A Training Exercise

Postby xtc » Sun Feb 20, 2011 8:58 am

I thought I'd be a bit quiet on this site until I'd finished a story that I am posting on DeviantArt as Xtcgm.

Unfortunately something happened!

This story is dedicated to W3sKer96 who definitely provided the non-ignorable inspiration for what I thought would be a short story of about 6000 words. Serves me right for being a long-winded old fart.

I must also thank Tiedup101 for yet another guest appearance. But that comes later.
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A TRAINING EXERCISE



“You realise that this is a work of charity.” he said to the American kid once his associates had presented him to their employer. “My associates were getting out of practice so I thought that they could try to oblige you. I hope you haven’t been disappointed.” In spite of the fact that he’d got what he asked for, he still seemed to be terrified of what might happen to him next.

-----00000------


Jeremy was paying his regular visit to Walmart but today he had a better reason than usual to do so. It was the only place in the backwater in which he lived to buy the stuff that he needed for his forthcoming trip to Dallas. Not being stupid, he wasn’t expecting it to be just the way it was portrayed on the television but it had to be more exciting than Commerce where he was living.

Just as he was nearing the entrance, a large guy with the same colouring as his but a very different accent approached him and said, “Hello, I’m Phil, sometimes I’m called Big Phil.”

Why this stocky, Asiatic looking Brit, whom he’d never seen before, should speak to him he didn’t know but the address did throw him off his guard.

“This is my friend, Will. Our boss would like to meet you.” As he said this, a tall, square-shouldered, tanned white guy moved in on his other side. “Now, you could shout and draw attention to yourself. If you do so, my colleague will drug you with the hypodermic that, if you just look down, you will see. We will then just depart and before anybody realises that there’s a problem, we’ll be gone like vegetarians at a hog roast. The problem you have is to decide whether to risk the drug or not.”

Jeremy looked down and saw the syringe in Will’s hand shielded from sight by his own body and, when he looked up again saw the mock friendly smile on Will’s face that he’d affected so that no one would become suspicious.

“Co-operate?” Said Phil. Jeremy was no shrimp at six foot plus but he looked up a good three inches into Will’s face and very little less to look Phil in the eye.

Jeremy nodded.

“I’m glad about that.” said Phil, “You see: I’m half Filipino too, that’s why the Professor sent me on this mission, but I like to think I’ve got a more traditional build.” He also kept a mock-friendly smile on his face while he was talking and, to be fair, Phil did look as if he walked through walls for training.

“Come this way, please. And don’t forget, my silent friend here is just dying to practice his hypodermic skills.”

The two Brits marched their new acquaintance to a panel van parked as close to the store as possible. The disablity card in the window must have been a forgery. Will opened the rear doors and Phil nodded his head towards the interior. Jeremy took the hint.

Once the doors had been closed with him and his abductors inside, Phil knocked on the front of the compartment and shouted, “Got him. Go. Go. Go!” and the van took off. It took a while for Jeremy to take in the situation even though he realised that he had been abducted. Neither of his captors was restraining him and he looked round. The van had no windows and was running surprisingly quietly. He noticed that the inside seemed to have been adapted in an unusual fashion. There were slats along the sides and two poles reaching from the floor to the ceiling.

“We’ve been told to take you to meet our boss. We know you post on “Stories of Tie Up Games” so I expect you have heard of the Professor. He’d just like a little word with you.” Jeremy was still confused as he was new to the site but he’d realised some time ago that there was no point in resisting his captors. He just hoped that he wouldn’t be beaten or drugged.

“You wanted to know what sort of building would be good for bondage so our boss thought we ought to show you one. Problem is, it’s nowhere near Dallas. Have you ever been to England?”

Jeremy didn’t even have a passport. Even if he did, he wouldn’t have been carrying it for a visit to Walmart. So the stunned answer was, “No.”

“You’d be surprised how lax the security is on some of the local airports in the US. It’s quite easy to get what you call an “airplane” off the ground at a private airport without too many questions being asked and, with the Professor’s connections and a forged export certificate, we don’t even expect to meet with any problems at all.”

Jeremy just about managed to hold it together at that stage but it was a close run thing.

Will produced several lengths of rope from a locker in the van and Phil grabbed Jeremy and pulled him towards one of the poles. It was only then that Jeremy realised that he must be riding in a very special van as there as very little jostling around. The usual movements due to travelling had been significantly damped.

Will took a rope and pulled Jeremy’s arms together behind the pole. In spite of the fact that he was fairly slender, there was no way Will could get his elbows to meet behind the pole but Jeremy was left with hardly any slack once Will had finished. Just to restrict Jeremy’s potential movement even further, his hands were forced palm to palm and his wrists bound in parallel before being cinched firmly. The finishing touch was the short piece of paracord binding his thumbs together.

Until the discomfort of being tied to the post started to set in, Jeremy had thought it better to remain quiet but Will was not being too gentle with him. Then he started to gob off.

“I’d advise you to stop that.” suggested Big Phil. But Jeremy took no notice. “Sorry, mush. I did warn you.” With that and with Jeremy’s mouth at full yell, a tennis ball that had been split was quickly shoved into his mouth with the split at the front. Will had a rope that had been prepared for the purpose. It had a very short Bridport dagger tied into it with the bight reduced to a size just about big enough to accept the free end of the rope. He forced the thickened rope into the split in the tennis ball and threaded the free end through the bight. Once it had been pulled tight, the gag was pulled hard back into Jeremy’s mouth. More tightening and fiddling left Jeremy unable to move his tongue or to close his lips. The final layer was added when Phil plastered a huge piece of Elastoplast between the prisoner’s chin and his nose and most of the way to his ears.

