Mike knelt on the wooden floor of the frat house basement, wrists crossed behind his back as his brothers wrapped coarse clothesline around them. After watching an action movie where the hero escaped elaborate restraints, he had confidently bet his frat brothers that he could do the same.
"Tighter," Mike instructed, flexing his wrists to create space. "The guy in the movie had it way worse than this."
Josh stood watching, arms crossed with an amused smirk. He took a swig from his beer, shaking his head. "No way you're getting out of this, bro."
"Twenty bucks says I'm free in under fifteen minutes," Mike replied confidently.
The brothers continued their work methodically. They pushed up the sleeves of Mike's white t-shirt, exposing his biceps before wrapping more rope above his elbows, cinching them just two inches apart. The position forced his chest forward uncomfortably. Additional loops circled his upper arms, pinning them roughly five inches apart before being tied off securely.
"Still feeling confident?" Josh asked as Mike tested the bindings, already finding his movement severely restricted.
"Just wait," Mike grunted, though his voice lacked its earlier certainty.
More rope was wrapped around his chest, multiple passes forcing his shoulder blades tight against his body. A final set of coils encircled his midsection, effectively pinning his bound wrists deep into the small of his back. Mike winced as they tightened everything with deliberate efficiency.
"Can't have you yelling for help when you get frustrated," said Trevor, folding a bandanna into a thick band with a knot tied in the center. Mike reluctantly opened his mouth, the knot pressing down on his tongue as the cloth was tied tightly behind his head. Another bandanna was folded into a blindfold and secured over his eyes.
"Hold him steady," someone instructed. Mike felt the unmistakable sensation of duct tape being wrapped around his head, sealing the blindfold and gag in place while leaving his nose clear. They left his backwards baseball cap on, using it to protect his hair from the tape's adhesive.
"Time starts now," announced Trevor, spraying Mike with a water bottle to add to the challenge. "Fifteen minutes to get free."
Josh watched intently as Mike immediately began struggling, testing the ropes with methodical movements. Five minutes passed with Mike making virtually no progress despite his considerable effort. Sweat beaded on his forehead as he twisted his wrists, trying to create slack.
"Not looking good for you," Josh commented. "Those movie guys make it look way easier, huh?"
Mike grunted through his gag, frustration evident as he continued to fight the restraints.
"I bet if you tied up my arms like Mike's, I'd break free," Josh boasted, pointing to his arm and pushing up his white undershirt sleeve to display his bulging bicep. "I'm stronger than he is."
The increasingly intoxicated frat brothers exchanged glances, their competitive spirits ignited.
"You're on," said Trevor. "Same deal? Twenty bucks if you get free in fifteen minutes?"
"Make it fifty," Josh replied confidently.
"Alright, tough guy," Trevor said, grabbing several lengths of clothesline from the pile on the floor. "Let's see how you handle this."
Josh knelt confidently in the center of the basement, his muscular frame highlighted by the tight white t-shirt he wore. He flexed his biceps one last time before presenting his wrists behind his back.
"Cross them," Trevor instructed, pushing Josh's wrists together more tightly than necessary. "And stop flexing. We know all the tricks."
The rough rope bit into Josh's skin as Trevor made the first loops, wrapping methodically around both wrists. Josh tried to subtly create space by tensing his forearms, but Blake noticed immediately.
"He's trying to make slack," Blake warned, reaching down to force Josh's wrists flush against each other.
Trevor nodded and cinched the bindings even tighter, creating a secure figure-eight pattern that eliminated any possibility of movement. He passed the rope between Josh's wrists several times, effectively locking them together before knotting the ends where Josh's fingers couldn't possibly reach.
"Arms next," Trevor announced, selecting a longer piece of rope.
Blake and Kyle each grabbed one of Josh's upper arms, forcing them closer together behind his back. Josh grunted as his shoulders were pulled uncomfortably backward. Trevor worked quickly, looping rope above Josh's elbows and drawing them together until they were nearly touching.
"Too tight?" Trevor asked with mock concern.
"I can take it," Josh replied through gritted teeth, though the strain on his shoulder joints was already becoming uncomfortable.
