No Press Freedom In Being Taped Up and Sock-Gagged By Jocks (M+/M)

[thespy]

okay okayyy, I like where this is going. great story, cant wait to see more!! @bondagefreak thanks for the recommendation, you were right!

[kiwi]

A fantastic start!

I’m on the edge of my seat waiting to see how Hudson got himself in such a sticky situation.

Always loved the trope of the snoop getting caught for snooping a bit too hard!

[OrdinaryWorld]

Next chapter everyone!
@Pup @Pup Wingletang @Tsuhaya @Xtc @KidnappedCowboy @DeeperThanRed @Kishi @Smythdean @socjuc @gag1195 @Ossassin @Red86 @Bradstick @Sneakerlover1079 @Socksbound @4toes @Wedgieboy69 @squirrel @vincenzotognolo22 @njr @harveygasson @thespy @kiwi

My my, we've built up quite the list after just one chapter
Keep the comments flowing everyone! They make me feel good (and give me the boost needed to keep going.)

CHAPTER 2: Caught
~

For someone unaccustomed to it, overhearing the chatter of a male footy team’s banter is quite the experience.

I’ll be honest, it took me back to the glory days of high school, of the days where some of the more macho boys were more focused on insulting each other and discussing women and sports to actually listen to the lessons or do much of the schoolwork given to them.

Most of it was largely meaningless banter of course, in the variety of “Campbell your handballing was dogshit this sesh, what’s goin’ on mate!” “Fuck off Chris, I’ve got a girlfriend so I don’t need to fucken handle my balls, maybe you reek too much after training to get one, you lonely fuck” leading to a group “Ooooooh!”, which I noted down with dullness as a potential example of a toxic culture. That wasn’t enough to go off of though. No, I needed more, and so I decided to stay. Thinking back to the 20-minutes-ago version of me, – sculking the outskirts of a changing room, – that was the mistake that ruined me.

But going back to the past, I felt a strange feeling inside of me listening to these fit, masculine guys shoot the shit with each other. An odd feeling in my chest. I knew I was attracted to guys, and I had known that since Year 7, but there was just something about the joviality of the guys that was deeply intriguing and invigorating. Listening to them banter and swear without a care in the word, coupled with them having just worked their bodies during a footy training and remaining sweaty made my mind reel and chest tighten. Why?

Anyway, I overheard some salacious details, something about a party they were planning on hitting up, ‘Hm, maybe I’ll see if I can get some contacts at that party to interview after the fact’ I thought to myself, and as I was writing down what I was hearing, I failed to notice that a player had left the changing rooms and was about to turn the corner where I had parked myself.

One second.

Two seconds.

Three seconds.

“Hey what the fuck-” the late-teens-early-twenties lad remarked upon laying eyes upon me with my ear pressed to the coin-sized gap in the wall, his eyes wide as my own and his straight brown hair matted in a sweaty side part on his forehead. His eyes drifted down towards my hands cradling a phone with a text-writing app open.

Shit.

Looking over his shoulder he called out an urgent “Uh, GUYS!” and I rediscovered the use of my legs, yet their use was not as helpful as first conceived, as turning on my heels and attempting a dash (opposed to staying put and explaining myself) resulted in my hunter bolting towards me, determined to not let his prey out of sight. I heard a definitive “Gotcha, fucker” as his body crashed into mine, his arms wrapped tightly around my body in a crushing bearhug, determined to not let me go, while his teammates filtered out of the changing rooms confused as to the commotion outside.

Flynn, whom I knew from a distance thanks to his mild notoriety and my own investigations, was the very first out followed by the rest of the team in the changing rooms – thankfully a figure of only about five, formed a semicircle keen to get a look at the event unfolding right in front of them.

“Jasper what in the shit is going-” he had begun to say, before he breathed out a mildly surprised “Oh.”

