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Dawson Cran
Age 18
Nerdy Gamer
College Freshman
Mechanical Engineering
Evan Bullock
Age 18
Hockey Player
College Freshman
Engineering
Journal Entry #1
If you are reading this, that means that I am already gone .... or maybe you just stole my journal. If so, shame on you!
Sorry, that was just me trying to be funny. I suck at introductions, but here goes.... My name is Dawson Cran. I am eighteen... well, almost eighteen.
Sorry. Anyway, I just arrived at college this afternoon. It would be an understatement to say that I am a little freaked out right now. My anxiety is off the chart. My therapist says that keeping a journal like this will help. Here goes.
My mom, step dad Tom, and little sister Ellie dropped me off at my dorm this afternoon. I would have been fine with being dropped off out front, but you know Mom. She insisted on helping me carry everything inside, seeing my new dorm room and meeting everyone.
After checking in at a table in the lobby, we went upstairs to find room 312. All the doors we passed were decorated with hand drawn signs listing the occupants' names. Sure enough, as we got to 312, the sign read, "Dawson and Evan."
As we walked inside, I was relieved to find that my roommate was not there yet. I love my mom more than anything, but she just isn't the first impression I want to make. By the time she left, She would have known everything about Evan while probably sharing every embarrassing fact from my life along the way.
She is already on a first name basis with my R.A., Doug, who calls himself "The Dougler." She even follows him on social media now. I am sure that will somehow come back to bite me at some point.
I get it, though. No matter how old I get, I will always be her baby boy. It was just the two of us till I was eleven when she met Tom. Aside from a few weekends at scout camp when I was a kid and the eighth grade trip to Ottawa, this is the first time we will not be sleeping under the same roof. This isn't much easier for me either.
Our room is basic, but as expected. It's a symmetrical layout. Two single beds, two desks, two dressers, and two closets. I am sure that with a few posters and personal effects, it won't seem so sterile and institutional.
Being a very old dorm building, it has common washrooms and showers for each floor. I was not thrilled to learn about that part. At least the showers were individual stalls and not one big open shower like the change room we had at Parkview High.
After a teary goodbye, I was left alone to set up my half of the room.
Tomorrow is some freshman orientation event, followed by a mixer in the common room at the dorm. I am dreading both. They sound horrible and far too peopley for me. Classes don't start until Tuesday. I may just hide here and play Zombie Killer 3 till then.
I haven't met Evan yet, but we did have to exchange letters about us already. He is on a hockey scholarship. Apparently, he is some sort of prodigy. I bet he thinks that he is the next Dave Gretzky or something. I am fully expecting him to be some sort of egotistical douchebag meathead jock. His major is engineering, the same as mine. I assume that's why they put us together. He better not expect me to do all his homework for him!
My letter to him was much more bland and a little fake. I basically sold myself as a normal average teenager. We all like to think that we are all normal in our own eyes, right? So Evan is expecting an average 17 year old, 5'10" tall, 140 lbs honor roll student that's majoring in mechanical engineering and loves gaming.
If I was being totally honest, I probably would have said that I am a very shy, extremely introverted, unpopular, slightly nerdy virgin. Oh, and I have a secret obsession with reading online stories about being tied up, hazing, and bullying. Unfortunately, that wasn't much of a sales pitch, so I left that out.
I know, I am a little hard on myself. Besides, when I think back four years ago to the terrified kid that was just starting high school, the transformation has been huge. Imagine a fourteen year old, short, skinny, acne & brace faced, nerdy Harry Potter junkie with the matching glasses. How did I not get my scrawny butt kicked daily is beyond me.
The acne has almost completely cleared up. The only evidence of the braces is the wire of my retainer when I smile. Although five foot ten isn't huge, it's not short either. I have traded Hogwarts for Marvel, which is slightly less nerdy, I guess. A fancy new haircut and more mature looking glasses complete my "glow up."
Satisfied with today's journaling, I moved on to my favorite pastime, checking Deviantart and tieupgames.com for new content. Fully lost in tales of bondage themed frats, wedgied nerds, and tormented freshmen, I was just about to reach for the moisturizer and begin indulging in my other favorite pastime, when I was snapped back to reality by The sound of the Douglers voice outside my room.
"You must be Evan. Welcome to Chilton Hall, " cheered the glorified camp counsellor.
I quickly closed my laptop and tried to act as normal as possible.
Good, bad or otherwise, I was about to come face to face with the person that I would be living four feet away from for the next nine months. Wish me luck!