Trevor continued by wrapping the rope around Josh's chest, just below his pectoral muscles. The coils dug into his torso as they were pulled taut, further restricting the movement of his arms. Additional passes of rope circled his upper arms and chest, creating an elaborate harness that effectively immobilized his upper body.
"Let's secure those ankles," Kyle suggested, already grabbing another length of rope.
Josh's ankles were crossed and bound together with the same methodical precision, the rope wound tightly around the denim of his jeans. Trevor added a second binding just below Josh's knees, forcing his legs together from ankle to thigh.
"Final touch," Trevor announced, selecting a longer piece of rope. He threaded it between Josh's bound ankles and ran it up to his wrists, creating a hogtie that forced Josh's feet to bend upward toward his hands. As Trevor tightened this connection, Josh felt his body bow slightly, creating immediate tension across his back and thighs.
"How's that feel, escape artist?" Blake taunted, giving the hogtie rope a testing tug that made Josh wince.
"Still... confident," Josh managed, though his voice betrayed the growing realization that he had severely underestimated the challenge.
Kyle approached with a red bandanna folded into a thick band. "Open wide," he commanded.
Josh reluctantly parted his lips, feeling the knot in the center of the bandanna press against his tongue as it was forced into his mouth. Kyle tied it tightly behind Josh's head, tousling his hair in the process.
"Can't have you peeking," Trevor added, folding another bandanna into a blindfold. He secured it over Josh's eyes, making sure it blocked all light before reaching for the roll of duct tape.
The distinctive sound of tape being pulled from the roll filled the room. Josh flinched as the sticky material was wrapped around his head multiple times, sealing both the blindfold and gag in place. His backwards baseball cap remained in place, its brim sticking out behind his head.
"There," Trevor announced, stepping back to admire their handiwork. "Try getting out of that, Superman."
Josh immediately began testing his bonds, twisting his wrists and flexing his arms against the elaborate rope work. The brothers watched with amusement as his initial confidence gave way to grunts of effort, then frustration as he discovered that each movement only seemed to tighten the ropes further.
Five minutes into his struggle, Josh was already sweating profusely, his shirt beginning to dampen as he fought against the unyielding restraints. His muscular frame, which had seemed like an advantage, now worked against him as the tightly cinched ropes dug deeper into his flesh with each attempt to flex against them.
"Not so easy, is it?" Mike mumbled through his own gag, taking some satisfaction in Josh's predicament despite being in the same situation himself.
As both captives struggled futilely against their bonds, the other brothers continued drinking, their behavior growing increasingly rowdy. After thirty minutes, it was clear neither Mike nor Josh would be escaping on their own.
"Time's up," Trevor announced. "You both lose."
Mike and Josh slumped in defeat, expecting to be released. Instead, a more troubling conversation began among their increasingly intoxicated brothers.
"You know what would be hilarious?" slurred Kevin. "Let's take this prank to the next level."
"What are you thinking?" asked Trevor, his judgment clearly impaired by alcohol.
"Let's play kidnap," Kevin suggested with a mischievous grin. "My uncle's hunting cabin is empty this weekend. It's totally secluded."
Mike and Josh renewed their struggles with urgent intensity, their muffled protests ignored as the others warmed to the idea.
"The van's right outside," someone pointed out. "We could have them there in an hour."
Without further discussion, the brothers hoisted the bound captives to their feet. Mike and Josh fought against their grip, but with their arms immobilized and vision blocked, resistance proved futile. They were half-carried, half-dragged up the basement stairs and outside into the cool night air.
The side door of the fraternity van slid open with a heavy thunk. Mike and Josh were unceremoniously loaded inside, their bodies thumping against the metal floor. The door slammed shut, plunging them into darkness as the engine roared to life.
The Arrival
The van bounced along the uneven dirt road, each jolt sending painful shockwaves through Mike and Josh's already strained muscles. With their arms bound tightly behind them and the hogtie ropes still in place, every bump became an exercise in endurance. After what seemed like hours but was closer to forty-five minutes, the vehicle finally rolled to a stop.
"We're here!" Kevin announced cheerfully, his words slightly slurred. The engine cut off, plunging the interior into silence broken only by the muffled breathing of the two captives.