“Sorry, mush, I did warn you.” repeated Phil. Jeremy had always wanted to be kidnapped and gagged – or so he thought. Now it was actually happening, he was no longer so sure. His short-sleeved shirt provided no protection form the ropes pulling his elbows back and the rope of his gag was already more than uncomfortable.

In spite of the van’s damping action, Jeremy still stood with his feet apart to try to take the pressure off his bonds. Will and Phil let him stay like that. It was going to be a long journey.

Jeremy tried pleading to be allowed down from the post but his pleas were totally indecipherable. “Oh, don’t look at me like that, brother.” said Phil sounding almost sincere, “I can’t stand it.” With that, his customary sparkling, dark-eyed grin appeared again as he wrapped another large strip of Elastoplast over his victim’s eyes and smoothed the edges carefully onto his face.

Having secured their quarry, Will and Phil pulled some seats and a table down from the side of the van and settled down for a game of cards and a round of disgusting (and grotesquely exaggerated) stories. Once all the stories had been exhausted, they took a kip; it was, as has been said, to be a long journey.

Jeremy had to try to stand throughout the ordeal. After about two hours, he would have promised anything to be allowed to sit; after three hours he would have promised more than that to have been allowed a drink. He hadn’t thought about that when he wrote about being gagged on the TUGs site. After four hours he felt the van stop. He couldn’t hear anything going on outside as the van was efficiently sound-proofed and he was desperate to get off his feet, desperate for a drink and even more desperate for a piss. Perhaps now he’d be taken out of the van?

His hopes were dashed when he felt the van start up again and start to move forwards. They seemed to be climbing a ramp but at least it was a very short journey.

-----00000-----


“Listen carefully.” came the voice that he was coming to recognise as Phil’s, “You are going on a very long journey. You can either be kept like this: bound to a post, standing for eight hours, thirsty, hungry and, probably even worse, wet when you lose control of your bladder. Or would you like to co-operate?”

Jeremy nodded enthusiastically initially forgetting the post behind his head.

“Good. You will follow my instructions carefully. Do you agree? Jeremy nodded in a rather more restrained fashion.

He then felt what he presumed to be a hood pulled over his head and laced tightly into position. His muffled whimpering was ignored by both Will and Phil. Will cut the ropes and cord fastening Jeremy’s arms and thumbs; Jeremy fell forwards breaking his fall with his arms.

“Don’t make a fuss.” instructed Will, “Just get your clothes off. All of them.”

For just about a millisecond Jeremy considered disobeying. After that he just fumbled around until he was naked. As he obeyed instructions to stand up and was trying to protect his modesty with his hands, Jeremy was told by Phil that he would be taken to the toilet.

I think a faint “Ngggh nnn” could be taken as “Thank god” or equivalent as he felt his arms back-hammered and felt himself propelled forwards and, as he assumed, out of the van and into a small lavatory cubicle.

“Get on with it, you’ll have to feel round for the bog roll and don’t even think of trying to interfere with your hood.” Jeremy heard a door slam shut and he did that of which he was in desperate need and then felt himself being pulled to his feet. “Put these on.” Jeremy found some fabric in his hands. With a little manual dexterity he managed to get the briefs the right way round. By some miracle, he then managed to insert the appropriate parts of himself through the correct apertures and to pull the briefs into place and fasten the draw-string. Jeremy could feel that the garment was at least two sizes too small but he had no way of objecting.

Here’s his situation: he was standing with the tan lines on his naturally light olive coloured skin displayed bizarrely by the over-tight white Speedos he was wearing, he could hear noises like an engine going and could feel considerable vibrations through his feet. He was also completely blindfolded, heavily gagged and finding breathing far from easy due not only to the gag but also because of the all-encompassing hood he was wearing.

Will and Phil were deciding how to restrict their victim’s movements during his forthcoming journey. They decided that tying his wrists behind him for that length of time would soon become painful. At least Jeremy was glad to hear that they were taking some care of his well-being. Eventually he found himself pushed onto a well padded seat into which he was securely strapped around his waist and chest. Phil and Will continued with their task. Will tied Jeremy’s hands in a cross in front of him and pulled them down to the seat of his chair, tethering them to a ring in the floor. With that one of his captors removed the constricting mask; at least now he could breathe a bit more easily.

Will tied the twenty year-old Asian American’s ankles, not too tightly, and fashioned a short rope cuff between them which he then fastened off to the same ring in the floor he had used for his wrist rope. Their job thus done, the two kidnapers strapped themselves in and told the pilot they were ready. It was only then that Jeremy realised that he had been secured in an aeroplane. His panic intensified again and, as the transport plane started to taxi, he started to thrash around as best he could.

His captors ignored him all the while the plane taxied and gained altitude. One they were in level flight Will unstrapped himself and ent over to the still ineffectually flailing Jeremy. He grabbed his hair to keep his head still and pinched his nostrils. After about thirty seconds Jeremy stopped struggling and sat still.

“That’s better.” said Will calmly, “We can’t have you thrashing around like that; you might injure yourself.” At the first sign of Jeremy’s starting to struggle again, Will cut off his breathing once more. Jeremy settled more quickly this time. “You can either listen to me or I can extend the breath deprivation until you pass out. Listen?” Jeremy did his best to nod and Will allowed him to breathe once more.