Thanks for taking the time to read my work. For those don't follow me, this is actually the first story I have written in the "stories for adults" section. I guess just like Dawson, I am moving out of my comfort zone, and growing up. Hopefully the transition of writing style goes much smoother than our young friend's transition to college life.
I have the first 4 chapters mostly figured out in my head.
I plan on this being a long term story, with many chapters released over time. I don't plan on rushing this, so I apologize if there is long delays between new releases.
Thanks again, and I hope you enjoy following along.
Last edited by Wedgieboy6910 months ago, edited 7 times in total.
Nice start. I like the first person view in stories. I also like how slow it starts, that there is no action, no bondage to be seen. Don't mind this feedback too much, if you have plans, follow them.
I personally don't care much about polls in stories, because I always have to describe my opinions in more detail anyway. Like here, because I don't dislike them either. But that's just me.
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FelixSH wrote: 1 year ago
Nice start. I like the first person view in stories. I also like how slow it starts, that there is no action, no bondage to be seen. Don't mind this feedback too much, if you have plans, follow them.
I personally don't care much about polls in stories, because I always have to describe my opinions in more detail anyway. Like here, because I don't dislike them either. But that's just me.
Thanks for the feedback. It's always appreciated.
The first chapter and a half, or two chapters are going to be slow as I do some character development. Being that neither of these characters have been in my other stories, I feel the need to properly introduce them first. The next three or so chapters I have planned after that will be fairly action packed.
Two engineering students, one a hockey jock, the other a nerdy gamer sharing the same dorm. What could possibly go wrong (or maybe right) with that. Especially if Evan discovers Dawson's secrets
From the second that Evan stepped foot in our dorm room, I was smitten. Ok, that sounded weird. I didn't mean it like that. I am straight. I like girls, even if none of them are interested in a loser like me. But I definitely have a man-crush on my new roommate. He is just so cool, interesting, and confident, and he is super nice. Yes, he is athletic and muscular, but he is also down to earth. He isn't the mean dumb jock that I feared.
Although he is only six foot two, it feels like he towers over me. His 220 lbs of muscle do make me look extra scrawny in comparison.
We actually have a lot in common. He also likes Marvel movies and plays Zombie Killer 3, too! He is like the brother I always wanted.
He does have an annoying habit of getting me to do things that I don't want to do. This evening, he somehow convinced me to hang out in the common room and watch a hockey game on TV with people from our floor. I hate sports and people.
He even made me promise to come watch his game next week. How does he do that?!
Journal Entry # 3
I have discovered a direct correlation between your home life and how quickly you adjust to dorm life.
Evan is the middle of three boys. He has always shared a bedroom. He has grown up being half naked around other guys in locker rooms while playing various sports. He doesn't think twice about changing in front of me or walking around the hallways half dressed. He is a hell of a lot more confident about his body than I am. He has been preparing for dorm life literally his whole life.
I, on the other hand, have been in for a culture shock this week. I was an only child until Ellie was born 5 years ago. I have always had my own room. The only time I ever spent undressing around others was in gym class during junior high and high school, and I was never overly comfortable with that, to be completely honest.
The first couple days in the dorm, I was going into a stall in the washroom to change. After seeing Evan change in front of me in our room like it was no big deal, I tried it today.
Immediately, I heard my roommate laughing and felt a sharp tug on the back of my underwear. I spun around and looked at my attacker in horror. The quick wedgie was not overly painful but very humiliating and quite unexpected.
"Tighty whities? I didn't think anyone actually wore them, well like, other than in cartoons, and nerds on TV." Teased Evan.
Seeing the panic and embarrassment on my face, he quickly apologized, "Sorry, bro. I was just messing with you. "
"It's ok," I mumbled. I was emotionally confused. I was a little freaked out, but also slightly excited and maybe a little aroused. It was not my first wedgie, but it was the first one from someone else in years.
I know in all the fictional stories I read, the tighty whities wearer is someone that never switched to boxers in their early teens like most boys do.
Embarrassingly, my story isn't the cliche. I never wore them as a young child. I wore boxer briefs my whole life. I switched to white briefs around sixteen because of my secret obsessions with wedgies. By that point, I had stopped taking gym class at school, and sadly, no girls were seeing my underwear either. I never actually thought that wearing them in real life would actually lead to me receiving a wedgie from someone.
The shy and easily embarrassed person in me is screaming to stop letting Evan see me change. The wedgie obsessed horny teen in me is hoping for more.
Journal Entry # 4
I screwed up huge! Evan caught me staring at him while he was getting changed. He was only wearing a fairly revealing pair of snug fitting blue boxer briefs. He didn't say anything, but it was super awkward after.