The side door slid open with a metallic screech, and cold night air rushed in. Moonlight illuminated the scene—a small, rustic cabin nestled among dense pine trees, far removed from any signs of civilization. The only sounds were chirping crickets and the distant hooting of an owl.
"Welcome to your weekend getaway," Trevor laughed, reaching in to grab Mike's bound ankles. "Let's get you boys settled."
They were roughly dragged from the van, the hogtie ropes mercifully cut to allow them to be half-carried, half-walked toward the cabin. Their ankles remained bound, forcing them to hop awkwardly between their captors. Despite their blindfolds, both could sense the isolation of their surroundings from the crisp forest air and the crunch of pine needles underfoot.
Inside, the cabin smelled of dust and firewood. The brothers flipped on a battery-powered lantern, casting long shadows across the sparse furnishings. Through their blindfolds, Mike and Josh could perceive only vague changes in light and darkness, intensifying their disorientation.
"Perfect spot for our little game," Blake remarked, guiding—or more accurately, shoving—both captives to their knees in the center of the main room. The wooden floorboards were hard against their kneecaps.
"Time for a change of position," Trevor announced, producing more rope from his duffel bag. "I'm thinking something more... intimate."
Josh renewed his struggles at these words, earning a laugh from the group.
"Don't worry, tough guy," Kyle taunted. "You'll still have your buddy for company."
With practiced efficiency, they began modifying the bindings. First, they untied the chest ropes from both captives, leaving their wrists still securely bound behind them. Then they positioned Mike and Josh kneeling face-to-face, their chests nearly touching.
"Perfect," Trevor said, taking a long rope and beginning to wrap it around both captives simultaneously. Starting just below their shoulders, he created tight coils that bound the two together, chest-to-chest. Each loop was cinched firmly, forcing them into an uncomfortably close embrace.
More rope followed around their midsections, then their thighs, binding them together from shoulders to knees. With each new coil, their ability to move independently diminished further. If one shifted, the other was forced to accommodate the movement.
"That's not going anywhere," Kevin observed, giving the ropes a testing tug that made both captives grunt in discomfort.
The unmistakable sound of metal scraping against metal cut through the room—the sound of a knife being sharpened. Both captives went rigid, their breathing becoming shallow and rapid.
"So," Trevor began, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper, "I was thinking we start with something small. Maybe an ear?" The sharpening sound continued rhythmically. "People can live without an ear. It's mostly cartilage anyway."
Mike let out a panicked moan behind his gag, his entire body trembling against Josh's. Cold sweat began to bead on his forehead, soaking into the blindfold.
"Or fingers," Kevin suggested casually, as if discussing dinner options. "Start with the pinky. Nobody really needs that one." There was a pause, then the distinctive snip of what sounded like garden shears opening and closing. "These should work. Clean cut, minimal blood."
Josh violently twisted in his bonds, causing both of them to rock precariously. The ropes bit deeper into their skin as they struggled, their chests heaving against each other with terrified breaths.
"Hold them steady," Blake instructed. Hands gripped Mike's shoulders from behind, immobilizing him against Josh. "We don't want to cut anything we don't intend to."
The sound of the shears came closer, snipping the air near Josh's ear. He flinched violently, causing Mike to jerk in response. Their synchronized terror made the bonds seem even tighter.
"Maybe we should be more creative," Trevor mused. "Remember that cartel video we watched? They started with the balls."
Both captives let out muffled screams, their bodies drenched in cold sweat now. The blindfolds, rather than providing merciful ignorance, heightened every sensation and amplified every threatening sound.
"I've got the needle and thread ready," Kyle announced with clinical detachment. "For after. To stop the bleeding."
Something cold and sharp—the flat side of a blade—pressed against Mike's throat, just hard enough to be felt but not to cut. He froze completely, not even daring to swallow.
"The question is," Trevor continued, speaking directly into Josh's ear, "who goes first? The one who couldn't escape, or the one who thought he could do better?"
The knife moved from Mike's throat to trace a line down Josh's arm, the cold metal raising goosebumps in its wake.
