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23 photos; 2:46 video

Glen glared defiantly at the two men who had XXXX him. His hands were lashed behind his back, and tight rope surrounded his broad chest, biting into his meaty pecs. A thick cloth gag was tied into his mouth, silencing him. Just an hour before, he had been warming up in the locker room at Peppermill State for his match in the Intercollegiate
Greco-Roman Semi-Finals. He was heavily favored to win, and a victory would assure Peppermill's team a top seeding in the Finals next week. His teammate Greg Fitzpatrick had stuck his head into the locker room and said:
"Glen, one of the TV guys told me Coach wants to see you in his office, pronto!"
"Thanks, Greg, I'll be right there," he'd replied.
Glen pulled up the straps of his spandex singlet, and headed down the corridor to Coach Petersen's office. He had assumed Coach was out on the gym floor, since the competition had already beXXXX. As he stepped through Coach's office door, a hand clapped over his mouth and a muscular arm circled his throat.
"Mmmpphhh!!", Glen grunted, but before he even had a chance to react, he saw Coach Petersen sitting in his desk chair, bound and gagged, with a stranger holding a XXXX to his head.
"No trouble, boy," a voice gritted into his ear, "or Coach will be managing the team at Big Sky U!"
Glen's eyes met the Coach's, and the Coach shook his head slowly up and down, indicating that Glen should do as he was told. The hand was removed from his mouth, and a cloth was stuffed into it and tied behind his head. Glen saw that the Coach was bound to his chair and gagged with wide strips of white athletic tape. Coach Petersen, a handsome, muscular man in his early 40's, looked completely helpless in his bonds and gag . Glen stood still as his
arms were pulled roughly behind his back and his wrists tied tightly with quite a bit of rope. The two men didn't speak as Glen was tied up, and then the one who had tied him dXXXXd a thick white towel over his head, effectively hooding his face.
"Take him out," the one holding the XXXX on the Coach said, "and make sure no one sees you! I'll take care of Coach."
Glen's blood ran cold as he was led down the corridor by his XXXX. What was going on? Why was he being XXXX? What would happen to Coach? He cooperated with the thug, afraid that any struggle on his part would endanger the Coach.
He was led out a side door, and raising his head slightly beneath the towel, he saw a nondescript, white panel truck parked immediately in front of the door. He was pushed onto the floor of the van, and his ankles were quickly tied.
"Nice body, kid," the XXXX said, running his hand over the prominent bulge in Glen's skintight singlet.
The van roared off, another XXXX behind the wheel. After about 20 minutes, it stopped, and Glen's ankles were untied. "Up and at 'em, stud," the XXXXper ordered.
Glen was led into a dark, rundown house. Summoning up his courage, he mumbled through his gag.
"Whaff oing on? Oo ah oo?"
He was rewarded by a smack across the face.
"Shut the fuck up!" he was told, and pushed roughly to the floor.

"Let's check your 'nads for steroid use."
Glen was horrified as the thug stuck his hand into the crotch of his singlet and hauled out his cock and balls, sXXXXping the spandex under his ball sac.
"MMMPPPHHHHHH!!!" Glen writhed as his manhood was stroked, gently but firmly.
"Ummm," the XXXXper said, "Shaved, eh? I heard you jocks do that."
At that moment, the van driver entered the room.
"What the fuck? Spike, you frigging perv, leave him alone. You know the orders!"
"OK, OK," Spike replied, reluctantly tucking Glen's jewels back into their spandex pouch. The driver tossed some rope at Spike.
"Hogtie the fucker, and tighten up that gag. This dump has people nextdoor."
Spike followed his orders, quickly re-tying Glen's ankles, and then fastening his ankles to his wrists in a restrictive hogtie. He unknotted the cloth gag, then pulled it into Glen's mouth even tighter than before, and double-knotted it. Glen's well-trained muscles could handle the pain of the hogtie, but the roping rendered him completely helpless, belly-down on the floor. For the first time, he noticed the television in the corner across from where he lay. The local ESPN station was covering the Semi-Finals, and Glen's eyes were riveted to the screen. Suddenly, the camera angle switched from the floor of the gym, and Coach Petersen's handsome face filled the screen.
"It's a tough loss for us, Bob," the Coach said into the camera. "Unfortunately, our star heavyweight, Glen Armstrong, was tied up tonight....by a family emergency."
The two thugs laughed.
"Hey, dat Coach dude has a pretty good sense of humor," Spike said. “Good thing we paid him off."
"Yeah," his fellow thug replied, "Looks like you lose this fall, kid!"
Greg reacted to the corny pun by groaning into his gag and struggling
against the tight ropes, to no avail.
"Yeah, SMACKDOWN!" Spike laughed.

Greg played by Mark

Photography by Caitiff