“You have about eight hours before we land. Either I can drug you or deprive you of breath until you pass out. Neither process is very safe. Or you can co-operate. You might even be allowed to eat and drink. Just imagine having that gag in place for eight hours even if you are unconscious. What do you think it will feel like after eight hours? Or would you rather co-operate?” Will let go of Jeremy’s hair and said, “Grunt twice if you want to co-operate.”

“Aaanh! Aaanh!”

“Wise decision. Now sit quietly; my mate, Phil, needs his beauty sleep.”

“Watch it, Monkey Man.” responded Phil. Will didn’t like that nickname. He’d had it since junior school because of his characteristically shaped jaw and lips. Nevertheless, his good mate Phil could get away with it where anyone else would probably have been on the wrong end of a beating.

After having left Jeremy for about an hour to see if he was going to behave himself, Phil went over to the prisoner and offered him a drink as long as he promised not to make a noise. Let’s face it, in a transport plane at that altitude it wouldn’t matter if he made as much noise as a passing jumbo jet, no one except the crew was going to hear him. It was just a part of a prisoner’s necessary conditioning.

“Don’t forget: one word and the gag goes back in and stays there for at least the next eight hours.” Phil saw his prisoner nod and started the prolonged process of un-gagging him. There was an inevitable muffled squeal as Phil quickly ripped off the Elastoplast and extracted a fair amount of Jeremy’s un-shaven facial hair. Will’s rope creation had been pulled tight enough to be really difficult to untie. It wasn’t even loose enough to pull out and lodge round its wearer’s neck and Phil’s effort to do so caused Jeremy to utter a mercifully muffled opinion about overweight Limey’s. Eventually Phil managed to loosen the bight enough to start withdrawing the free end of the rope. It left an unpleasant rope burn near Jeremy’s right cheek in spite of his attempt to be careful. A few more seconds and the pressure was off the sides of Jeremy’s mouth. Phil hooked the sodden tennis ball out of his mouth and Jeremy waggled his jaw. How long had it been since he could move his jaw?

Will held the mouth-piece of a camel pack up to Jeremy’s mouth where he cold feel it and said, “Drink.” Jeremy accepted and even thanked his captor afterwards. “Eat.” came the next instruction as Jeremy felt something else held to his lips. Will proceeded to offer up the Black Farmer’s mutton stew to Jeremy’s mouth. It was hot but most welcome and, even blindfolded, Jeremy managed to eat it ravenously. Chocolate covered Kendal Mint cake might not be to everyone’s taste but Jeremy didn’t know when, or even if, he’d be offered anything else so he ate the entire bar as it was given to him. “Drink?” Will was not exactly in conversational mode.

Jeremy said, “Yes, please.” and Will gave him the camel pack again.

“Right, all done?”

“Thank you.”

“OK. Open up.”

“Please!”

“Be careful what you say, boy.”

“Please, I know you’re going to gag me but I don’t think I could stand having that tennis ball in my mouth for the next god knows how many hours.”

“That’s alright. I’ve got something different here. Just remember: if you manage to expel it, or still mange to make too much noise, I’ve got a more extreme version I want to try out.”

Not that Jeremy could see what was happening to him but Will had tied a far longer version of the Bridport dagger in a thin rope which he jammed between Jeremy’s teeth. The knot must have been little short of fifteen centimetres long and stuck out each side of the victim’s mouth by quite a bit. Will reduced the bight until it was little bigger than the cross-section of the rope it was made of and threaded the free end through and pulled tight. Once it had been tied off Jeremy was completely unable to close either his teeth or his lips but his tongue was far less encumbered than it had been by the tennis ball.

“Comfy?” asked Will. Jeremy did not dignify that with an answer.

If he tried to speak, Jeremy could probably have just about made himself understood but he didn’t think it was worth a try all the while Will had his threatened more extreme version in reserve.



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I'm taking a few days in Belgium but please feel free to comment even though I won't be able to reply for a few days.
Boxer shorts are cool,
but little speedos rule!

More by the same author: viewtopic.php?f=5&t=22729

Re: A Training Exercise

Postby w3sKer96 » Mon Feb 21, 2011 8:55 am

Thanks for this XTC. I hope I am...inspiring. Can't wait to see the rest.

Re: A Training Exercise

Postby sarumansauron » Mon Feb 21, 2011 1:00 pm

Good! Thanks!
I love TUGS and TICKLING Torture!!!!!

Re: A Training Exercise

Postby Jack Roper » Mon Feb 21, 2011 3:48 pm

Great story; well written, and easy to follow. Can't wait for the next chapter.

Delete

Postby MattyH » Mon Feb 21, 2011 10:40 pm

Delete
Last edited by MattyH on Fri Dec 09, 2011 7:34 pm, edited 1 time in total.

Re: A Training Exercise

Postby w3sKer96 » Tue Feb 22, 2011 10:44 pm

Jeremy (me, for real) agrees with Matty. continue please haha.

Re: A Training Exercise

Postby Jason Toddman » Wed Feb 23, 2011 8:43 pm

So far so good. :D
Dare to be different... and make a difference.
To boldly go where no one in their right mind has gone before...

Re: A Training Exercise

Postby xtc » Sun Feb 27, 2011 11:01 am

A TRAINING EXERCISE


The rest of the journey was uneventful until it was time to get ready for landing. Phil loosened the rope that was keeping Jeremy’s aching jaws apart and offered him a drink. Having accepted it, Jeremy found his mouth stuffed with something that just seemed to keep coming and keep coming. Phil had taken a large lump of artificial sponge and packed it into his mouth before ordering him to close his lips around it. He did his best to do so before the usual large piece of Elastoplast was fastened across the lower half of his face. At least he managed to expel some of the desiccating sponge into his cheeks and into the gap between his teeth and his lips. At least he thought he would not gag now.