The guy around me – whose name I now knew was Jasper – attempted to clarify the bizarre situation we had been found in, explaining in short, clipped sentences that he saw me with my ear pressed against the wall, listening in and on my phone typing something. My eyes darted around, and I realised that beyond Flynn I recognised one of the players. Chris. The man who I had been in communication with for a few weeks prior in order to get insider information. Why was he here? Our eyes met, and he swiftly looked away.

Flynn’s triumphant grin sullied my fate, along with his cheering words of “Well boys, I think we might’ve just found our snooper from EI!” The rest of the guys let out sounds of both celebration and incredulity, and I felt my situation deteriorating by the second. One of them (who I did not know just yet but would come become familiar with in the future) piped in with a “Shit, we need to get him in the changing room right now”

“What? And do what exactly?”

“Fucked if I know, but we can’t have this,” he said gesturing to the Jasper-Hudson mass, “happening out here.”

“Flynn?”

“Campbell’s right, get him inside the changing rooms right now. Jasper, keep your hand over his mouth and deal with his top half, I’ll deal with his bottom half, alright? MOVE.”

My opinion and desires were given no heed. I was their ward, their captive, unable to do a thing to ameliorate my own situation. Upon the news that I’d be carried into the dragon’s den of the changing room my thrashing intensified, and I attempted to call out to someone, anyone to help. All it resulted in was their grip on me tightening, Jasper’s hand fastening to itself to my mouth even more firmly, and Flynn primally growling out a “Shut the fuck up, cunt” dripping with derision.

Desperate to not focus on my situation at hand, I drew my eyes to Flynn. Photos on social media are one thing, but seeing someone in person was a whole different experience. Flynn was a stud. His brown middle-part was messy, and his facial structure was, I had to admit, remarkably masculine and attractive. And his biceps! Wow, now they were great.



I was fucked, and about to be carried to my doom in the changing rooms. That was my lot. As I was being half-carried-half-dragged, I overheard in the commotion Flynn murmuring… something to Chris. With the ambient noise, I was only able to pick up a cryptic “Well done” and “plan.”

~

I was dropped into the grimy storage closet, but with Jasper warning everyone in a mildly panicked tone “Guys, if we’re doing this, I can’t just have my hand over his mouth this whole time.”

Flynn put his hand on his forehead and let out a mildly exasperated “Shit, well, Chris? Cam?” Chris, silent previously, somewhat meekly reminded everyone to the presence of the roll of duct tape on one of the storage closet shelves. With Flynn giving his approval, the roll of tape was grabbed, and I – out of involuntary fear if anything, – desperately shook my head and let out a muffled “No, no!” It didn’t matter.

As Flynn’s fingernail scratched at the tape’s beginning, Campbell pointed out with a cruel smirk and head tilt that tape wouldn’t be enough given my mouthiness and distress. “What, you want to stuff something in his mouth? I don’t think there’s a spare rag in here” Jasper remarked, his eyes searching the storage closet’s interior and coming up empty.

“Yeah, nah that’s fine,” Campbell began, “we can use a sock.”

The small crowd’s reaction was immediate. Surprised laughter erupted from Jasper and two of his teammates at a suggestion so bizarre and out there. Myself? I was completely and utterly horrified. There was NO WAY in HELL I was going to let the worn sock of some random athlete I didn’t even know find its way into my mouth. No way! Both Chris’ and Flynn’s eyebrows raised themselves, although for the former it was accompanied with widened eyes, and the latter replied with “…a sock?” His voice marked by trepidation and suspicion.

“Yes! It’ll keep the fag-” I made my objection to the slur clear, “-shut up, it will keep him quiet for the time being. We could use one of mine,” Campbell responded.

Jasper went “You can’t just- mate! Really?!” while continuing to chuckle.

“What? You want to use your own?” Campbell challenged, leading to Jasper backing down and Campbell sauntering over to what I could presume was his gym bag. Unzipping a side pocket, he pulled out a worn and unpleasant-looking sock. Flynn let out a “FUCK me mate, that looks BAD, what the fuck?!”



