The Gym Bunny by Jase1010
23 photos; 4:54 video
Patrick prided himself on his new physical fitness regimen. He had lost over 50 lbs in the last couple of months, and thought he was the cock of the walk. It got so that he had begun walking around his gym, and crowing about what great shape he was in and how he would soon be benching even more than then the bodybuilders who frequented his gym. Said bodybuilders thought that Patrick was an arrogant prick who was still a novice and needed to recognize that. Plus, he never put away his weights or wiped his sweat off the benches after he was done. It was breaking a cardinal rule of the gym.
Something needed to be done.
Patrick entered the gym on Thanksgiving morning. He was psyched because he knew that, due to the holiday, he and the other muscle boys would be the only ones at the gym. That meant less of a wait for weights and machines. Maybe he'd even work off without a shirt on to show those other guys how a real man gets cut.
James, Terry, and Tim were there, already lifting. Patrick sauntered up, and immediately launched into his usual put-downs about how they were total pussies and he could bench more than that. He also noted that he felt that James (who was being spotted by Terry) liked having Terry's crotch right above his face. James secured the iron he was currently hefting, and sat up. The three experienced musclemen looked at each other. That's it. It was go time.
They turned to Patrick with evil smiles on their faces.
Before Patrick could even get out a "what are you guys doing?", they had advanced on him. Tim lifted Patrick over his shoulder in a fireman's carry, ignoring Patrick's protests. As he was carted towards the manager's freshly painted office, James and Terry peppered Patrick's butt with spanks to enforce his helplessness. They had big, broad hands and - OW. Patrick was practically shrieking in protest.
"Fuck! What the fuck are you - OW! - idiots doing! Let me down! I'll kick your asses, man! I'll fuck you up! LET ME G-MMPPGGHRRHRH!"
Tired of listening to his protests and threats, Terry took the do-rag he had been wearing off his head and stuffed it into Patrick's mouth. James took HIS do-rag off and tied it around Patrick's so their captive was completely silenced with sweaty cotton.
"MMpphgghrrhr! MMPPHHH!! Mmmmfffoo MmMaaannntt MMMfpphoo Mmmisss Mah MMMEEEE!" Patrick was almost gagging with the sweaty cloth stuffed in his mouth. He demanded they release him, but only earned his ass some more spanking. He only had a jock on under his shorts so his butt was starting to sting.
They got into the office, which had been emptied of furniture for the painters. As they dropped him on to the floor with a thud, Patrick realized with a sinking feeling that Mark the manager wouldn't even be in today. He trusted the group with a key to use on holidays. It was just Patrick and three pissed off musclemen.
He noted with alarm that, while James and Tim held him down on the floor, Terry was advancing on him with coils of rope. Oh man. He was getting tied up.
Patrick was absolutely correct. He quickly found himself tightly hogtied, his body bent into a bow shape for the maximum discomfort. The ropes binding his hands, feet and body completed his bondage. He was now a squirming sap stuck on the hardwood floor. His three tormentors stood above him, grinning, big arms folded.
"How's my sweaty head rag taste, asshole?" James asked, snickering.
Patrick could only "mmpphh" angrily as he worked his body around on the floor, trying to find a least one little knot to work on to get untied. He couldn't.
"You can bounce around all you want, buttface, but I was a boy scout AND a sailor. That shit is forever, You're all tied up until we let you out,"Terry informed him.
"MMMMMMMGGPRHRHRHRH!!!" Patrick screamed into his gag. If anything, his struggles seemed to be making the ropes TIGHTER. Fuck, he was stuck.
"We got tired of trying to work out while hearing you flap your gums over and over again. We needed some peace and quiet and you needed to learn a little lesson about respect and common courtesy in a gym setting. You wipe down the equipment after you use it because no one wants to lay in your ass sweat..."
Tim had squatted down next to the helpless Patrick, and was punctuating each directive by poking a big finger into his forehead. OW! Patrick bellowed some more into his mouth stuffing.
"...you put the weights away...*POKE**MMPPHHH!!!!*...you stop talking shit about how much better you are than the rest of us....*POKE**MMPPHHH!!*...you stop harassing the juice bar girl because she thinks you're a dick....*POKE**MPPHH!!!....and you wear a FUCKING TOWEL when it's possible in the locker room because no one's impressed with your substandard schlong!"
Tim finished off his speech with a final savage poke to Patrick's forehead and smack to his ass. He then stood up.
"MMPPHHHHHH!!!" Patrick began begging them to untie him. He had learned his lesson. He would behave.
Unfortunately for him, they couldn't make out a word of what he was saying. They had all high-fived and left him there. To struggle helplessly. How long were they going to leave him like this? Would they untie his ass before they left? He was going to miss turkey!
He realized in this scenario that he WAS the turkey. A trussed up one.
Model: Mickey O'Shea Photography by Caitiff
Date of Production:10/25/2012