He must think that I am gay or super creepy... or both! I didn't mean to, but I was just distracted by how chiselled and cut his chest was. He isn't too huge like a bodybuilder, just perfectly toned. Now he is going to tell everyone that I was checking him out! I am going to be labelled "the perverted roommate". I am going to be even more of an outcast!
How do I begin to explain to him that I am not attracted to him, just extremely envious and jealous of his perfect body?
Journal Entry # 5
I just had the most amazing conversation with Evan! He mentioned that he is nervously anticipating some sort of rookie hazing from the school hockey team.
Officially, the University of Kingstown forbids hazing, but they often get around the rule by calling it a rookie training camp or using special drills designed for team building.
He told me that with his high school team, the worst that ever happened was having to carry the senior players' gear to and from the bus for them. It was more of a right of passage than an initiation ritual.
This was going to be different. He had heard stories from friends that had played for college teams before.
One story was where rookies had to wear adult diapers at practice. The outside parts of baby pacifiers were even glued to their mouth guards.
Another former teammate told him about having to skate with a shoulder wedgie. The drills picked for that particular practice were all designed to get maximum pain and discomfort from the wedgied underwear.
The best tale, however, was where if the team lost, the rookies suffered. If it was a home game, they were made to walk back across campus to the dorm's wearing only their jockstraps. If the loss was on the road, the rookies were stripped, hogtied, and gagged with their own freshly used socks or jock for the bus ride home.
I have never been so interested in college hockey before. I could only dream of being a fly on the wall when Evan's time comes. I hope he tells me every last detail.
Best of all, he hasn't said anything more about catching me staring at his amazing body yesterday. I hope it never comes up again.
Maybe Dawson can see if the hockey team is looking for an equipment manager or coach's assistant. Give him an in with the team and a chance to see (or be part of) the hazings up close!
Here comes "the storm". Thanks for following along so far. The comments are always encouraging and appreciated. I know the first two chapters were slow. I hope you think it was worth the wait.
Chapter 3 - Bound To Be Memorable (Part One)
Journal Entry #3
I know I have missed writing for most of this week. Things have just been crazy with classes starting.
My professors seem great. The lectures are long, and there's a lot of information to take in at once. I am trying my best to take it all in while making good notes at the same time.
I wish I could say that I am adapting to dorm life just as well. The lack of privacy and personal space is taking some getting used to.
I originally assumed that my dorm room would be my safe space to hide away from the chaos of the campus. Unfortunately, it seems that every time I go back to our room, there is another sock on the doorknob. I am forced to spend most of my free time in the library, as the people hanging out in the dorm's common room are far too social for me.
Maybe I am justifiably upset about being forced from my room constantly, or maybe I am just a little jealous that Evan is living his best college life while I am not. The closest I have come to talking to a girl is when a cute blond asked me for directions yesterday. I am pretty sure I sent her in the completely wrong direction, though.
Tomorrow is my 18th birthday. At least this year, my mom can't drag me to some chain restaurant where the waitstaff sings happy birthday to me, while everyone else in the place stares at me awkwardly. I hate that. My birthday wish is to not be the center of attention. Since it falls on a Saturday this year, I just want a nice quiet day, IN MY ROOM, playing Zombie Killer 3. Mom and Tom have even offered to pay for Skip the Dishes for dinner.
Journal Entry #4
I just experienced the most messed up twenty-four hours imaginable. This was definitely not a birthday that I will soon forget.
I finished eating the shawarma that Mom and Tom bought me for dinner. I was hanging in the room, playing ZK3 with Evan and our neighbor Mason. I was on a triple diamond kill streak.
The Dougler knocked on the door, and Evan let him in. "I just saw your mom's post on Instagram. Happy birthday brother", said our R.A.
"It's your birthday?" Asked Mason.
"Happy birthday, Bro!" Cheered Evan.
"Ya. Thanks." I replied bluntly, without taking my eyes off the game.
The Dougler teased, " You were a cute little kid. What happened?" As he showed my friends the photos that my mother had posted online.
"I see someone used the dorkious maximus spell on young Harry Potter," teased Mason.Â
"I bet even the chess club beat you up for your lunch money," joked Evan.Â
Frustrated with the distraction, I growled, "trying to game here!"