The plane landed on what felt like a very rough landing strip and some time was spent by the abductors arranging things for Jeremy’s transport from there on. The van, which had earlier been clamped down to the transporter’s floor, was released and the rear doors opened. Someone brought a specially designed chair and clamped it down to the floor of the van.

Phil told Jeremy that he was going to be taken in a van to meet his employer and Will warned him against trying anything funny once he was untied from the aircraft seat. Anything he did try would have probably been fruitless in any case as Will replaced the restrictive hood in place and laced it tightly. Jeremy instantly found his breathing restricted which was panicking, but Will knew that it was not enough to put his life in danger. Phil released his ankles and wrists from the ring on the floor and Will un-buckled the belts around his waist and chest then he took his wrists, re-tied them to have a short rope cuff between them and positioned them behind his neck and tied them in place with a simple, loose loop of rope round his neck. Jeremy found himself pulled from the seat and heaved over someone’s shoulder. He was carried to the van like so many potatoes and thrown in the back.

Once Will had decanted him Phil dragged him across the floor to the chair and sat him on it. His feet could not touch the ground and the seat seemed to be longer than is usual. A strap was buckled across his chest and he was pulled tightly against the back of the chair. Another strap round his waist didn’t do anything to take his mind off the fact that he was in some need of micturating. This strap had two narrower ones attached to the front which were passed under his backside and pulled tight through two buckles attached to a cross bar about fifteen centimetres up the back of the chair. The Speedos were tight enough by themselves but now they had been made to press even more uncomfortably against his bits and there was no room for squirming even before the next restraints were applied.

Jeremy found his ankles being untied and his legs were pulled uncomfortably apart and fastened to the front legs of the chair. His ankles were strapped into a pair of recessed wooden blocks and his knees were pulled towards the corners of the seat.

Will as getting fed up with the muffled protests by then and reminded Jeremy that his gag could be made even more effective if he didn’t stop whining and complaining. When Will let go of Jeremy’s jaw, he tried to calm down.

Neither Phil nor Will thought it was worth retying their victim’s arms or removing his hood as the road journey wouldn’t, in their opinion, be a long one. Jeremy thought that perhaps he might have a different opinion.

-----00000-----


The van backed out of the transporter and made for the nearest motorway. Ben, the driver, was an expert at driving inconspicuously. A very smooth journey was followed by a rather more twisting and turning passage as the van approached its destination.

The gates to the Manor grounds opened automatically as the van approached and closed behind it afterwards. Whin Hill Manor is an almost archetypical jettied and half-timbered manor house. Not old enough to be a bay-house or to be built out of wattle & daub but it did have a cellar, two secret passages and a priest hole along with extensive attic accommodation which had seen better days. Some serious panelling still remained from restoration times and much of the brickwork was obviously Jacobean. One of the most useful aspects as far as the Professor and his “Foundation” were concerned was the surrounding estate that afforded complete privacy and total freedom from being overlooked.

Ben drove the van slowly up the drive and round to the back door of the Manor where it was met by Paul, who was acting as Receptionist for the event. “The Prof. wants him dumped in the cellar. He can’t be bothered with him until after breakfast. If he behaves, let him go to the loo and feed him. If he doesn’t, just strip him off and we’ll hose him down in a few hours time. He should be feeling more co-operative by then and the Old Man’s in no hurry. Hearing this, Jeremy was determined to “behave”.

First the strap round Jeremy’s chest was unbuckled and he was forced to lean as far forwards as his waist strap would allow. Will then removed the rope that kept his hands behind his neck and freed his wrists. Without allowing any massage or stretching time Will then tied his elbows very close together behind him and unbuckled the waist and crutch straps. Jeremy nearly wet himself then and there but, with a considerable force of will, managed not to do so. Will then tied his wrists palm to palm and joined his thumbs with a small cable tie and his little fingers with another.

At least the stress on his arms and shoulders helped to take his mind off his need to urinate. His ankles and knees were released from the chair as he felt a strap looped round his neck which was then used to yank him to his feet. Having been so restrictively restrained for so long, Jeremy immediately collapsed back onto the chair as soon as the tension on the strap was released. After several attempts he managed to support himself as long as he kept his legs well apart. He was allowed some time to stabilise his posture before being led out of the van but he was so unstable that Will just heaved him up onto his shoulder again and carried him into the Manor House and down some steps into the cellar.

He could hear what sounded like other people trying to make themselves understood through gags and guessed that he wasn’t the only prisoner in this unknown place. He wasn’t sure whether that was comforting or not. Will let him down onto his feet relatively gently and pulled his briefs off. That panic very nearly caused Jeremy to loose control of his bladder but, as he was about to do so, he felt himself pushed onto a seat that felt like a lavatory seat. He couldn’t care who was watching him; he just opened his knees and made water! Other things were just as pressing and he couldn’t stop himself. He was at rock bottom. Phil even seemed to be trying to comfort him by saying, “Don’t worry, it’s nothing we haven’t seen before.” Not very comforting really.

He felt the cable ties being cut and his wrists being untied. Then he was given the necessary paper and, with some difficulty, cleaned himself. He sat in silence. The sounds of other people’s protestations continued unabated. He awaited developments.