"Or maybe," Kevin interjected, "we just take a little from each. Share the experience."
The shears snipped again, this time accompanied by the sound of fabric being cut. Both captives jolted as the cold metal slid between them, slicing through a small portion of their shirts—not touching skin, but demonstrating how easily it could.
"Let's put it to a vote," Trevor suggested. "Who thinks we should start with Mike's fingers?"
"Aye," came the chorus of voices.
"And who wants to see if Josh's ears are as tough as the rest of him?"
Another round of agreement.
The sound of ice clinking in a metal bowl added a new element of dread. "To numb the area first," Blake explained. "We're not monsters."
Mike was sobbing now, his tears soaking the blindfold as he shook uncontrollably. Josh had gone completely rigid, his muscles locked in terror.
"Wait," Trevor said suddenly. "Before we start cutting... let's make sure we have a clean surface."
The sound of a plastic tarp being unfurled and spread across the floor beside them was unmistakable.
"Perfect. Now we won't make a mess," Kyle said, his voice closer now. "Who's ready to begin?"The Final Prank
"You know what?" Trevor said suddenly, stepping back from the bound captives. "I've got a better idea."
The tension in the room shifted. Mike and Josh remained frozen in their chest-to-chest embrace, uncertain what this change in direction meant, their blindfolded faces glistening with sweat.
"Roll out that tarp more," Trevor instructed. "I want it completely flat."
The plastic sheeting crinkled loudly as it was spread fully across the wooden floor. Without warning, Trevor and Kyle pushed hard against the bound pair, toppling them sideways onto the tarp with a heavy thud. Unable to break their fall with their bound arms, they landed roughly, grunting in pain through their gags as their weight pressed against their restrained limbs.
"Get the stuff from the van," Trevor ordered, and footsteps hurried outside.
Mike and Josh lay awkwardly on their sides, still bound tightly together, now on the slick surface of the tarp. They twisted ineffectively, trying to find a more comfortable position, but their bonds left them little freedom of movement. Each struggle by one caused discomfort for both.
Moments later, the cabin door banged open again. "Got it all," Blake announced.
"Perfect," Trevor replied. "Let's begin."
The distinctive pop of a plastic cap being flipped open echoed in the room. "Who wants to go first?" Kevin asked, his voice heavy with anticipation.
"I'll start," Trevor volunteered. "Hold them steady."
Hands gripped the bound captives, rolling them slightly to expose their upper bodies. Something cold and wet suddenly squirted onto Josh's neck and exposed shoulders above the neckline of his t-shirt, making him flinch violently.
"There we go," Trevor commented, the sound of more caps opening filling the air. "Grab the big bottles."
Cold liquid suddenly poured over Mike's upper back and shoulders, soaking through his t-shirt instantly. The unmistakable smell of shampoo filled his nostrils, sickly sweet and overwhelming. More liquid followed, this time over Josh's shirt across his chest and upper arms.
"Make sure to get it under the collar," Blake instructed. "Work it in there."
Rough hands began rubbing the slippery substance into their clothing and exposed skin around their necks, pushing it beneath the collars of their t-shirts. The sensation was cold and invasive, the shampoo creating a slick layer that seeped through the fabric to the skin beneath.
"Now for the special touch," Kevin announced. The distinctive minty smell of toothpaste joined the shampoo's fragrance as something thick and cool was squirted in lines across their t-shirts.
"Art time," Trevor laughed, using his fingers to spread the toothpaste in patterns across the back of Mike's neck and shoulders. "War paint for our captive warriors."
More toothpaste followed, applied in thick stripes across Josh's chest and shoulders, visible as white lines against his dampened shirt. The minty sensation quickly transformed from cool to intensely tingling, especially where it made contact with skin at the neckline.
Trevor moved his attention to their faces, carefully smearing toothpaste around the edges of their blindfolds, close to their nostrils. The sharp, minty scent became overwhelming, making both captives twist their heads in a futile attempt to escape the powerful odor.
"Don't forget behind the ears," Blake suggested with a laugh. More toothpaste was applied in thick blobs behind both captives' ears, the cool paste quickly warming against skin and creating an intense tingling sensation.