Campbell defended himself with a quick laugh and some quick wit and shot back by going “Hey! It’s been a few days, and fuck it’s not like yours are any better.”

Meanwhile, what was going on made me desperately wish a sinkhole opened up below me and swallowed me whole, because what I saw was a cocky Campbell who knew that I couldn’t do a damn thing to oppose him. And he was carrying that dreaded sock towards Jasper and me.

“Hudson, right? We can make this easy or hard, what’s your choice?” He questioned me with delight. No. I refused to take this. This situation was simply unacceptable.

“Fuck you,” I spat back.

“Oh well, I guess it’s the hard way then, hey?”

And he pressed his worn foot rag up against my lips.

[njr]

What a cliffhanger, thanks for another great chapter I have a suspicion where this is going, but can’t wait to actually read it…

[squirrel]

grabbed, hand gagged, held prisoner by a group of guys... it's just a dream come true scenario

[gag1195]

There's something kind of endearing about the guys being as out of their depths as Hudson seems to be. No plans, no thinking, just action and quick fixes in the duct tape and the sock gag decision!

[Xtc]

Going well and, it seems, in the English language. (Just a little dig at American English )

[vincenzotognolo22]

Very nicee, can’t wait to read how the gagging scene continues. Great job

[Bradstick]

Nice continuation! They know who he is and his role in the press. That is going to be hard to explain, if they ever let him talk. I’m excited for the next chapter.

I love the picture you added. I am a sucker for stories with images in them. They really liven it up. Great work!

[socjuc]

Great chapter!!....Well... Hudson's going to be eating Campbell's yummy sock Momentarily

[OrdinaryWorld]

There's something kind of endearing about the guys being as out of their depths as Hudson seems to be. No plans, no thinking, just action and quick fixes in the duct tape and the sock gag decision!

Thanks for noticing that!
I think some authors/readers fall into the trap of assuming that all guys in these stories are as kinky (and experienced) as we are
I was trying to write a chaotic, confused atmosphere to communicate that, and it seemed to have worked

Going well and, it seems, in the English language. (Just a little dig at American English )

Hah, well, the one TRUE English to me is Australian English, so that's what I write in
Good amounts of cross-over with British English, but still with some unique Australian flair haha

Nice continuation! They know who he is and his role in the press. That is going to be hard to explain, if they ever let him talk. I’m excited for the next chapter.

I love the picture you added. I am a sucker for stories with images in them. They really liven it up. Great work!

Cheers!
I'm a sucker for photos too. They can add so much (and make the story so much more horny lmao).

[Pup Wingletang]

Seems like they had a plan to lure our reporter but maybe less of a plan as to what to do with him once they caught him. Thankfully they seem to be muddling through!

I also like our reporters mixed up feeling about the hyper masculine world of the football locker room.

I'm pretty sure British English is just called English!

[OrdinaryWorld]

Seems like they had a plan to lure our reporter but maybe less of a plan as to what to do with him once they caught him. Thankfully they seem to be muddling through!

I also like our reporters mixed up feeling about the hyper masculine world of the football locker room.

I'm pretty sure British English is just called English!

Glad you're liking it so far!

Mr Wingletang you say yoghurt as 'yogget' you are hence an untrustworthy source on the English language

[Pup Wingletang]

Mr Wingletang you say yoghurt as 'yogget' you are hence an untrustworthy source on the English language

Surely better than sounding like you are trying to attract the attention of someone called Gurt! And that's really a Turkish word anyway...

[GoBucks]

Thanks for the tag, I am loving this!

[60Cancer]

Now here comes the $64,000 question. How do they handle the reporter?

[Socksbound]

I’m actually surprised they aren’t more versed in tying someone up given their reputation on campus, but I do like the chaotic nature of events that transpired.

Feels like they lured him there but weren’t sure what to do when the plan worked

[thespy]

"Okay, now what?" is literally the question they all have, I like this messy situation; jocks after all.

