Photo Story #13 (Patreon)

When Brandon had agreed to go to his neighbour's 4th July costume party, he had expected a big crowd, some delicious food, and some drunken antics. 

What he hadn't expected was how he'd end the night . . . or the following morning. 

Brandon had never been into costumes much, so he took the easy route - cowboy! He was a ranch farmer and he already had everything he needed from the boots that he wore daily to the hat that he sometimes donned in the summer months. His closet was full of checked shirts and jeans, so it was really a no brainer. 

The neighbours had said the barbecue would kick off at seven and there'd be drinking, some games and a lot of fireworks. 

Despite not being the most sociable of people, Brandon was looking forward to some fun and to letting go with a few beers. 

At around seven thirty, Brandon emerged from the shower, pulled on a checked shirt with a grey and blue pattern, and pulled on his tightest pair of jeans. He didn't bother with underwear because he rarely did. He finished the outfit with a thick leather belt, his favourite cowboy boots, and his hat. 

Brandon gave himself a wink in the mirror before jumping in his truck and heading down the dirt road to the neighbouring farm. 

"Brandon, you made it!" 

Brandon was immediately pulled into a bear hug by Craig, one of the two guys who lived on the neighbouring farm. Craig was six foot with broad shoulders and the hairiest chest that Brandon had ever seen. Craig had dressed as a lumberjack and his red plaid shirt was unbuttoned to his stomach, showing off his furry pecs. 

"I thought I was late," Brandon said, as he looked around at the lack of cars. 

"There's only gonna be the three of us, bud. Not many people wanna drive out this far." 

Craig clapped Brandon on the shoulder and steered him into the house where Ryan, a guy with the same build as Craig, was dressed in a snug head to toe Stars and Stripes suit. 

"Someone's feeling patriotic," Brandon chuckled as Ryan hugged him. 

"Damn right! Now let's get you a drink." 

Ryan handed Brandon a beer and they headed out to the back deck where the grill was fired and meat was sizzling. 

"So, it's just the three of us?" 

"Sure is," Ryan said as he clinked his bottle against Brandon's. 

Brandon thought it was weird that they'd invited him to a party when there was no one else going. Sure, he'd been over for beers before, but why not just say that? And why did they need to dress up? 

It felt a bit strange to him, but Brandon knocked back his first beer and quickly moved on to his second. 

It was around the time that he started on his third beer that Brandon felt . . . off. His head seemed a bit fuzzy, and he couldn't quite form sentences. There was no way he was drunk because three or four beers was a typical Saturday night for him, but there was something not right. 

He tried to explain this to Craig and Ryan, but they feigned confusion and just handed him another beer. 

During the fourth beer, things started to go blurry around the edges, and Brandon felt his eyes growing so heavy that he couldn't keep them open. 

Brandon woke the next morning with his head pounding, unable to even open his eyes. For some reason, his wrists hurt and his feet were throbbing. 

"What the . . ." 

As he opened his eyes, Brandon was confused, and then very quickly panicked. He was on Craig and Ryan's deck, his wrists were tied behind his back to the wooden rail, and his calves were tied lower down. His shirt was wide open and there was duct tape over his mouth. 

The fuzziness in his brain remained, but Brandon started shouting as loudly as he could through his gag. 

What the fuck had happened last night and where were Ryan and Craig? 

"Looks like someone is finally awake," Ryan said, still wearing the Stars and Stripes suit pants, but his thickly muscled chest and stomach were bare. 

"About damn time," Craig said, still in the same lumberjack costume. 

Brandon shouted in confusion, but Craig and Ryan just laughed. 

"You've been cock teasing us for months, Brandon. We thought it was about time that we got what we wanted." 

Ryan stepped up to Brandon and ran a hand down his chest and over his abs, before grasping the thick leather belt. 

Brandon shook his head and tried desperately to free his hands, but they were knotted tight in the thick rope. 

"Don't worry, we won't hurt you," Craig said with a shrug. "We'll make sure you enjoy it too." 

As Craig unbuckled Brandon's belt and whistled at the sight of him being commando, Brandon yelled more loudly, desperate to know how he'd ever get away from these two massive guys. After all, what would they do to him? Surely, they wouldn't do more than just feel him up? 

Or would they?