There was the sound of someone else coming down the steps into the cellar. It was Paul bearing the Professor’s greetings.

“Morning, Yank. The Professor says he’ll see you in a couple of hours. Then, if you behave, you’ll be fed. What happens after that is up to the Professor.” Jeremy was still confused as to why the Professor should have taken the trouble to get his associates to abduct him. As far as he knew until then the Prof. was just a figment of Xtc’s fevered imagination. Xtc was a writer on a TUGs site that he’d just joined. Surely all those characters couldn’t really exist? A stupid thought hit him as things so often do when one is in extremis: If they do exist, why the hell couldn’t he have been abducted by Snobound instead?

Paul confirmed his boss’s orders to Will and Phil but Jeremy couldn’t hear them very well as they were being discussed very quietly and the hood impaired his hearing to a considerable extent.

“OK, will do.” Said Will’s voice as Jeremy heard a set of footsteps climbing the steps again. With that Phil approached Jeremy and removed his hood.

“I’ve been told exactly what to do to you next but that’s only if you co-operate. If you don’t, you’ve already had a little taste of the cable ties. Imagine having them applied all over your body and pulled tight; tighter than would be possible with ropes. How long do you think you could stand having them digging into you? Minutes, hours, days?” Now this WAS getting scary!

“But don’t worry.” Phil interjected, “As long as you co-operate, I won’t let the nasty Will do that to you. Now get off that Elsan and kneel on the floor.”

Jeremy found cold bricks under his knees and felt the ropes holding his elbows cut loose. “You’ve got ten minutes for stretching and massage. Don’t get up.” Jeremy did his best to iron out the kinks and to remain silent. Breathing was still not easy and he didn’t know for how long he’d been blindfolded. Now he was even naked.

After a few minutes Jeremy felt something being pressed to his chest. “Put them on.” A quick manual examination revealed that Will had given him a pair of Speedos. “You may stand.” Jeremy’s fingers were not as nimble as the first time he had tried this but he soon got the garment in place and the draw string tied. This pair was not as cripplingly tight as the previous one but there was still not much of them and they held him firmly in place. Jeremy adjusted himself and stood waiting.

“Lie down.” Jeremy lay on the rough brick floor and found his elbows being tied closely once more and his wrists were tied with the same rope. The rope was then passed back up to the elbow tie and passed under his right armpit, across the back of his neck, back under the other armpit to be fastened off at the elbows again after having been pulled tight. That left very little scope for Jeremy to move his arms. Next for attention were his ankles and then above and below his knees. The same rope appeared to be used for all the ties on his legs.

Phil removed the hood from his prisoner’s head and Jeremy breathed easier again. “Had they finished?” he wondered. But no such luck. Will looped a further rope between his elbows, pulled the bight through and threaded the free ends between his ankles as well. Once he had passed the free ends through the bight, Will pulled so tightly that Jeremy’s hands could touch his heels. With his feet in the required proximity to his hands, Will completed the hog-tie. He then rocked Jeremy from side to side just for fun.

Phil checked Will’s rope work and, when he was satisfied, quite brutally removed the Elastoplast from Jeremy’s mouth. The sponge absorbed most of the resultant scream. It even brought the noises from the other prisoners to a temporary halt. Even though the cellar was fairly dingy, Jeremy’s dark brown eyes took a while to be come accustomed to the light. Then he felt something pulling his arms and legs into the air. Looking round he noticed a pulley arrangement attached to a ring in the ceiling. A hook from it had been looped into the hogtie rope and Will was pulling it upwards. That left Jeremy with his back hollowed and with very little contact with the ground. “So this is what they call a hog-tie” he thought but he hadn’t expected that last little refinement.

“Right, now you be a good boy and the Professor will see you after breakfast.” So saying, Will and Phil left and Jeremy heard the door being locked.
Boxer shorts are cool,
but little speedos rule!

More by the same author: viewtopic.php?f=5&t=22729

Re: A Training Exercise

Postby Jason Toddman » Sun Feb 27, 2011 11:34 am

I don't know if Snobound would be any less strict with his ties but at least he might be more pleasant about it while he's abducting you than these guys have been. :D
Dare to be different... and make a difference.
To boldly go where no one in their right mind has gone before...

Delete

Postby MattyH » Sun Feb 27, 2011 12:08 pm

Delete
Last edited by MattyH on Fri Dec 09, 2011 7:27 pm, edited 1 time in total.

Re: A Training Exercise

Postby sarumansauron » Mon Feb 28, 2011 9:40 am

Good continuation! Thanks!
I love TUGS and TICKLING Torture!!!!!

Re: A Training Exercise

Postby w3sKer96 » Thu Mar 03, 2011 5:19 pm

Jason Toddman wrote:I don't know if Snobound would be any less strict with his ties but at least he might be more pleasant about it while he's abducting you than these guys have been. :D


I just need to decide whether being more pleasant is an advantage haha, but thanks for my concern Toddman.

Re: A Training Exercise

Postby snobound » Sat Mar 05, 2011 12:43 pm

Ahhhh..... yes... XTC and I think alike! As always, excellent bondage. I'm sorry that I took so long to read it.
Try out the TUGs chat! http://chat.mibbit.com/#tugsnet

Re: A Training Exercise

Postby xtc » Sun Mar 06, 2011 10:45 am

A TRAINING EXERCISE


Jeremy took stock of his situation: it was hopeless. He was hogtied in some dungeon in a foreign country with his arms and legs raised and his lightly muscled, lean frame stretched so that he could hardly move at all. His mouth had been dried out by an enormous (to him) sponge and he was wearing just a pair of Speedos. These ones, he noticed, were red and of a high-leg cut. At least they weren’t quite as unforgiving round his delicate parts as the white ones had been.

