. “I know he’s your roommate and you two are close. But you’ve been dropping his name all day. If you got something to say, freshman, come out and say it. Stop playing stupid games.”

“OK, fine,” Cody said. “I’ll come out and say it plain. What are your intentions toward Nate?”

“What the fuck do you mean?” Hoss said.

“I mean what I said,” Cody spat. Even though he was completely tied up in Hoss’ Jeep, he wasn’t going to back down. No matter how stupid it was to get into an argument while in this state, he was going to stand his ground. “Nate is a good kid. But he’s innocent and inexperienced. He’s never had anything even closely resembling a boyfriend before and I want to make sure he’s not getting in over his head. He’s fallen for you hard and if you don’t feel the same way, he’s gonna get hurt bad. I’m not saying ‘are you gonna marry him?’ or anything. But I need to be sure you’re just not using him for kicks and then tossing him aside. Imma warn you right now. If you break his heart, I’ll kick your ass all the way back to the farm. And I ain’t talking about no wrestling match. I mean a full-on bareknuckle country brawl.”

Hoss glared at Cody. “Is that what you think I’m after? A quick fuck or two and then kick him to the curb? Do I look like a DIX to you? I don’t know how I feel, dipshit, because this is new to me, too. I’d never even thought about being with another guy before I met Nate. But if you think I’d EVER hurt him, you’re dumber than you look, horsefucker. You know, you got a lot of balls talking to me like that. Normally if someone tries talking shit like that to me and I’d break ‘em in half. And I have half a mind to do that right now.”

“Maybe you would and maybe you wouldn’t,” Cody said. “But I’d sure as shit get a few good licks in. Better’n you’ve probably ever seen in your life. You might win, sure, but you can bet you’d get yourself a broken nose for your troubles. I almost had you a couple times in that wrestling match and that was just play. Don’t think I’d be a pushover if it was real.”

Hoss looked at Cody with fire in his eyes. And Cody met his gaze without flinching. There was an intense moment, the tension almost unbearable. And then Hoss let out a deep belly laugh.

“That ball grab tactic was something I’d never have expected from you. Genius move. On anyone else it would have worked like a dream. Now THAT’S the spunk I wanted to see,” he said, slapping Cody on the shoulder. “You’ve got some surprises in you and think on your feet. I respect that. I was right about you. You got guts AND heart. Just like I said. Danny and Scott can eat a bag of dicks.”

“They might like that,” Cody chuckled, pleased that the tension was broken.

“Scott would, that’s for sure,” Hoss said. “But not Danny. He’s kinda…” Hoss paused. “No, that’s not my place to say. Forget I said anything.”

Hoss started the Jeep back up and headed out. Cody was curious about what he had just said, but decided not to press further.

“That’s Danny’s secret,” Hoss said, picking up on what Cody was thinking. “And it’s for him to tell. But, I think that wrestling performance earned you the right to hear mine.” Cody whipped his head to face Hoss.

“I’ve always been big,” Hoss said. “Mama said I was a 10-pounder at least when I was born. But I wasn’t always the way I am now. When I first came to college I was close to 500 pounds. Probably over.”

Cody’s jaw dropped.

“Everyone had smart things to say my whole life. Why do you think they call me ‘Hoss?’ There was an old TV show my grandpa used to watch and that was the name of the fat character. He started calling me that when I was seven. When I got to school, people tried to bully me over it, but I was always strong. Kicked a lot of asses on the daily on people who shoot their mouths off. After a while, people stopped making fun but they also started avoiding me. Other than football, I was pretty much a ghost in high school.”

“College was even worse,” Hoss continued. “My freshman roommate was a real asshole and he was big enough on his own that I couldn’t just shut his mouth for him. Things got real bad. It wasn’t until TUG found me and I met Danny that things started to turn around. But it still wasn’t good at first. Because of my size, I couldn’t be tied the same way as the others. My joints couldn’t take it and some of the positions would have made me choke. So I got lesser treatment than the others did. And that really embarrassed me. They all say it’s fine, that they understood, but that wasn’t good enough for me.”