Everyone seemed to get the hint and left me alone to game in peace. I didn't mean to be rude. Sometimes, we all need a little peace and quiet.Â
Had I bothered to attend The Dougler's floor meeting earlier in the week, I would have known just how screwed I was about to soon be. Unfortunately, I had decided to avoid human interaction that evening and stayed in my room to play ZK3 instead.Â
Had I been aware of Chilton Hall's long-standing birthday tradition, I would have gladly chosen to go home for the weekend. I would have much rather spent breakfast, lunch, and dinner being publicly serenaded by tone deaf restaurant staff.Â
A group of five or six guys from the dorm charged through my door led by my roommate. I was quickly tackled to the ground as my swivel office chair toppled over. I landed face up on the floor, my body and limbs pinned down by my many teenage attackers.Â
As I bucked and thrashed in my unsuccessful attempts to break free, my senses were immediately overwhelmed by the masculine stench of body odor. I would later learn that Evan and Mason had recruited a group of our neighbors who had been taking advantage of the beautiful fall weather with an impromptu game of football on our front lawn.Â
As the dog pile ensued on top of me, I heard Evan ordering a halt to my assault. Once the chaos stopped, Evan carefully removed my glasses and gaming headset, passing them off for safe keeping. As soon as the athletic Adonis shouted, "Game on!" The may lay reignited.Â
I felt my t-shirt being aggressively ripped off my body and violently yanked over my head. I shouted and screamed at my attackers to stop, but was quickly silenced by a very firm hand gag. Evan's sweaty palm smothered my genuine protests. The hockey god now straddled my bare chest.Â
He had a strange smile on his face as he looked down at me from his superior vantage point. The look on his face said both that I could trust him to ultimately keep me safe while also telling me that I was royally screwed.Â
At this point, I still did not know what was really going on. All this seemed a little overboard for me being a little rude to them while they mocked my photos as I tried to game in peace.Â
I felt my socks being yanked off my feet and twitched as fingers grazed my sensitive souls. I immediately heard Mason's voice cheer, " He's ticklish! Get him!"
Instantly, what felt like a million fingers attacking my feet, ribs, and pits. I howled and begged into my roommates' ironclad hand gag. Despite my thrashing around like a fish out of water, I was unable to break free from the hands that firmly held my limbs.Â
This quickly created a very awkward situation. My growing erection kept rubbing against Evan's butt as I squirmed around. The only thing between us was a few layers of clothing. Simply remaining still was not an option during this unmerciful tickle torture. I closed my eyes and tried to think of anything to kill off this raging boner, but it wasn't working.Â
Any second now, I was about to be labeled "that weird guy that blew his load in his pants from being tickled by some dudes." I could never face any of these people again. I would have to quit school! How would I explain to my family why I dropped out in the first week?Â
Right as I was approaching the brink, Evan brought everything to a screeching halt. "I think that's enough tickling, boys! Let's get him tied up!" Commanded the Jock as he repositioned himself a little farther up my chest.Â
Was this all just a huge coincidence of timing, or was I just secretly but intentionally edged by my roommate? The whole situation left me in a total mind fuck. Unfortunately, I didn't have too much time to deliberate, as the mob had moved on to the next phase of their plan.Â
"Let's shrink wrap him naked to the light pole out front," suggested one voice
"You just want to see naked men, Carter," teased a female voice.Â
"I heard last year someone got taped to a toilet for their birthday," suggested another voice.
Mason suggested, "Let’s tie him to the office chair, then we can wheel him wherever we want tonight."
My heart stopped as the muscular hockey player made a request that sounded right out of every fictional TUG story.Â
"Pass me his socks," ordered Evan. Thankfully, I had just showered before putting on those clean socks not long before the attack took place.
Evan took a whiff of the bright white ankle socks before tossing them back, unsatisfied with the fresh clean smell.Â
"Who has the smelliest socks here?" Questioned my roommate. After a quick deliberation among my attackers and the group of spectators that had formed in our small dorm room, it was decided that someone named Hunter had the most foul-smelling feet.Â
"We need your socks, Hunter." Ordered Evan, "Dawson here wants to wash them for you, don't you, Nerd?"
I tried to shake my head in disagreement, but the mischievous look on my roommate's face told me that I wasn't going to get a vote in the matter.Â
Reluctantly, a very large and muscular looking dude began to remove his very well worn looking size twelve Nike running shoes. He looked understandably embarrassed to be crowned the title of worst smelling feet in the room. Although I could not smell it yet, others standing closer to him started to protest the foul stench already. Evan didn't even get them close to his nose before recoiling away while gagging and coughing. Was this all theatrics, or did the stained yellowish and dingey looking garments really smell that foul?Â
As the warm and damp sweaty wads approached my defenseless nose, the pungent vinegary fumes began to burn my nostrils.Â
Normally, I loved reading tales like this. Now that I was experiencing it first hand, I found no pleasure in the situation. This was humiliating, degrading, and downright stomach churning.Â
"I know you are going to open wide and accept this tasty treat, Birthday Boy," said Evan. I shook my head vigorously as I protested into my hand gag. My roommate continued, "Because if you don't, I am going to force them in your yap, then you are going to lose your pants for the rest of the night for your disobedience."