"And just a little touch here," Kevin added, applying a thin line of toothpaste along the top edge of their gags, just below their nostrils. The menthol vapors immediately intensified their breathing difficulties, causing both to breathe more rapidly through their noses.
Both captives were shivering now, their upper bodies thoroughly soaked with the mixture of substances. Their once-white t-shirts now clung to their torsos, translucent with moisture and striped with white toothpaste patterns.
"Final touch," Trevor announced. The sound of a bag being opened was followed by the distinctive rush of flour being dumped out. The powder rained down over their upper bodies, immediately transforming the slick surfaces into a sticky, pasty mess.
"Roll them," Kevin instructed, and hands pushed at the bound pair, rolling their upper bodies slightly to ensure the mixture coated their shirts, necks, and exposed skin completely. The flour combined with the wet shampoo to create a thick, doughy substance that began to harden almost immediately upon exposure to air.
Mike and Josh struggled weakly, their movements hampered by the increasing stiffness of their soaked t-shirts as the flour-shampoo mixture began to set like a crude plaster. The toothpaste around their faces continued to emit strong menthol vapors, making each breath sharp and uncomfortable.
"Perfect," Trevor declared, stepping back to admire their work. "Now for the finale."
The edges of the tarp were grabbed and pulled up, wrapping around the bound captives like a giant burrito, adding yet another layer of confinement around their already restrained bodies. The plastic sheeting crinkled loudly as it was folded over them from all sides.
"Get more rope," Blake called, and fresh cord was soon being wrapped around the outside of the tarp bundle, cinching it tight at intervals from shoulders to ankles, creating a thoroughly immobilized cocoon.
Inside the tarp, Mike and Josh found themselves in complete darkness, pressed together in a humid, sticky embrace, the mixture of substances beginning to dry and harden against their skin and clothing. Every breath brought the sharp scent of mint and shampoo, the toothpaste around their nostrils ensuring they couldn't escape the overwhelming smell.
"There," Trevor announced, tying off the final knot on the outside of the tarp. "Our little present is all wrapped up."
"Think they'll escape from this one?" Kyle asked, voice heavy with sarcasm.
"Not a chance," Kevin replied. "But it'll be fun watching them try."
"Let's give them some privacy," Trevor suggested. "I need another beer anyway."
Footsteps moved away across the wooden floor, followed by the sound of bottles being opened and the casual conversation of the brothers resuming their drinking. Inside their multi-layered prison, Mike and Josh began the futile process of testing their bonds, each tiny movement causing discomfort as the drying mixture pulled at skin and hair, the plastic tarp crinkling loudly with every failed attempt at freedom.
The Release
Inside the tarp cocoon, time stretched impossibly. Each minute felt like an hour as Mike and Josh struggled against their multi-layered confinement. The mixture of flour, shampoo, and toothpaste had formed a stiff crust over their upper bodies, cracking painfully with every movement. The menthol vapors from the toothpaste near their nostrils made breathing increasingly uncomfortable, each inhale sharp and burning.
"Mmmph," Mike tried to communicate through his gag, his voice barely audible even to Josh, who was pressed directly against him.
Josh responded with his own muffled sound, a note of desperation evident. Both were thinking the same terrifying thought: What if they don't come back?
The isolation, the discomfort, and the thorough restraint combined to create a rising panic. Their chests heaved against each other as their breathing accelerated, the tarp crinkling loudly with every labored breath. Sweat mingled with the drying substances, creating an itching, burning sensation wherever skin met the mixture.
As the minutes crawled by, their fear transformed into genuine terror. The brothers had been drinking heavily. What if they passed out? What if they simply forgot? Out here, miles from campus, with no one knowing their location, they could be trapped for days. Or worse.
Josh renewed his struggles with desperate energy, causing the entire tarp bundle to rock slightly. The movement only served to tighten the outer ropes and crack more of the drying paste against their skin. Mike joined the effort, but their combined strength was no match for the layers of restraint.
Just as their panic reached its peak, the sound of approaching footsteps broke through their private nightmare. The door to the cabin banged open, and multiple voices filled the room, louder and more boisterous than before.