“So one day I went to Danny. He’s always been a gym rat, and he knows his stuff. So I asked him for help. He told me that he’d help me, and BOY did he ever! He set me on a diet and exercise plan and with his help I lost all that weight. He even had the new advisor whip up some kind of high-intensity protein shake for me to drink while I trained. It took two years of hard work, but with Danny’s help I managed to become what I am now and be happy with myself for the first time. So that’s my secret. It’s the reason you don’t see pictures of me from when I was a kid. Or even pictures at the frat house from before late in my Sophomore year. I don’t like lookin’ at ‘em.”

Cody was shocked at Hoss’ display of vulnerability. He had no idea that Hoss had gone through so much. He and the others all assumed that Hoss had lived an idyllic hillbilly life as the town Alpha, but they were wrong. Cody was touched that Hoss decided to share that with him.

“Thanks for telling me this, man,” Cody said. “I was wrong about you. You’re good people and I don’t have to worry about Nate with you.”

“Yeah yeah,” Hoss said, throwing a fresh wad of dip in his lip. “Look at us all bonding and shit. But don’t get too cozy, freshman. Like I said, you’re trussed like that for a reason and you’re gonna find out why real soon.” Hoss guffawed again as the Jeep continued down the path.

---

When the other pairings separately came back from their excursions, they were greeted to an odd sight from the front porch of the house. An extremely thick and sturdy rope had been secured around the crossbeam of the second floor eaves and dangled down to the story below. It came to an end in an intricate knot connecting it to a band of rope around a pair of mud-splattered cowboy-booted ankles.

Hoss had laid Cody out on the porch as soon as they got back and it was then that Cody understood why the harness was the way it was. It was designed to hold and evenly distribute weight. When the rope was tied to his ankles and Hoss hefted him up off the ground, he felt the ropes supporting him from all sides. No undue stress or discomfort, other than the odd sensation of being suspended upside-down. He actually found it quite amusing… alluring even. He hadn’t really thought about suspension as a thing before, even though he saw some of the gear while at work at Wade’s. He’d have to ask the boss about it sometime.

But it was everyone’s reactions that made the experience far more interesting to him. Shane just smirked with vague amusement. Nate and Ray were shocked and a little uncomfortable. Leo, Danny, and Scott, however, were laughing their asses off, taking pictures and teasing him. Tickling, tweaking his nipples, and slapping his belly. Cody took it all in stride. His burgeoning exhibitionist side actually found a little pleasure in it.

“Well, it’s better than the last thing Hoss brought back from the woods,” Shane smirked.

“What was that, a moose?” Danny asked.

“Moose don’t live out here,” Hoss protested. “It was a big stag deer. And I didn’t hear you complaining when Scott cooked it up.”

“Just because my bro is Gordon Fucking Ramsey that doesn’t mean it’s not weird as hell to drag a 250-pound ungulate into the house,” Danny said. “But you’re right. It was mighty tasty.”

Nate looked up at the darkening sky. “Guys, Brett and Mason aren’t back and it’s getting dark,” he said.

Shane saw that, too. “Yes, I’ve noticed,” he said. “Brett had a much longer day planned than the rest of us, but they should be back by now.”

“He’s not answering his phone, either,” Scott said. “Should we be worried?”

All eyes fell on Danny. With Brett MIA, he was the one in charge. “Yeah, I don’t like this. Someone might be hurt. Get Cody down. We’ll need him.”

Hoss undid the rope suspending Cody in the air and gently laid him on the patio. It was a group effort to free him from his bonds.

“We’re going to send out a team,” Danny said. “Hoss, Cody, Nate, and me. Hoss knows the land best, Cody knows how to move in the wilderness, and Nate’s the most likely to notice things. Shane, you and the others stay here and keep in contact in case they come back.”

“I want to come, too,” Ray said. “Mason’s like a brother to me and I can’t just sit here if there’s a chance he’s in trouble.” Shane nodded from behind Ray’s back.

Cody said, “He can take my spot. I’m good with animals, but I’m from the prairie, not the woods. I don’t know how much help I’d really be.” Ray looked at Cody, full of gratitude.

“Fine,” Danny said. “Ray, you’re in. Cody, help Shane, Scott, and Leo keep watch for them. Everyone grab flashlights. And Hoss…”

“On it,” Hoss said. He went into the house and emerged a few moments later holding a hunting rifle.

Danny nodded. “Let’s go.”



Coming Soon: Interlude - Meanwhile, in Bora Bora…

[CowboyStud]

First comment mouhahahaha..

