“We found out a long time ago that there’s no point in trying to torture information out of prisoners. They just say what they think we want them to say so that the torture stops. Even if they do tell the truth, which usually they don’t, they only retract it as soon as the pain stops. So we’ve had a better idea. We’re going to torture the crap out of you for a whole day before you even get a chance to speak. After that, we think you might want to tell us the truth especially as the torture won’t stop until we’ve had the chance to check it out. Brace yourself, Scottie boy”
It was already too late for Scott to confess and tell his captors where he and his mates had hidden the trophies they had nicked from their cabinet because he was already comprehensively gagged. With Scott, protest was mainly for the sake of form in any case but even he didn’t think he could take a whole day at the hands of the Sea Scouts. They hadn’t even agreed on a safe word.
SMACK! Scott hit the ground with a bone-shaking thump as Evan brought him down with a rugby tackle. It had taken the three pursuers more than twenty minutes to catch him. He’d hoped that he was faster but certainly the older boys were just as fit and, more to the point, stronger than he was and the end was really in no doubt.
“Alright, alright, I give in. OK?”
“Shut up, Scott, and just do what you’re told.”
Action Man and GP caught up and the three “hunters” went about securing their prey. They were taking no chances until they’d got Scott to somewhere more secure. Action Man’s belt was pulled tightly round his arms and his wrists were quickly secured by a few perpendicular turns of the packing tape that GP produced.
GP explained carefully that they didn’t want to blindfold their captive because it would slow down their progress to the Log Cabin. He then made it pretty clear that, if Scott made any noise at all, he’d end up being gagged with his own underpants. Scott indicated that he understood the implications.
It didn’t take too long to get to the Log cabin and there was no great need for conversation; Scott knew why he’d been hunted down. It was just a question of how long he could hold out against GP’s experienced “interrogation” techniques and whether it was worth the pain. Remember: this is Scott we’re talking about!
Once the boys had arrived at the Log cabin, GP started, “Now, what we’re going to do is probably going to hurt a bit so open wide, please.” There was no point in trying to avoid the inevitable so Scott, who was already on his knees, opened his mouth. A necker was quickly folded and secured in one of the surgical stockings that the Sea Scouts had somehow “acquired”. GP twirled the stocking, stuffed the packing into Scott’s mouth, shoved his chin towards his chest and tied the stocking tightly behind his neck. Scott looked up and saw Action Man starting to unwrap a fresh roll of packing tape. Scott tried to assure him that it wasn’t really necessary but Action Man didn’t seem to understand, maybe that was because Scott was already gagged. Action Man was not known for his artistic pretentions but, after he’d finished wrapping the tape round Scott’s face and neck and under his chin, the others thought he’d made a pretty smart job of it.
“OK, you know the rules. Are you going to strip or are we going to help you?” As GP asked this, Scott could see Evan and Action Man opening their clasp knives. “Strip?” Scott nodded almost enthusiastically. Action man retrieved his belt and Evan cut the tape from Scott’s wrists. The captors obviously meant business judging by the marks on his arms and wrists. Having previously been a “guest” at the Log Cabin, Scott knew that the only escape was via the front door. There was no hope with GP guarding it.
Scott started to rub his arms and wrists. The approach of the boys with their open clasp knives made him change his mind. “Mnn mnn nguu.” With that, Scott removed his smart white, but now dirty, shirt and sat on the floor to remove his shoes and socks.
“Take out your shoe laces.” I think the word Scott tried to say was, “Bastard” but I can’t be sure. He did so and stood up to unzip his trousers prior to dropping them and stepping out of them. Then he waited. So did GP, Evan and Action Man. He looked at them in hope. They all waited. As soon as Scott put his fingers in the waistband of his underpants, GP stopped him. “Those little boxer briefs of yours are quite tight round your legs aren’t they?” The question was rhetorical but Scott was pretty sure he understood its implication. No, this time the word he tried to say couldn’t have been “bastard”; it only had one syllable. “Leave them on. I think they’ll be useful.”
