Story – ‘Revenge’ from ropejock.com

It began simply enough…

Back when I was a teenager there was this one friend of mine who was determined to try and nail me. He was convinced some day he was going to take me down in a wrestling match, despite the fact he was a little younger, a lot smaller, and a whole lot weaker. Hard farm work builds you tough and lasting. He was a city boy. But he was determined, I’ll give him that. Still, every time he jumped me, I would turn it on him, put him in a lock hold, twist him into some helpless pretzel and then grab him in the ribs until he turned red and cried tears of laughter and defeat crying “You win, you win!!”

Then at some point he decided he was going to finally get some revenge.
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Story – ‘Abduction’ from ropejock.com

I don’t really remember how I got here. I know that I was at a party with a few friends. I know that I had probably too much to drink, but that’s all I remember of the night before. I went to move, feeling as if I was floating on air, but something kept me from going anywhere. I tried to open my eyes, but everything was dark, black almost.
I went to say something, I don’t know, anything, but I couldn’t even do that. Something was keeping me from talking. Something was in my mouth and I couldn’t spit it out. I started to force myself up from my position, but I got nothing. Frustration led to yelling, but it did me no good.
“Ah, you’re awake,” were the first words I heard.
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Story – ‘A Farmboy’s Memoirs’ from ropejock.com

I turned him over and shoved his elbows together behind his back. A few quick turns of the soft leather strap and they were tied. I then pulled his wrists together, palms together, and tied them with the nylon cord. I turned him over and looked down on him. A sheen of sweat was forming on his broad brown chest from our little wrestling match, even though I knew he had let me win, him being larger and stronger than I was. Del was beginning to glisten in the dim light of the curtained room. I ran a finger down the trough between his budding pectorals, feeling the slickness and coolness of the perspiration. I put my hand flat on his abdomen and felt the hard warmth of his muscles tensing and flexing under me. I could tell that he liked the feel of my hands on him, liked the weight of me there on his thighs, liked the feel of his tied elbows and wrists and the heft of both of us pressing down on them there on the creaky old bed.
“Whatta you want to play?” I asked him.
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Story – ‘First Tickle Bet’ from ropejock.com

i vividly remember the first time i ever made a tickling wager…

mike and i were in high school at the time and had both played hooky on a tuesday. we were at my house alone, since both my parents were at work. we started playing basketball early in the day. 20 point games. we became more and more competitive each game we played. we would rub it in and tease the other each time we won. i’d won the first game, lost the two next games, and then won the next two, and then mike won again. after he got through taunting me and we were about to start a new game, he suddenly turned to me “hey, you wanna’ play for something this time?”.
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Story – ‘Homecoming’ Part 2 from ropejock.com

I awoke with subdued lights around me. I sat up in bed, white sheets covering my naked body. I looked around and there were no restraints and no rubber suits. I swung my legs to the floor and walked to the window where twilight was beginning to wake the nighttime city. I was in my own bed, in my own apartment. I didn’t understand what was going on. I went to the bedroom door and into the lounge. The kitchen light was on I could hear voiced in quiet conversation. I’d forgotten my nakedness and went to the kitchen quietly and looked around the door.
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Story – ‘Homecoming’ Part 1 from ropejock.com

As consciousness returned, I remembered what had happened and tried to sit up – I couldn’t. I found I could barely move a muscle. My arms were tied tightly behind me; I felt something tied tight around my ankles, my knees and even my thighs. My wrists were secured and my elbows were pulled painfully tight together in the small of my back. My head was enclosed in something, the smell was familiar, but I couldn’t place it. My mouth felt stuffed full of something soft, springy but tough and I could barely swallow. The contraption blindfolded me – it must have been a hood of some sort over my head.
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Story – ‘A Day in Hell’ from ropejock.com

the moment i walked into Mark’s den i could tell i was in for much more than i had bargained for. between the den and the study was a large, open, double-sized entry way cut into the wall. i immediately noticed that four big, heavy eye-hooks had been screwed into it’s frame at each of the four corners. there were four lengths of heavy clothesline running through each of the loops in these eyehooks. four thick leather straps hung from one end of each of these ropes. the ropes were threaded through the hoops and then fed to winches which had been installed into the top and bottom at the midpoints of the doorframe. the straps nearest the floor were fed to the bottom winch and conversely, the straps near the ceiling to the top winch.
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Story – ‘Tim the Ticklish Skatepunk’ from ropejock.com

I’d been watching him for several weeks now. Gliding by with his buddies he’d be, in a white T-shirt and khaki shorts, baggy, coursing elegantly over the corporate cement. I’d be hangin’ out on Saturdays, reading a novel, smoking cigarettes in the late spring warmth, thoroughly enjoying these young studs’ skate stunts (until the goddamn corporation cracked down later that year and put up signs and more security to drive them off). Several were quite nice-looking, but one stood out. About five-nine, jet-black hair of average length, heavy-boned frame, and, around his neck, oddly, a very-seventies shark tooth on a black leather cord. The young hunk was broad-shouldered and clearly well-built; he distracted me often from my book.

As I had decided to be more bold with my interest in good-looking, athletic, cocky young men, specifically desiring to explore my paternal disciplinary instincts, and the possibility of persuading one of these smirky, arrogant skatepunks into bondage and boyish tortures, I determined to strike up a conversation with this guy. . .eventually.

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