Oh how I missed the cowboy.

Great episode!!

[Bradstick]

Oh gosh! I totally forgot about this story! I need to give it a reread and catch up!

[Socksbound]

I love the fact that after all this time and so many chapters in we can still learn new things about the guys. Getting to know more of the big man Hoss and how he came to be the senior he is today was the real highlight of the chapter.

Even better than everyone’s favourite cowboy being trussed up dare I say it

Awesome work @wataru14

[Wedgieboy69]

Worth the wait!


I get the lack of motivation. Life has took a toll on my desire to finish my next chapter too.

[gag1195]

This is why I wanted the two cowboys as a pair! The macho bonding, the intense, stubbornness, the forced by genuine confessions, the wrestling! All great!

Mason is certainly proving himself more than capable of taking care of himself and Brett, thinking on his feet and being very aware of his surroundings! My conflicted feelings have not changed- I hope this is all a fucked up test for Mason, but man, if it is, Mason deserves some revenge or at least a free pass on some chores/bondage for at least a week!

[Volobond]

Truly, it was inevitable that putting the wild Cody and the big bad Hoss together would result in truck jumpin, wrasslin, and ropin! But I love how part of their bonding was over their adjacent care for Nate!

[KidnappedCowboy]

What I love about this chapter is the continuation of the characters revealing their vulnerabilities to each other. They are becoming secure in their own skins as they secure each other in bonds. I truly believe the two are linked.

I also love the western motifs that pop up. Who wouldn't want to come back to the cabin/ranch/campsite/what have you to find a prized buck strung up like the day's catch?

[wataru14]

Finally back!


INTERLUDE: Meanwhile… In Bora Bora

“Any heroic last words?”

The volcano belched heat and smoke upwards into the air, narrowly missing the figure suspended above. A complex titanium scaffolding system had been erected on the caldera’s edge and it was slowly lowering its cargo ever downward toward the bubbling lava below.

The afformentioned cargo was a tall and muscular man dressed in blue spandex. A single white star emblazoned on his chest. He was hanging head-down, suspended by his ankles. His red-booted feet were encased in a futuristic yoke. Lights and displays embedded in the metal blinked numbers and such at irregular intervals. The suspended man didn’t know if they were actually functional or just for aesthetics. He leaned toward the latter, but such things were not on his mind right now. Impossibly heavy chains, each link more than six inches thick, enveloped his body. The weight alone would have crushed a normal man. But this was no normal man.

The slender man in the labcoat standing at the base of the winch mechanism panned his eyes down his captive’s body from toe to head. The chains around his victim were looped in several distinct sections, each kept separate. Partially this was to allow his victim some ability to wriggle (that always tickled his fancy so much), but also partially to not obscure the massive beef of the man’s physique. A band encircled his knees, and another his thick brawny upper legs. A titanium codpiece covered the victim’s nethers, and you could bet your sweet bippy that his organ was cruelly locked and caged inside it. The victim’s hands were secured behind his back with gigantic manacles that spanned from his wrists to halfway up his forearms. More chain was looped around his chest, pinning his arms to his sides and cocooning his powerful upper body. The bands were neat and perfectly straight. Beautiful as well as functional… in their own diabolical way.

The dangling man craned his neck to look up at his captor as he dropped a few feet closer to the bubbling lava. The intense heat would have already cooked anyone else. It was only his extreme durability that kept him alive.

“I won’t give you the satisfaction,” he grunted in a defiant Texas twang. “You’ll never get away with this.”

“Did you ACTUALLY just say that?” the villain cackled. “Come on! I expected better from you than something out of a 1930s western movie. Where’s that famous confidence, Diesel? Where’s that good-ole-boy pluck? I love the classics, but lines like that are making it kinda boring, I have to say.”

The victim smirked as he dipped lower. “Oh, I’m sorry,” he snorted. “I didn’t know you were expecting Shakespeare.”

“What’s a deathtrap without scintillating conversation?” the villain sneered. “If I wanted cliches I would have hooked a civilian up in this thing. At least they have the decency to scream some interesting things now and then.”

The blue-clad man actually laughed. “Is that so?” he said. “Well then, Dr. Critic, how about this? You do know how this ends, right?”