He looked around as best he could. The cellar was about four metres wide and about ten long with a dirty sky-light at one end which was the only source of light now that the single electric bulb had been extinguished. At the other end from the skylight a set of stone steps led up to a very hefty looking wooden door with enormous hinges and a large black plate lock like you only ever see in films. There was a sort of gulley running down the middle of the cellar that led to a drain.

Each of the side walls had three flat metal bars attached horizontally leaving a small gap between each bar and the wall. One was close to the ground, one at about sixty centimetres high and the other at about one hundred and sixty centimetres. Jeremy didn’t know it but they used to hold two huge wine racks, one against each wall. The rest of the racks were dismantled for the war effort over sixty years previously. The ceiling had several heavy metal rings attached where the old oil lamps used to hang. They were considerably over-engineered but seemed to serve their current functions well, one of which was to prevent Jeremy from becoming too comfortable.

There were also two iron rails running the length of the cellar about three centimetres from the floor. The professor has never explained what function they used to serve but he has found them very useful since his Foundation had bought the Manor. I wonder if “Health and Safety” know about them?

The most noticeable feature of the old wine cellar at the time though was probably the two other prisoners who had been making all the noises. They were both fifteen years old but neither was taller than about one hundred and fifty centimetres, if he had been allowed to stand. One had short-cropped fairish hair and was very well built. He was wearing a pair of red nylon swim briefs that were somewhat too big for him. The other was slighter but with well defined, rather square pecs and darker, curly hair. He had been given the rather short remains of a pair of jeans to wear that didn’t go far towards upholding his dignity.

Both boys were silting on the floor against the same wall and seemed to have been bound identically. Their arms were out of sight behind their backs where they had been handcuffed and each had a chain which had been looped round his neck, down behind the middle bar along the wall and back in front again where a heavy padlock held it in place. Their ankles had been extensively rope cuffed before the cuffs were fastened to the railings running along the floor with more padlocks attached to very short chains. Neither boy was blindfolded but both had their mouths stuffed with unforgiving ball gags. They didn’t silence their wearers but they must have hurt like hell, they were strapped in so tightly. Jeremy couldn’t help wondering who they were and what one had to do to get put in there. He didn’t even know what he’d done.

Time passed and the two other prisoners repeatedly struggled, shouted and tried to take the pressure off their necks where their bums had slipped away from the wall and Jeremy awaited his fate and tried to take in his surroundings. He’d completely lost track of time and, to add insult to injury, was suffering from jet-lag. Even so, in his current situation, there was no way he could get to sleep.

-----00000-----


After what seemed like an age Paul came back into the cellar announcing that the Professor was ready to meet Jeremy. He had someone with him whom he introduced. “You’ll have met this guy’s writing on the TUGs site. He calls himself Tiedup101 but his name’s really John.” John101, apparently, enjoyed being restrained and he and Paul would be taking over from Will, Phil and Ben while they slept off their jet lag. John101 was wearing only a black jockstrap and a leather collar round his neck. He had a similar ball gag in his mouth to the ones being worn by the two mystery prisoners in the cellar but it was no where near as tight. On his wrists he wore leather cuffs which had been padlocked behind him and Paul was leading him by a chain attached to his collar. He was pale and dark-haired. Apparently he liked to be the Professor’s slave. Things were getting weird!

As soon as Paul opened the door the two seated prisoners started kicking off even more and Paul gave each of them a none too gentle kick in the side as he passed. He noticed Jeremy looking.

“Oh, don’t worry about them. They’re not important. The Professor doesn’t even know about them. This one,” he said shoving his boot into his waist and pushing him up against the wall, “beats up little kids and steals what ever they’ve got. We thought that someone ought to do something and we thought that that someone might as well be us.”

“Ngg, nng, ng, ng” agreed John101 nodding vigorously.

“This one,“ said Paul as John101 pushed his bare foot into his crutch, “Steals little kid’s bikes and chucks them in rivers and over other people’s fences. “101 here tried having a word with him but he didn’t seem to take any notice.”

“Nnnn, nnn, nnn” said John101 shaking his head sadly.

Neither of them would confess so we’re borrowing our boss’s facilities. We reckon that they’ll be a bit more co-operative in a couple of day’s time.”

“Ngg, nng, ng, ng” agreed John101 nodding vigorously again.

“OK, 101, sorry but it’s time to get on.”

“Mmmmm.” Whimpered John101 pathetically as Paul unlocked his wrists and removed his lead.

Jeremy now found the situation truly bizarre one of his new gaolers appeared to be a prisoner himself but was working willingly for the Foundation. He just didn’t get it.

The awful mask was laced over Jeremy’s head again while John101 lowered the hook raising his limbs from the floor. His relief was more than considerable.

John101 knelt down and untied the rope confining Jeremy’s legs and massaged them for him for a couple of minutes before Paul padlocked two leather cuffs onto his ankles which were joined by about sixty centimetres of not very heavy chain. Paul then told John101 that he should put his lead back on again, that pleased him as he padlocked it on. He knew what would be required and padlocked the other end of the chain around Jeremy’s neck and turned his back on him.

Surprisingly, Paul then removed the hood. Jeremy grunted. “Boss’s orders,” confirmed Paul, “he seems to want you to see the inside of his facility here.”