[bondagefreak]

@OrdinaryWorld
Great continuation, my friend! You're on a roll it seems.
As for our not-so-lucky student reporter, yikes! Sounds like he bit off more than he could chew.
Nice setup, Chris! Now let's stash him and keep the little punk out of the way Well done.

[Snozzberry]

How long does it take to do investigative report on a pair of dirty, smelly, highly infectious gym socks that have been taped and gagged into your mouth while you are tied up in a closet? 🌪

[Snozzberry]

"FUCK YOU" doesn't really seem to be an appropriate response as your mouth is about to be filled with dirty, smelly gym socks worn by a jock whose main purpose in life is growing Foot Yogurt and Toe Jam for a living.

[jammer212]

Cant wait to see how this story progresses dude

[OrdinaryWorld]

Cant wait to see how this story progresses dude

Great to hear it! Will get a start on the next chapter either today or tomorrow

[bondagefreak]

Good! Wouldn't want to start a public uprising now, would we?

[OrdinaryWorld]

@Pup @Pup Wingletang @Tsuhaya @Xtc @KidnappedCowboy @DeeperThanRed @Kishi @Smythdean @socjuc @gag1195 @Ossassin @Red86 @Bradstick @Sneakerlover1079 @Socksbound @4toes @Wedgieboy69 @squirrel @vincenzotognolo22 @njr @harveygasson @thespy @kiwi @bondagefreak @60Cancer @jammer212 @GoBucks

We're back!
I've decided I'll start doing chapter titles, I'll go back and add chapter titles to the previous two chapters.
Hope you enjoy this installment

Remember to leave comments! They keep this forum alive, and give me the motivation to keep going with this story!

CHAPTER 3: Breaking News - Shit
~

I initially refused to accept the unwanted intrusion – who wouldn’t? It was a sock worn by some cocky young athlete who clearly does not change his socks often enough, spending hours upon hours catching all the secretions of said jock’s foot.

I clenched my teeth together forming a wall of bone, with both the upper and lower rows grinding against each other hard enough that I was concerned that a tooth would split. Jasper let out a slightly panicked “Farken’ get it in there!” who was increasingly struggling to hold my thrashing head still enough for the blond stud to do the infernal, humiliating deed.



“For FUCK’S sake,” Campbell muttered out of sheer exasperation at my refusal to comply, “open up, Jesus Christ.”

Reverting from his status as ‘onlooker-with-front-row-seats’, Flynn stopped leaning against the brick wall and suggested pinching my nostrils shut to force the sock in, resulting in me running out of oxygen should I not agree to grant entry to the formerly-white sock tormenting my nostrils and horrifying my eyes. Campbell hmphed but assented to his captain’s helpful recommendation, bringing his fingers to my nose and forcing it closed.

It only took 10 seconds for me to relent and allow the sock in. First, I heard disparate laughter, punctuated with some exclamations of disgust and surprise, all the while I was staring up at Campbell’s, admittedly handsome, face. Then, my tongue was tormented with the sensation of cloth and salt, and my nostrils being freed allowed me to get an actual taste.

It did not agree with me, and I groaned out for help. Campbell stepped back to stand next to Flynn.

“Well, isn’t this something,” Flynn chuckled.

And that is what brings us up to the present time. Me, at the mercy of a bunch of amped up footy boys, with a gross sock in my mouth, my body encased in duct tape, and feeling well and truly fucked.

“So, Hudson, we’ve got you now, and we plan on getting all the information we need out of you, along with getting you to stop the story. You understand me?”

“Yeah, but Flynn,” Chris states as he broke his vow of silence, my eyes burning into him – making him squirm, “this isn’t great either, we don’t know when someone will walk past the door, there’s always people pissing about outside.” At the sight of another hurdle, Flynn sighs and runs a hand through his hair. “Just-” the captain says as he clenches his eyes shut, “Let’s just bring him up to the equipment room upstairs. No cameras in that section and, like, no people.”