"Time to check on our mummies!" Trevor's voice called out, clearly amused and even more clearly intoxicated.
The tarp shifted as someone kicked it lightly. "You boys still alive in there?" Kevin asked, prompting muffled, urgent responses from inside.
"I think they want out," Blake observed with exaggerated surprise.
"Should we let them out?" Kyle asked the group. "I was kind of enjoying the peace and quiet."
More desperate sounds emerged from the tarp bundle.
"Alright, alright," Trevor relented. "Let's unwrap our little gift."
The outer ropes were cut away with several quick snips, the tension releasing immediately. The tarp was unwrapped and pulled back, exposing the bound captives to the light once more. Their appearance drew immediate laughter from the gathered brothers.
"Holy shit, you guys look ridiculous!" Kevin exclaimed, doubled over with laughter.
Mike and Josh blinked rapidly behind their blindfolds, disoriented by the sudden exposure. Their once-white t-shirts were now a mottled mess of shampoo, flour paste, and toothpaste, cracked and flaking in patches. White streaks of dried toothpaste extended from the edges of their blindfolds, giving them a ghoulish appearance.
"That's definitely a sight," Blake declared as he began to untie the ropes that bound them together.
As the chest-to-chest binding was removed, Mike and Josh fell apart from each other with audible groans of relief, still individually bound but no longer forced together. Trevor worked on removing their blindfolds and gags, the adhesive tape pulling painfully at their skin and hair.
"Freedom!" Trevor announced dramatically as he pulled the bandanna from Mike's mouth, then proceeded to do the same for Josh.
"Wow," Josh gasped, his voice hoarse from hours of being gagged. He blinked rapidly, adjusting to the light. "That was... something else."
"I never want to smell toothpaste again," Mike added, taking deep breaths of fresh air without menthol fumes assaulting his nostrils.
Kevin approached with bottles of water, holding them to their lips so they could drink while their hands remained bound. "You have to admit, we got you good."
"You definitely did," Mike admitted after gulping down half the bottle. "For a minute there, I thought we might be spending the night like that."
Trevor laughed, slapping Mike on the shoulder and sending flakes of dried paste flying. "Nah, we wouldn't do that to our brothers! Well, maybe for a few more hours, but not overnight."
"Look what we brought," Kyle announced, entering with several large pizza boxes and more beer. "Figured you might be hungry after all that escaping."
The smell of pizza momentarily overwhelmed the lingering scent of menthol and shampoo. Josh's stomach growled audibly.
"That actually smells amazing," he admitted, his demeanor softening at the sight of food.
"Untie us so we can eat?" Mike asked, looking at the crusty mixture coating his arms and shirt. "And maybe get this stuff off?"
"Coming right up," Trevor said, beginning to untie their wrists and ankles. The ropes left red marks where they had dug into skin. As circulation returned to their limbs, both Mike and Josh winced at the pins-and-needles sensation rushing through their arms and legs.
"I have to say," Josh remarked, flexing his fingers as the final rope fell away, "that was some serious rope work. No wonder we couldn't get out."
"I told you movie escapes were fake," Trevor said with a grin, tossing the coiled ropes into a corner.
Mike stretched his arms above his head, wincing slightly. "Lesson definitely learned. No more escape artist claims from me."
"Same," Josh agreed, attempting to brush some of the dried mixture from his shirt, succeeding only in creating a small cloud of flour dust. "Though I have to admit, that was probably the most intense experience of my life."
"Pizza and beer for everyone," Kevin announced, distributing paper plates. "And maybe later, you two can shower off whatever that crusty stuff is."
Despite their ordeal, Mike and Josh found themselves joining in the laughter as they reached for slices of pizza, their relief evident in their relaxed postures and easy smiles. There was a strange bond forming between all of them—the shared experience of a prank that had gone to extremes but ultimately strengthened their brotherhood.
"Next time," Josh said between bites, raising his beer in a toast, "we plan the adventure."
"Amen to that," Mike agreed, clinking his bottle against Josh's. "But maybe with less toothpaste."
The cabin filled with laughter as they settled in for the night, the ropes and tarp forgotten in the corner as stories of their ordeal were already being embellished and retold.