“We don’t have all the special kit that you pervs seem to have but I think this will meet Sir’s requirements.” While GP said this, Action Man and Evan grabbed Scott and hauled him over to the huge refectory table while he picked up Scott’s laces making remarks about their being useful later for tying Scot’s “smaller parts”.
Scott was quickly manhandled, face up, onto the huge table. The Sea Scouts had added large eye-bolts under the table top many years ago. It has been noted in previous stories that it was large enough to accommodate two spread-eagled occupants when called upon to do so but today Scott was to have exclusive use of it.
Action Man knew that Scott was going to be in place for several hours and went into full safety mode when binding his wrists and checking the tension before handing the free ends from his right wrist to GP and those from his left to Evan. They quickly pulled the ends of their ropes through two of the eye-bolts and tied them off under the table top.
Action Man went into action again with Scott’s ankles. The free ends were threaded through two more eye bolts under the other end of the table but, instead of tying them off this time, Evan and GP pulled Scott a bit tighter and tied the ropes together. Scott wondered why they hadn’t stretched him tighter but that was only because he couldn’t see what was under the table. Once GP had inserted a broom handle between the ropes and the table top, all he had to do was twist it to answer Scott’s unspoken question. Once Scott gave up trying not to protest, GP stopped twisting. A quick twang of the ropes on top of the table cued Evan to state his satisfaction with the tension in them. The other two boys then tied the ends of the broomstick to two more carefully positioned eyebolts. There was no way the stick was going to unwind. That meant that there was no way Scott was going to find much possibility of movement.
It also meant that there were very few impediments to access to whatever parts of Scott’s body that his captors required.
GP thought that it was time to start helping Scott imagine the worst so he went into the galley and found T-Boy’s tin of chilli powder which he brought in front of Scott’s eyes before placing it on the table, grinning in Scott’s face and giving the waist-band of his boxer-briefs a twang. The next thing Scott saw was Evan carrying a weird assortment of items: feathers, toothbrushes and a scrubbing brush. He placed these on the table as well. The last thing Scott saw was Action Man ostentatiously carrying a handful of drawing pins and tin-tacks which he also placed on the table in a neat pile. The only reason that was the last thing he saw was the several rounds of packing tape that GP wound round his head and over is eyes.
“Think about it.” Scott heard GP’s voice as he felt his nipples manipulated. He guessed what would happen next. He was right. A searing pain shot through his chest as Evan and Action Man clipped small bulldog clips onto both his nipples simultaneously. Tightly secured as he was, Scott’s backside left the surface of the table by several centimetres before landing again.
GP then explained why Scott wasn’t going to be allowed to speak for quite some time.
With that, Scott heard footsteps leaving and the door slamming.
Scott started struggling furiously in spite of being capable of hardly any movement at all other than wiggling his hands and feet. Action Man had done his job well, The Sea Scouts knew Scott was good for several hours without being able to escape or of being in any danger of circulation problems – unless they were self-inflicted.
When Scott heard the door open again, he could hear people nearing him. The really unnerving thing was that no one was saying anything as they approached. Simultaneously six sets of fingers probed just about every exposed part of Scott’s body, tickling him mercilessly and in unpredictable places. With so little room for manoeuvre, there was no escape for Scott and his writhing, although limited was very intense as was his muffled squealing.
“Ah, I think he’s enjoying it.” remarked GP, breaking his silence at last. “We can’t have that, can we?” The tickling desisted. Scott wondered what next. Then he felt the bulldog clips being flicked in unison. Another stop. The tormentors had planned very well and indicated by gesture alone to each other what was to happen next. The clips were pulled roughly from Scott’s chest and the feathers were used very slowly and with worrying gaps between applications to all parts of Scott’s body. There was another stop and Scott heard his tormentors leave again.
He had no idea how much time had passed when he heard the door again.
This time he could hear fingers drumming on the table. What the . . ? Then the drumming became interrupted by frenzied bouts of tickling before resuming again and so it went on. Not knowing when the attack would come was almost unbearable. The three boys knew what they were doing. Then the drumming stopped suddenly and Scott heard people leaving again. He started to breathe more easily. Then suddenly a prolonged tickle attack started again. Scott hadn’t taken into account that perhaps not all of his tormentors had left. Evan stopped just before Scott would have been forced to wet himself and once more left without saying anything.