The villain yawned. “Better, but still not good. I’ve only heard that one TEN million times as opposed to the twenty million of your other line. Oh well, at least I’ll get some good Texas barbecue… even without witty repartee.”

“Sorry to disappoint,” Diesel said. “But it’s getting a little hot, even for me. So it’s time for me to get my hero on!” The massive man contracted his muscles and let out a bellow before flexing with all his might. Every muscle in his body popped and strained at once. The chains shuddered for a moment, then shattered into a million pieces that fell into the lava and were vaporized with a sickening hiss.

“Oh come on!” the villain shouted. “Chains burst at the weakest link, they don’t shatter into pieces like that! How does that even work???” But his victim was in no mood for conversation. He pulled his legs apart with a powerful thrust, cracking the yoke in two and freeing his legs. Surrounded by a ball of white light, he rose up into the air under his own power and took off like a shot, barreling at his former captor at supersonic speed. Just before he made impact, which would have smashed the man to jelly from his momentum, he cancelled his inertia in an instant and reduced his speed to a runner’s pace. He grabbed the labcoat-wearing villain by the arms and floated them both up in the air.

“Let me go, you meathead!” the villain screamed.

“You sure about that?” Diesel chuckled. By now they were several hundred feet above the caldera.

The villain looked down. “Well… maybe not…”

“So, do you admit that good always wins in the end?” Diesel smirked.

“I hate you sometimes,” the villain said, a smile appearing on his lips. “Now kiss me, you lunkhead.”

And he did. They spent some time, slightly revolving in midair while they kissed, before gently floating down to their specially prepared blanket on the secluded beach.

“It’s been amazing being here with you,” Diesel said, pouring two glasses of wine. “But... I know you wanted to stay until after the New Year, but maybe we could head back sooner than that?”

The advisor took the offered glass and drank. “Why? Homesick already? Your French has gotten pretty good. Uh… the language, I mean. You were always good at OTHER French things.”

“Ha! And don’t you forget it. I’m not homesick or anything. It’s just… aren’t you worried about the boys?”

“They’re fine,” said the advisor. “They’re on the Freshman Retreat right now. The situation on campus was completely calm when we left. Oh, that reminds me. You sent the command to the hard-light hologram generators at the cabin, right? For Brett’s excursion?”

“Yeah,” Diesel said, taking a sip of his own wine. “I set it for Grizzly Bear, just like you said.”

“Good,” the advisor replied, picking up a fruit-filled croissant. “Seeing an animal like that will be a good test of Mason’s ingenuity. Brett will get to see how he thinks on his feet as they make their way back through the wilderness to avoid it.”

“Yup, I sent the code to the machine just like you said. 16.876.32.1248. Read it from your note.”

The advisor nearly dropped his glass. “What??? 1248? That’s the wrong code!”

Diesel grabbed a folded strip of paper from his day pack nearby. “That’s what it says… look.”

The advisor snatched the page away and opened it. “That’s not a four, you dunce! That’s a nine!!!”

“Who in the hell writes 4’s like that?” Diesel said. “Don’t look like no four I ever saw. Damn, your handwriting is awful. Well, you are a doctor after all.”

Diesel chuckled, but the advisor grew pale. “What’s the matter?” Diesel asked. “OK, so the wrong scenario got loaded. What’s 1298, then? Deer? Landslide? They'll be able to handle it.”

“I wish,” the advisor said. “1298 is ‘aggressive bootleggers defending their territory.’ It’s an advanced survival scenario designed for Hoss and Danny. An extreme level of muscle and aggression is needed to complete it. If that’s what Brett and Mason got… Brett doesn’t know about that one. He’d think it’s real and then… Shit. This is bad. They could be hurt. Badly.”

“Huh?” Diesel said, jumping to his feet. “Don’t you have some kinda shutdown word? All of our little scenes do.”

“Of course I do!” the advisor said, also springing up. “But the hostiles are programmed to be stealthy and attack from surprise. Of course Brett would realize it was one of my games, but if they got him before he could say the shutdown word…”

He looked at his phone. “It’s 3 am over there right now. No one would answer if I called. I have a very bad feeling about this. We need to get back there. Immediately!”