John101 led onwards dragging Jeremy closely in his wake as he climbed the steps. Stopping just to give the other two prisoners a slight kick each, Paul followed on and locked the door leaving them in the gloom once more.

-----00000-----


Outside of the cellar the Manor House looked just like a comfortable (VERY comfortable) residence as Jeremy was led along a corridor lined with pictures, pot plants and scattered sofas. At the end of the corridor was a large room that had been set up like a cross between an office and a lounge. Except, possibly, for the stocks, the pillory and the metal saltire cross. At least there was no stake; there was no need all the while the timbered structure of the Manor House incorporated four vertical, square-section wooden posts.

John101 led Jeremy over to the pillory that faced a huge, leather-covered desk behind which sat a character he recognised from stories. The Professor did, indeed, exist. Paul clamped Jeremy’s ankles into a device resembling a metal set of stocks that kept his ankles fixed about fifty centimetres apart and John101 released him from the chain lead. Paul untied his arms and forced his wrists up to the appropriate indentations in the pillory while John101 positioned his neck in the largest cut-out. Jeremy made no attempt to resist and the top of the pillory was clamped into place leaving him unable to raise his head but still able to see the face of the elderly, bearded man seated behind the desk.

“Thank you.” Said the Professor to his henchmen as Paul padlocked his prone companion’s wrists behind him and padlocked his right ankle into the chain leading from his collar. “Yes, it must seem strange to you seeing one of my associates treat another one like that but 101 loves bondage. If he does well, he is rewarded in ways like this like this, if not, he spends his free time close-shackled to the floor. That’s alright by him but he’s also completely ignored for twelve hours. He doesn’t like that.”

Paul dragged his semi-hogtied companion out of the room by his free leg. Jeremy found out later that he was taken to the next room and tickled hard and unrelentingly until the Professor called him and Paul back after a rather one-sided interview with Jeremy.

“You are probably wondering why my associates have brought you here, Jeremy Recker.” The Professor addressed Jeremy by his full name. “You realise that this is a work of charity. My associates were getting out of practice so I thought that they could try to oblige you. I hope you haven’t been disappointed.” Jeremy shook his head and tried to speak. “Oh, I see you still don’t understand.”

Over the next few minutes the Professor explained that nobody from the board had upset him recently and so he hadn’t had to abduct anyone for quite some time. As a consequence, some of his newer associates were out of practice and not as adept as he would have liked them to have been should they be really needed. Therefore he asked his associates if they’d pay Jeremy a visit. He’d seen on the web-site that he was interested in gags and in how a house should be specially adapted for bondage so he thought Jeremy would like to see for himself. So here he was. As the Professor said: an act of charity.

“I hope you enjoyed your first hog-tie. It wasn’t too extreme was it?” Whatever Jeremy tried to say didn’t matter as it was completely unintelligible. “I noticed the manner in which you wished to be dressed but I’m afraid 101 prefers his current attire and wouldn’t oblige you by wearing briefs himself. Please don’t struggle, you will hurt yourself.” By now Jeremy was desperate to ask questions and receive replies and had started jerking around against the immoveable pillory and shuffling in the ankle restraints. That was about the first time he had made a prolonged and determined attempt to speak but it was a vain one.

The Professor simply waited for Jeremy to realise the futility of his efforts and to realise that the increased discomfort just wasn’t worth it. He feigned indifference by perusing some of the papers on his desk. After about ten minutes Jeremy had settled down.

“That is better. You will be given breakfast, even though it’s a little late, and your hosts will answer almost any questions you have. The only things they will not tell you is what will happen to you next and how long you are likely to be here. The latter they do not know and the former is not in their gift to impart to you.”

The Professor pressed a button on his phone and shortly afterwards John101 and Paul walked back into the room. John101, predictably, still had his wrists cuffed behind him and he knelt down whilst awaiting orders.

“Please give Mister Recker his breakfast and then a guided tour, show him anything inside the Manor House but he must not be allowed to see the outside. That will be his payment for providing his abductors with some much needed practice. Take him away and feed him.”

In spite of the jet-lag, adrenaline seemed to be coursing through the young Asian American’s body and he didn’t feel the usual need to retire following a transatlantic journey.

Paul hauled John101 to his feet by the chain attached to his collar and took the padlock from his cuffs. The two “Associates” freed Jeremy from the pillory and John101 tied his wrists behind his back in a high back-hammer position which was held in place by a very hefty strap that Paul buckled tightly round his chest and upper arms trapping his forearms in the process. The hanging end of the chain from John101’s collar was padlocked round Jeremy’s neck as it had been previously and John101 led Jeremy out of the Professor’s presence.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I have finished writing this story now and It just remains to proof-read it several times. The sections that have been posted so far represent about half the story.

Thanks to all who have commented.
Wassail!
Xtc
Boxer shorts are cool,
but little speedos rule!

More by the same author: viewtopic.php?f=5&t=22729

Re: A Training Exercise

Postby curadutch » Sun Mar 06, 2011 7:42 pm

Wow, very nice story. Looking forward to what will happen next :bound:

Re: A Training Exercise

Postby sarumansauron » Mon Mar 07, 2011 10:15 am

Good story! Thanks!
I love TUGS and TICKLING Torture!!!!!