The thought of being seen in only my underwear was bad enough, but I could only imagine the wet spot of pre-cum that I must have been on this pair now. After taking a second to realize that I had no better option, I submissively opened my mouth wide and waited nervously for the rancid puke bombs to be shoved in.Â
Nothing could prepare me for the cheesey funk that assaulted my taste buds. The foot flavored wads oozed rancid sweat juices down the back of my throat as they were squished to fit both of the massive biohazardous socks into my rather small mouth. My cheeks bulged out like a chipmunk, and I was unable to close my mouth fully.
I know the term "puke inducing" gets thrown around a lot in fictional stories involving sock gags, but it hits completely different now that I have had to actually fight back the urge to vomit. Evan has since told me that I did in fact turn a little green.Â
At this point, our cute neighbor Jen returned with the supplies that she was sent for. Evan wasted no time sealing my speech-proof stuffing with multiple strips of extra wide and super sticky tape.Â
"Now thank Hunter for that delicious birthday present," commanded the alpha hockey jock.Â
Humiliated, I reluctantly mumbled a thank you from my overstuffed orifice. This grew snickers and giggles from my audience. Despite being the most embarrassing experience of my life, for some strange reason, I was still rock-hard.Â
"I think Mason has the right idea. Let's get the birthday boy back in his chair so we can get this party started," cheered Evan.Â
The mob wasted no time taping my knees and ankles up with the industrial grade duct tape before wrapping me from the waist down in plastic wrap. Fortunately, this helped hide the tent I was pitching.Â
I was manhandled back into my chair before being secured in place with a ridiculous amount of tape. My wrists were tied firmly behind my back, then lashed to the chair.Â
Jen dug through the dollar store bag, showing off the rest of her purchases to the group. My birthday themed decorations included a cheap plastic tierra, a "birthday boy" sash, and a collection of paw patrol helium birthday balloons to tie to my chair.
For the final touch, Evan gently placed my glasses back on my face so I could properly see myself in the mirror. I looked absolutely ridiculous.Â
At this point, I was paraded around the halls before being deposited in the common room. Most of the floor was gathered here, drinking and watching the game. Many people took this opportunity to take a selfie with the dumbass who didn't know to go home on his birthday.Â
It wasn't all bad though. A couple of the cute girls decided to take a pic with both of them kissing my cheeks. Embarrassingly, Evan and Mason wasted no time recreating the photo.Â
I would love to say that a great time was had by all, then I was promptly released from my bonds and allowed to spend the rest of the evening in my room alone. Sadly, this was not true, and only the beginning of my crazy evening.Â
Not at all what I suspected was going to happen (there’s still time for that), but that was brilliant. Can’t wait to see how the rest of the night plays out.
Socksbound wrote: 1 year ago
Not at all what I suspected was going to happen (there’s still time for that), but that was brilliant. Can’t wait to see how the rest of the night plays out.
Agreed! Ah the twists and turns of dorm life! I'm glad Dawson gets to (hopefully) enjoy a birthday night to remember!
And here I thought Evan would have accidentally stumbled on Dawson's journal before we got to this point! Clearly Evan has another side then we were lead to believe
As I sat in the dorm's common room, bound to my desk chair, I was starting to get restless and bored. I had no interest in the stupid hockey game on tv. Evan had disappeared some time ago, no doubt with his latest female conquest. Ironically, my issue was not with a sock on our door handle this time, but the pair of rancid stinkers stuffed in my mouth.
Noticing my boredom, Mason crouched down beside me. "Not into the game, are you?" Asked my neighbour. I shook my head, confirming his suspicions.
"You know I can't just let you go yet, right?" Asked Mason. I nodded, understanding his position.
"How about we find you some new friends instead?" Suggested the blond skater boy. I gave him a confused look, not understanding what he meant.
A few minutes later, he came back with a marker and wrote, "Hi! I'm Dawson. It's my birthday, " on my bare chest.
Mason proceeded to crack a fresh can of beer before shoving a couple more travellers in his hoodie pocket. He then began wheeling me toward the elevator.
"Say goodbye to Dawson, everyone. We are going on a little adventure!" Announced Mason. Everyone was far too fixated on the game to care about us.