“I can’t fly that far,” Diesel said. “That’s almost 10,000 miles! We’ll have to get a charter flight. I’ll get us to Vaitape and…”

“No time for that,” the advisor said. He punched some commands into his phone. “I have an old base near Point Nemo. R’yleh Station. Haven’t used it in years. I’m calling for a Calamity Jet. It’ll be here in four hours. Then we can fly direct.”

“I’m sorry,” Diesel said. “If Brett and Mason are in danger, I didn’t mean to…”

“It’s not your fault,” the advisor said, quickly gathering up the blanket and glasses. “If I’m blaming anyone, it’s myself. But I can beat myself up over it once we know they’re safe. I can shut down the scenario from my laptop in our villa, but that will just eliminate the ‘bootleggers.’ If they’ve already been injured… Can’t think about that right now. Get us back to the villa. We’ve got to move!”

---

Mason could barely walk anymore. Brett wasn’t as beefy as Hoss or Danny, but he was still heavy. Dragging made it easier to transport him, but Mason was still tired. Dead tired. He couldn’t go on much longer. They had to stop. He had to rest, even if it was just for a short time.

Seeing in the dark was difficult, and the tree cover blocked out most of the moonlight. There was a flashlight in the shed that he snagged before they left, but it wasn’t helping much. Thankfully, Mason managed to find a semi-sheltered nook off the trail that he could set Brett down in and get some respite from his load. Silently, he cursed himself for being weak and scrawny. Ray or Cody would have been able to transport Brett with ease. If either of them with Brett here instead of him, they’d have been back at the cabin by now.

“Leader, huh?” Mason said in frustration. He picked up a rock and angrily threw it at a tree nearby. Just to release some tension. Just then, he heard a weak groan and some labored movement from the stretcher. He snapped to attention and whirled the flashlight to illuminate it.

“Uugghhhhh…” Brett groaned. “My head… where am I?”

“Brett!” Mason gasped, running to the stretcher. “You’re awake. I thought you were in a coma or something. Are you OK? Is your vision clear? You’re not bleeding anymore, but…”

Mason stopped when he looked at Brett’s face. The chapter president looked at him without the slightest hint of recognition. “Who are you?” Brett growled. “Where are we and why did you tie me up? Let me outta this thing or I’ll…” Brett tried to sit up, but the ropes that Mason had used to tether him to the stretcher held firm. And Mason was glad they did. There was a look of desperate anger on Brett’s face and Mason knew that his friend would be attacking him with wild force if he wasn’t bound.

“Brett!” Mason said. “It’s me, Mason! Don’t you recognize…? Your head… when they hit you. Fuck!”

“Mason?” Brett barked. “I don’t know who the hell you are. But what I do know is somebody nailed me in the head and now I’m tied up in the woods. And the only one around is you. I don’t know what you want, but it’s obvious you did this to me. And I’m gonna tear you apart when I get loose.”

Brett mightily strained against his bonds, but couldn’t manage to slip them. He grunted and strained, murderous wrath in his eyes. Mason had to take a step back. This was worse than when Brett was going through withdrawals from the ring. He couldn’t recognize Brett at all. “I didn’t! You have to believe me!”

Brett grunted furiously and slumped back down onto the stretcher, his chest heaving from exertion. Then his face contorted and he let out a pained grunt, closing his eyes tightly. Mason could then see how weak Brett was. Despite his anger and posturing, he was in bad shape physically.

“Your head,” Mason gasped. “They must have hit you really hard, whoever they were. Concussion at least.” He reached over to touch Brett’s head, but the guttural snarl the chapter president made caused him to pull his hand back. “There might be swelling. Or even brain damage. We need to get you to a doctor. Right away. But…”

He looked around the darkened woods. Even in daylight he wouldn’t have any idea where they were. Let alone in the pitch black of night. “We’ve got to get moving,” he said. Ignoring Brett’s curses and threats, Mason stood up and prepared to grip the stretcher handles, ready to move. But he froze in place and his blood ran cold when he heard the sound.

“Hooooooooooooooooowllllllllll!”

Coming Soon: Chapter 7 – The Amazing Race

[gag1195]

The superpowered super sexy roleplay was fantastic! And Mason! More or less successfully handling a scenario they never even planned for him! Unfortunately (or perhaps fortunately...) I think Mason is going to have to gag poor confused Brett... His rage and cursing are not helpful in this situation. Mason's gonna have a lot of explaining to do when he finally drags a bound and gagged president to safety...