In a complete and utter blur, one of the footy boys parked himself outside the changing rooms in order to make sure the coast was clear, so to speak. The rest of the ‘boys’ handle dealing with and carrying my taped-up form, heaving me into the air and carrying me like a very large sack of potatoes. I am naturally powerless, with any screams rendered moot by the malodourous cloth filling up my mouth.

In a bizarre-looking affair, I am awkwardly carried up the stairs to the second floor, the discussion involved with this featuring many colourful interjections.

“Don’t worry if his head bumps against something, he’ll be fine” from the man whose sock currently occupied my mouth.

“SHIT this is tricky, Chris watch your fucken’ arm-” Jasper interjects, throwing a look at the teammate he was addressing.

And a final “Boys can youse just shut the fuck up and stop making so much noise? Get him up the fucken’ stairs” from Flynn.

From there, the chatter dies down and I am fucking terrified. I have been captured by a bunch of footy boys who are hellbent on doing… something to me because of this damn article, and now they are bringing me to an unmonitored area. I don’t know what is going on, but I don’t like it at all. My heart is pounding and thumping out of a horrifying mix of anxiety, anticipation, and genuine fear for my physical wellbeing.

Finally, they reach the equipment storage room with me in tow. From my awkward position of being carried into the room head-first, face staring up at the ceiling, I am able to twist my head around just a bit. Like the closet in the changing room, it is dim. The half-dead fluorescent lighting covers the room in shadows, and equipment is strewn about in organised chaos. While it was not a forgotten room, it had clearly not received proper care in years. My taped-up body is dropped onto the floor rather unceremoniously, cushioned by some thin mat.

Flynn is naturally the first to speak, peering down at me with contempt and derision as if he was looking at a messily dropped lunch, rotting on the side of one of the campus footpaths. “Look, Hudson, we’ve been able to find out about the bloody EI story you’ve been working on. You need to fucken drop it,” the authoritative captain speaks down at me, his brown locks dangling down in a way that, shamefully, looked absolutely irresistible to me.

Jasper, ever the nervous intellectual of the group it would appear, points out that my mouth was still gagged and so couldn’t respond. Campbell very bravely volunteers himself to resolve the situation, and upon Flynn’s nod and mmmm of approval kneels at my head, pointing a finger at my widened and fearful eyes.

“I’m about to take the tape off and my STINKY fucken sock-” I cringe with his emphasis on that word, suddenly reminded again of the disagreeable flavours assaulting my tongue “-out of your goddamn mouth, and I swear to god if you make a single FUCKEN noise, we’re going to keep you with us for a lot fucken longer than planned, alright?”

I remain absolutely paralysed with trepidation and fear, to the point that I utterly fail to recognise that this cruel tormentor with a serious, hard visage and a biting snarl is searching for a response from me. I understand my trespass when he brings his face closer to my own and yells “Alright?!”
Wishing to avoid further pain and punishment, I quickly nod my head and give out a muffled “Mmmmmph! Mmph!”

Smugly and proudly blowing air out of his nose, Campbell responds with a simple yet definitive “Good, cunt.”

It is then that the unravelling of the tape securing my inability to speak and the sock within my orifice begins. Methodically, each revolution is undone, while the other guys do their own things. Jasper and two of the other boys – whose names I don’t know yet – are chatting about some random shit and laughing. Flynn is standing, watching Campbell go about his task, while Chris stares absently at my body, listlessly smiling occasionally at whatever the group of three are talking about but otherwise doing nothing. Odd behaviour.

Did Chris rat me out? Was this his plan all along? While my head swirls with theories, my face flushes red with humiliation, my cheeks burning. The fact that I am so vulnerable and under the control of someone else feels utterly embarrassing. I’ve always done my own thing, separate from others. Got part-time work on my own accord in high school, studied without prompting, got elected to be one of the journos on EI. This sheer and complete loss of control? Utterly foreign, and practically my whole body was going haywire.