As the elevator door opened, two guys were already inside. Both looked like your typical stuck-up frat boy douche bags, complete with collared shirts and faded hair cuts. These two were probably bigger man-whores than Evan.
The pair just smiled at my predicament as Mason wheeled me into the elevator.
Once the doors closed, one of the guys whispered to the other, " Let's pretend it's your birthday later, and I'll tie you up like that."
The second guy just shushed his friend and looked very embarrassed.
This caused Mason and myself to look at each other, not quite believing what we just heard. The rest of the elevator ride was very quiet and a little awkward.
The small lounge area in the lobby was packed with students hanging out and drinking. As we mingled with some people that Mason knew, he offered me beer. I had tried a sip of Tom's beer before and didn't really like it, but it had to taste better than the rancid socks stuffed in my mouth, so I nodded yes.
Once the tape was removed and the rotten stinkers pried from my yap, Mason poured some of his beer in my mouth. It was an awkward process, but without use of my hands, we made due. It did feel great to move my sore jaw as well.
Seeing this happen seemed to make everyone else want to pour some of their various alcoholic drinks in my mouth, too. Most of the booze made it in my mouth, but some was accidentally spilled down my bare chest and on my shrink wrap covered lap. I was slowly becoming a sticky mess.
Apparently, getting the birthday boy drunk is a common social event among college students.
I have now learned that I do not like any hard alcohol or shots. I would drink beer if I had to, but I absolutely love Twisted Teas!
At around this point, Evan joined our group. For some strange reason, I yelled out, "Evan! Hey everyone! My friend Evan is here! Hi Evan!"
My roommate chuckled as he asked, "How much has he had to drink?"
Mason replied, " Not too sure. Everyone just keeps doing a community pour right in his mouth, one mouthful at a time. It's the only way to get him to shut up for a second. We have created a monster"
"You should have just shoved Hunter's socks back in," joked Evan.
A short while later, my roommate announced, "Alright, Nerd, time to get you to bed. I think you have had enough fun tonight."
Despite my protests, I was wheeled back towards the elevators. Unlike when we left our floor earlier, this time people shouted their "goodbye's" and even addressed me by name. I felt important for once. I felt like that Norm guy from the old TV show.
Once we got back to our room, I noticed that Evan's smelly old hockey bag was on the floor, near my bed. Because of its rather strong odor, this is normally kept in the trunk of his equally musky smelling car.
Evan carefully positioned my chair facing his bed, then sat down, looking directly at me. I couldn't tell if he was angry, concerned, or nervous.
"I have a little birthday surprise for you, Dawson. I think you are going to like it. " Said Evan.
"You didn't have to buy me something," I replied.
"It's not a thing. It's..... it's more of an experience, "explained my roommate. He continued, " I guess first I should tell you that I know about the bondage websites that you are always on."
Reality hit me like a mack truck. I felt a panic attack coming on. I wanted to break down and cry. I wanted to run far away from this situation, but I was still firmly bound to this stupid chair! How did he know?! Wait!
"You read my journal?!" I shouted in anger.
"Ssshhhh! It's late! Wait?! A journal? That's so cute! Can I read it?" Laughed Evan.
I was speechless. I just stared at him in horror.
Evan broke the awkward silence, "No, for someone who thinks they are the smartest person in our program, you have no concept of the principles of light reflection. Every night, you sit there on your iPad looking at all that kinky stuff, and the reflection of your screen projects it on the window behind you. The pics and videos were self-explanatory, but the website with all the stories took a little research. It all makes sense now, though. Why you were so interested when I mentioned hockey hazing, and why you are always checking me out when I change... And why you wear that stupid nerdy underwear on purpose. "
All my deep dark secrets were now exposed. I am not sure if it was all the booze or the inevitable mental breakdown coming, but I was starting to feel sick.
"Please don't tell everyone! Please!" I managed to squeak out.
"Aww, Nerd! I am not here to out you to everyone! Your dirty little secret is safe with me." Assured my roommate. "College is all about trying new things and exploring ourselves. I am not into dudes, but if that's your thing, I am cool with that.
"I'm not gay! I snapped back defensively.
"Okay, bi. Whatever, it's cool," replied Evan, very apologetically.
"I am not Bi either! I am straight. " I retorted.
My roommate just stared at me like I had three heads. "You like erotic stories, pics, and videos with just guys, but you are straight?" Questioned Evan, in disbelief.
"It's just stories! I have never had sex with a guy before!" I defended.
"I doubt you have ever had sex with a girl either, so by that logic, you aren't even straight either!" Shouted my roommate.