Another unknown length of time elapsed and the door opened again. Someone approached. They checked that Scott was still secure and left again.
More time passed.
When the door opened next time, Scott would probably have told the truth if he was able to do so but he knew that his ordeal would simply continue. He just had to accept it.
He felt himself lifted, even as slightly as was possible, while spiky objects were placed under him. His captors left again. Every time Scott tried to move, he simply got scratched and the spikes pricked him somewhere else. When his captors returned, he felt himself being whipped, not hard but stinging nettles hurt and they made him twitch on the tacks that formed his mattress. This assault didn’t last long before he was lifted again while the drawing pins and tin tacks were swept carefully from underneath him. Although that was merciful, the minor scratches, picks and nettle stings left their painful legacy when the gaolers left again.
As GP, Evan and Action Man reappeared the next time, Scott tried begging and flexing his thighs, trying to indicate that he needed the toilet.
“Need the Loo?”
“Erph.” accompanied a frantic nodding of the head. In normal captures, the prisoner might be put on his honour and allowed a toilet break but GP was in no mood for showing mercy. Scott felt something being pulled underneath him and left there.
“Ok, let it go, Farmer Boy.” Scott didn’t want to give them the satisfaction but he knew well what would happen if another tickle session started. Later on he found out that he’d been laid on a groundsheet with an old blanket folded several times on top of it. While he was left on his own this time, Scott managed to summon new levels of resolve and kept himself dry.
Scott thought that there was only one thing he’d seen at the beginning of his ordeal that hadn’t been used on him yet. The more he waited, the more he dreaded it. Oh, for Christ’s sake, they had to let him spill the beans soon. Didn’t they?
When his “hosts” returned this time, Scott felt the tension in his limbs loosen. Action Man had undone the tensioning broomstick and was allowing it to untwist. Scott’s protracted grunt betrayed the fact that he was more in need of release than he would ever have wanted to admit. Once The ropes had been separated and pulled out of the eye-bolts, the one on his right ankle was removed completely and Action Man formed a rope-cuff with the other one leaving a fairly rigid thirty centimetre link between Scott’s ankles.
Once Scott’s legs had been freed from the table so were his wrists which Action Man tied, cuffed in a similar way, in front of him. Before Scott could use his hands, one of the redundant ropes was used to draw his hands down in front of him before it was passed between his legs and, as GP yanked it tight before tying it off round Scott’s neck, it pinched more than a bit and Scott nearly lost his hard-won bladder control. By now Scott had been pulled off the table and was wriggling (and swearing luridly) in a vain attempt to free his private parts from the rope.
The entertainment value was worth more than any need to get on with the next stage of their planned torments so the Sea Scouts just let Scott struggle for a while even after he’d fallen onto the floor. Eventually Scott managed to slip the rope beside his more delicate parts and stopped wriggling even if he didn’t stop trying to share his opinion of the other three boys with them.
“OK, let’s go.” GP’s voice again. The only instruction that the gaolers had exchanged since Scott’s imprisonment had started. Evan picked up the ankle cuff and Action Man and GP took an arm each and carried Scott face down outside the Log cabin. With THAT rope both digging in and putting strain on his neck, Scott continued his still thoroughly muffled attempts to let the world know what he thought.
Scott was dropped onto the ground and GP started to undo the rope from round his neck. He didn’t remove it completely but Scott found his arms pulled up until he was forced to stand with his arms raised. It was obvious that GP had thrown the free ends of the rope over something or the other and tied them off round his wrist cuffs. Scott could stand fairly easily as his captors made little attempt to pull the rope tight but he couldn’t bend his arms very much.
As usual, his hosts left him to contemplate his position once more. Scott started exploring the knots. He thought he was starting to make some progress
I have split the story here because I can post no more than ten pictures an a particular thread. Please see below for the rest of the tale.