But above all, my chest feels like it will explode, with it tightening akin to that feeling of something I got earlier when I was caught snooping. I try to will it away and clench my eyes closed, but the mental images of what is happening to me and the guys doing it to me don’t leave. They don’t. Fucking. Leave.

Finally, the last strip of tape is ripped away from my mouth in a short and sharp sting. I cry out, before Flynn roughly kicks my side before commanding me to keep quiet. I do, but not without a last mmmph, my defiance still active like the morning ember of a fire that went out the night before.

Campbell rather crudely forces his middle and index fingers into my mouth, before grabbing a hold of the sock and drawing it out, slowly, with his eyes staring straight into mine. The team erupts into a chorus of ‘Maaaate!’ and ‘Ughhh’ and ‘Fucken vile.’ Even Chris seems to force out a laugh of sheer disbelief, with Flynn beside him is jovially laughing. I do not dare to scream, genuinely afraid that I will have the shit beat out of me if I do. Campbell eyes the now-soaked sock with apprehension and disgust, before balling it and shoving it into his pocket.

“Right!” Flynn says as he claps his hands together “We may start now.”

“Hudson,” he continues, “listen to me very clearly here, I don’t know what fucken bullshit you’re trying to pull with this shit, but it needs to end. You need to stop working on this damn story, or things are going to get very ugly between us.”

My mouth dry and still containing gross cotton fibres from the sock, I reply: ”You cannot seriously expect me to drop this, I’ve put so much work into this!”

Unsatisfied with the answer, Campbell delivers a strong and hard slap, making an audible noise and leaving my cheek stinging worse than when the tape was pulled off. I genuinely cannot stop myself from letting out a yowl of both shock and pain.

“Campbell!” Flynn starts, reprimanding his teammate with, “can you not fucken do bullshit when I’m trying to do this?! I know we’re friends mate, and you’re just as pissed off as I am about this, but I’m in control of this and you need to let me do what I need to do.”

In a stunning display of humility, Campbell relents and apologises, and an unperturbed Flynn looks at me.

“Drop the fucking story Hudson, I don’t think I’m being extremely unreasonable here, you know that most of what you’ve gotten is just random people saying shit.”

I protest with a “I’ve got good sources, you have no idea how journalism works!”

Flynn snaps back, twisting his proverbial knife in my skin by saying “What, good sources like Chris?”

The room is silent. A few seconds pass before Flynn continues, not letting me reply.

“I swear to god Hudson we will happily fuck you up, drop the fucking story.”

“Jesus, wait, can you let me publish an edited version? It’ll leave this and the worst stuff out, so you stay clean, and I get my story?” I say, attempting to counter him.

“No!” He cries with indignance, “no story at all, don’t fucking test me here.”

My resolve gets closer to the edge, and I am desperate to get out of this claustrophobic room and get back home.

“The uni! I can so easily report you to the uni!”

“Like fuck you will! You want to really fuck yourself? This whole team is like 20 people, and you’ll be stuck in bureaucracy. You of all people know how slow and shit the uni admin is, you write articles about that shit!”

Dammit.

God fucking dammit.

“Fine! Fine, I’ll drop it just please let me go!” My whining sounds pathetic, and like I have severely debased myself. I feel ashamed, but I know this is what I need to say to end this.

“Not yet,” Flynn ominously states, “everyone, get out now and close the door.” Chris looks at Flynn, utterly confused. The rest act the same, apart from the lone surprised laughter, and Campbell letting out an utterly perplexed “What?” For the first time, I feel a striking solidarity with Campbell, our faces looking at each other mirroring the same expression.

“You fucken heard me, get out, NOW!”

The other mutter their begrudging agreements, filtering out of the room. Campbell, the last one, looks back, glances at the both of us, and closes the door. With the both of us alone, Flynn looks down at me with what can only be described as hate and disgust.