He wasn't wrong. Lately, I have spent lots of time questioning my sexuality. I had always fought to justify that I was somehow straight because ultimately, I believed that being straight was normal, and deep down inside, I just wanted to be normal. I was starting to realize that I wasn't normal, whether I wanted to be or not.
At this point, I started to think I may have blacked out, and this must all be a weird alcohol induced dream. This wasn't all really happening.
After giving me a few minutes with my thoughts, my roommate finally spoke up. "What I am offering, if you are still interested, is a one-time only birthday role play. That story that you commented on yesterday where the football team tied up the rookies in their stinky gear and hazed them after practice? We act that out but with hockey equipment instead. What do you say, Nerd?"
My head was still foggy and overwhelmed, but for some reason, my groin was giving a very clear answer to Evan's proposal.
Still not fully convinced that this was real, I nodded nervously and managed to squeak out a timid "yes."
After being freed from my chair and partial mummification, I was allowed a couple of minutes to stretch my legs and use the bathroom before my next adventure. My head was still swimming, but I was also a little excited for what was to come.
Once I came back into our dorm room, I saw that Evan had all the "well marinated" hockey gear spread out. The room already had a musky locker room smell.
"Strip, Rookie!" Barked the compression shorts clad hockey Adonis that awaited my return. His chest was perfectly cut. This time, I didn't even try to hide my staring. I just took it all in. "Leave those nerdy tighty whities on, Rookie. No one wants to see that you are packing less than most timbits players," chirped Evan.
I didn't fully understand the reference, but I could only assume that he was insulting the size of my manhood. Ironically, his verbal abuse probably caused it to swell a little more.
I quickly removed the pajama pants and t-shirt that I had just put on for the walk to the bathroom. After another insult about my muscles being on backorder, the captain of my new team began tossing random gear at me to put on.
After struggling with the hockey pants and putting the shoulder pads on wrong, the alpha jock decided to take matters into his own hands. He began to manhandle me and proceeded to dress me like you would a small child.
"You are pathetic! Even kids in U8 can dress themselves. This isn't house league, rookie!" Growled the angry team captain.
Once the gloves were slipped on my hands, some of the leftover industrial tape from earlier was used to secure them to my wrists.
Looking at my reflection in the mirror, I looked the part. Missing only the helmet, skates, and stick, I could almost pass for a real hockey player.
"Do you think you deserve to wear that Kingstown Knights logo, Rookie?! You still haven't earned it!" Barked the team captain. He manhandled the back of my jersey over my head, blocking my vision and trapping my upper arms.
I tensed up with anticipation as I felt his fingers wrap around the waistband of my briefs. I let out a moan as the white fabric compressed my junk and stretched up my back. I could hear some pops and snaps as my tighty whities ripped clean off.
"What kind of athlete wears nerdy underwear like this? This is the hockey team, not the chess club, " mocked the alpha male.
I tried to get into character. "I am sorry, sir. It's laundry day, and that's all that I had left, " I replied in my most pathetic tone.
Evan yanked the jersey the rest of the way off of me before shouting, "Drop and give me 50 push-ups, maggot."
He may as well have said a million because there was no way my scrawny arms and asthmatic lungs would ever do either. As I got down into position, he placed his stained yellowish and pungent smelling jockstrap on the floor below my face.
"On every down, I want you to take a nice big whiff of my jockstrap, rookie. Smell what a real man smells like! " instructed Evan.
As a scrawny weakling, push-ups have always been hard. Combined with a raging boner, it was even more awkward and embarrassing. I made it to twenty before Evan ordered me to stand up.
After putting on my helmet for me, Evan cheered, "Can't forget the mouth guard," as he shoved the tattered remains of my briefs in my mouth. Although not overly appetizing, it was much less puke worthy than Hunter's socks from earlier this evening.
"Now don't go spitting that out, or I will find something much worse to replace it with," warned my tormentor.
After being aggressively shoved backward onto my bed, I was tied spread-eagle. The white cotton rope was surprisingly soft against my wrists and ankles. Evan's knotwork was very firm and snug, yet did not restrict my circulation. How was he so good at this? Was he maybe a little more experienced at this than he let on?
Once he was satisfied that I was going nowhere, he climbed up on top of me. He straddled my upper chest as he positioned the front of his compression shorts against the face shield of my helmet. He started to grind his groin against the face shield as he teased, " You like that, don't you, pansy?"
Truthfully, yes, I did. Very much so. Still, I tried to remain in character as I pathetically whined into my gag that I didn't like it. Acting the part of a beta was almost too natural for me.
