MARK & KEITH
Mark was 198 cms tall (six-foot, six for the Luddites) and possessed of probably the finest physique that I’ve ever seen. He had punctiliously coiffed, wiry, mousy hair that seemed to have been glued into place. Keith was tall too, but not that tall, and much more slightly built but also very well defined with a dark grade 2 most of the time. These two were more than good friends and they didn’t care who knew it. Mark was intelligent and Keith less so but both devoted a lot of time to the training of the younger members of the Sea Scout Troop. No, there’s nothing sinister in this: they were just great young men. Keith is now married, Mark isn’t. But for years he made a good living as a top underwear model!
“Naked Hiking†was the name they gave to their habit of hiking for pleasure with full packs but, whenever possible, wearing only boots, socks, hats and black Speedos. (“Skins are waterproof, most clothing isn’tâ€) Let’s face it, the sight of two such well-built young men, showing off their muscles wasn’t the cause for many people to complain so they got away with it without objection for three years before Keith had to move away to follow the construction work at which he was so skilled.
There was one time when they packed for a four-day expedition to Kent, got on an early train (Christ, that was a long, slow journey!) and got the bus from Dover to Maxton. From there they intended to hike westwards. Navigation through Kentish farmland was far easier than through their native Forest. It was a warm and often even hot period of time so there was lots of “Naked Hikingâ€.
I knew the area quite well and suggested various farms and private properties that were known to welcome hikers. Indeed, Mark & Keith themselves had discovered one three years previously when their team got comprehensively lost on their Bronze Award practice hike. Their supervisor, “Ethelâ€, found them with their knees under the farmer’s table being regaled with food and drink!
They hiked, dressed as they preferred, until they came to their campsite (the exact whereabouts of which I shall not divulge) near Lyminge. Don’t bother to check: it’s only about 16 km. The site was secluded with a water tap that fed the cows’ drinking trough but not a lot else. That was more than their familiar Forest “Wild Sites†boasted!
The camp routine then went into auto-pilot. There were two scenarios:
• One of them would pitch camp and do all the work while the other was his master.
• One of them would be tied up while the other did the work.
They considered “Scissors, paper and stone†to be the fairest way to decide who was to choose what would happen.
“One, two, three,†forearms were pumped in unison and on, “Threeâ€, Mark extended straight fingers but Keith showed a fist. “Paper wraps stoneâ€, announced Mark. “I choose to tie you up. You haven’t stopped rabbiting since Dover.â€
Keith was already dressed for his imprisonment, a pair of black Speedos, full briefs with the Speedo flash on the right side. He’d already removed his boots and socks so that his feet could recover so all that was needed now was to remove his hat. Keith applied another layer of sun-block before surrendering to Mark
If Keith had a fault it was the ripeness of his language. That needed addressing. The habit of “Naked Hiking†left a fair bit of room in the lads’ rucksacks for “toys†especially as the availability of shops at various points along their route meant that they didn’t have to carry all their supplies.
Keith has the widest gape of anyone I’ve ever seen so, when Mark stuffed a tennis ball into his mouth, it was no surprise that it need very little forcing. I think this is where the current Sea Scouts got their favourite gagging technique. Mark then got some wide Elastoplast and, with three turns around his head, sealed Keith’s mouth completely. The words Keith was trying to say seemed to be, “- u-- -ew, -u-- -ew“, repeatedly. But, if the gag had allowed him to do so, Keith would have been smiling. He certainly made no attempt to use his, as yet, unfettered hands to resist.
“Hands on your head, elbows back.†Keith complied. Mark took ropes and tied Keith’s ankles tightly together and likewise above and below his knees while his prisoner had to stand there. As the tying proceeded, Keith’s knees started to buckle. Standing like that was nearly as uncomfortable as being tied in the first place. Once he had tied his friend’s legs, Mark checked that the tensions in the ropes were evenly distributed and not digging in too cruelly.
Mark looked around the site for a suitable tree. He found one.
Keith was ordered to cross his wrists in front of him where they were expertly square-lashed with something resembling a child’s skipping rope (but without the handles!) Keith was made to bunny-hop towards the tree. Mark then took another longer rope. He threaded the rope between Keith’s arms and tied a double figure-of eight in the free ends well clear of Keith’s long fingers. He then threw the longer free end of the rope over a branch and hauled Keith’s hands - not too high - above his head. “Kneel.†came the order and Keith complied, yanking the rope down a bit.
Keeping the rope tight, Mark looped it twice between Keith’s wrists tying it off before continuing to his ankles. With some difficulty, he threaded the ends of the rope between the tightly bound legs, pulled the rope through with many resultant (and, thankfully, muffled) imprecations and yanked upwards hard. This lifted Keith’s feet off the ground leaving him supported only on his knees. A few more turns between the ankles and a secure set of knots finished the job.
Mark gave his captive a friendly shove just to watch him rocking slightly to and fro and with the word, “Enjoy.†turned his attentions to pitching camp.