After growing tired of belittling me in front of the whole (pretend) locker room, my tormentor climbed off of me and began shouting something about being tough enough to be called a knight. He then proceeded to attack the defenseless soles of my feet with his fingers. I squirmed, bucked, and begged, but the tickle torture seemed to go on forever. By the time it was finally over, I was sweaty and out of breath. My ribs were sore from laughing. My exhausted body melted into a puddle on the bed. I closed my eyes for a moment while I tried to recover.
I felt my hockey pants being yanked down as my cock sprang free.
"Aww!, isn't that the cutest little thing! Just an itty bitty widdle guy, " Teased Evan in a babyish tone.
I heard a plastic lid snap open, and then a few seconds later, I felt a cold and slimy hand grab my shaft. I let out a soft moan as he started to work the lube around my shaft with his hand.
"We are going to test your self-control with this exercise, Rookie. Do not cum until I say you can! If you fail, not only will you be punished, but so will the rest of the rookies. We win as a team and lose as a team. If you let them down, they may even beat you as a team!" Warned Captain Evan.
He slowly began to increase the speed of his stroking. I tried everything to contain myself. I tried to think unsexy thoughts. Unfortunately, I couldn't block out the fact that my super hot roommate, whom I have a huge crush on, was acting out this amazing kinky role play with me, and now giving me the greatest hand job ever! In record time, I was about to explode and ruin our fun. I let out a frustrated moan just as I was approaching the brink. Evan stopped dead. For the second time today, I was edged by him.
"I warned you, Cran! No cumming!", scolded the captain. He began slowly pumping my cock again. Gradually, he picked up speed. Again, right at the point of no return, he stopped. This cycle continued four more frustrating times. By this point, I no longer cared about passing this test. I just wanted release. Bring on whatever punishment you like, I desperately needed to cum!
The next time, I tried bucking my hips as I got close, but he just released his grip on my member, leaving me humping air. Frustrated, I shouted obscenities at him into my gag. He rewarded my defiance with a painful flick to my nuts. My pained yelp confirmed to him that I had learned my lesson.
Midway through the next round, he asked, "Do you want it? Do you really want it?" I nodded vigorously. "Tell me you want it! Beg me! Plead with me!"
My begging, pleading, and crying may have been garbled by the underwear shoved in my mouth, but there was no mistaking the genuine desire in my tone.
As I approached climax, I felt my whole body tense up. My toes curled. I could feel the pressure flowing down my shaft as I exploded into pure bliss. The initial blast splattered against the plastic visor of my helmet, while rope after rope of sticky warm cum continued to land on my bare chest and pool.
This was a million times better than any orgasm I had given myself in the past. I was left completely drained and breathless as my limbs fell limp in their restraints.
Evan unclipped the strap on my helmet and slid it up just enough to stick his hand inside the visor and remove my gag. He used the saliva soaked fabric to wipe up the seaman from my chest and cock.
"Best birthday present ever?" Asked Evan.
"I want to be a hockey player when I grow up!" I joked.
"I hate to burst your bubble, but real hockey locker rooms are nothing like that," replied Evan. "What was your favorite part?"
As I opened my mouth to respond, my roommate forced the cum soaked undies inside. The warm salty slime was absolutely gross.
"That's from the other rookies. Apparently they didn't like when you kept trying to cum and get them punished. They decided to teach you a lesson." Laughed Evan.
He proceeded to gather up his toothbrush and toothpaste as he headed off to the bathroom. I tried to remind him that I was still tied to the bed, but it fell on deaf ears.
While I waited for his return, I came to the sad realization that this amazing experience was a one-off. It would most likely never happen again. I couldn't expect my straight but possibly curious roommate to keep fulfilling my strange fantasies. I needed to find another "friend." Where does one even find a Dom? Especially someone as shy and introverted as me? I wonder if the guys in the elevator ended up having a night like this?
My thoughts were interrupted by the door opening.
I heard Evan's voice saying, "Ya guys, get in here and see this! You aren't going to believe this! Get your cameras ready!"
My heart stopped. I am not sure who he was talking to, but I knew that I didn't want them seeing me like this! I couldn't even cover myself up or turn away!
Evan closed the door and began laughing out loud. "Dude! I wish I had recorded that so you could see your face! Priceless"
I didn't think his little stunt was near that funny, to be honest.
"Ok Nerd. You have two choices. I can untie you, and you can take the gear off and go to bed...... or...... if you sleep how you are, minus that delicious gag, I may have a little reward for you soon. What's your choice?