Re: A Training Exercise

Postby xtc » Sun Mar 13, 2011 12:46 pm

A TRAINING EXERCISE



The first room Jeremy was shown was the “waiting room” where Paul had just administered John101’s reward tickling. This is the room where the Professor’s “guests” wait before being taken into his presence. It is completely soundproof as long as the door is closed. The lock, like most of the others in the house, works on thumb-print recognition. It is a large room with comfortable sofas and easy chairs and conveniently positioned coffee tables. If it wasn’t for the four differently sized cages, it would have looked like a comfortable lounge.

The tallest cage was in one corner of the room. It extended from floor to ceiling but its floor was only about seventy centimetres square so there was not much room for manoeuvre in it. The cage in the opposite corner was about a metre cubed and Jeremy was asked to imagine being locked in there with two other “guests”. The remaining cages were much smaller and positioned conveniently by two of the easy chairs that had a coffee table between them. That made it difficult for any occupants to see one another even if they were not blindfolded. The cages were about seventy centimetres high and another seventy wide and not much more than a metre long. Jeremy only hoped he wasn’t going to be scrunched up into one of them.

He needn’t have worried; he was taken straight to the next door room which was the staff dining room. Another comfortable room except for the hefty staples in the floor, one next to each dining chair around a huge table that looked as though it could accommodate two spread-eagled prisoners easily. It could!

Jeremy was made to sit with his feet near one of the staples and Paul padlocked his ankle cuffs to the staple before releasing him from the chain linking him to John101’s neck. Shortly afterwards a smartly dressed waiter arrived with a “Full English” on a tray. The staff ate well. And so did some of the professors “guests”. Paul and John101 had already breakfasted and John101’s task was to feed Jeremy. Paul removed the tape holding the disgusting sponge inside Jeremy’s mouth, not without a considerably noisy protest as the tape was pulled abruptly from his ragged, black hair.

Jeremy found himself being offered mineral water from a fine tumbler which he drank as greedily as John101 would allow. “Eat first. Questions later.” ordered Paul as Jeremy started to speak. “One word, unless it concerns your breakfast, and the gag goes back in.” The Professor’s chef knew what she was doing and Jeremy finished even the (rather alien to him) slices of black and white puddings that went with the sausages, fried egg (much of which, with the tomato ketchup, ended up dripping down his chin and onto his chest) and crisply fried streaky bacon. A glass of freshly squeezed orange juice accompanied the meal and John101 wiped Jeremy’s face and chest free from food remains.

“You heard the Professor. We’ll answer any of your questions except the two you’ve been told about. Fire away!”

Now he had the opportunity to speak, Jeremy didn’t really know where to start.

-----00000-----


Eventually Paul had told him about the Professor’s Foundation and about their purpose being to abduct anyone who put pressure on the Professor in any way at all. The Foundation had a fort in the Solent where most of the genuine unpleasantness was doled out and this Manor House, which was usually used for R&R by the Professor’s staff. Being for the Professor and his associates, however, the establishment was well equipped for bondage purposes. Jeremy also learned that the Professor had nothing against him personally but that, having read his postings, he thought that he would be an ideal target for his newer associates to abduct for practice. He was also told that, if that was not the case, then tough shit! Jeremy thought he understood that last point. Paul told him that they would take the guided tour of the interior of the Manor House after which there would be time for questions.

Jeremy couldn’t help wondering why the questions would have to come afterwards. He soon found out. John101 approached him with a knotted piece of fabric which he inserted into his mouth before he could even try to prevent it. Once more his jaws were forced apart as John101 tied the cloth tightly round the back of his neck. It soon became apparent to Jeremy that he could bite down quite a way on the knot and even, once it had settled into place perhaps, expel the thing form his mouth. The appearance of the strap soon changed his mind. It was a good four centimetres wide and about one centimetre thick. Once Paul had positioned it over the knot and pulled it tight, there was very little scope for the movement of Jeremy’s jaws at all. A sturdy buckle at the back of his neck surrendered hardly any give once it had been fastened. The knot was, by now, pushed well back into Jeremy’s mouth stifling most of the sounds he was making and the strap was keeping his jaws open to an uncomfortable degree.

“You’re the gag fan. Try that one.” remarked Paul.

“Ngg, nng, ng, ng” agreed John101 enthusiastically.

Paul then freed Jeremy’s ankles from the staple while John101 padlocked him to their mutual lead once again.

“Mfff, mnn, mnn.” Pleaded John101, looking over his shoulder to his wrists, which he had crossed behind him.

“Oh, come on mate, you know we’re both supposed to be free to restrain our guest if we need to.”

“Eeeeee!” pleaded the bondage pig. How could Paul resist the look in those eyes?

“Oh alright, but if the Old Man catches us, or if he (pointing at Jeremy) gets away, you get close shackled in solitary for a whole day with that Justin Bieber track that you dislike so much on constant replay - and that’s AFTER he’s finished with us. Understand?”

Silly question. The enthusiastic nodding and subsequent generous distribution of drool gave Paul his answer. He padlocked his colleague’s wrist cuffs behind him.

“Aaa oo”, said John101.

Once Jeremy had climbed to his feet, the tour continued.

-----00000-----


The next room along the corridor was a games room. It contained several video games consoles, some card tables and chess tables, a dart board and a whistling pig; the Professor was fond of traditional pub games. It also featured a full-size billiards table which was currently occupied by a spread-eagled guy clad only in a loin cloth of some sort and who was being tormented by two other young men who were flicking the bulldog clips that had been attached to his nipples in concert. In spite of the muffled protests that were issuing forth from behind his gag, he didn’t seem to be in too much distress.

“Oh, he just lost a bet.” said Paul as if in explanation.

The next room was a library with the usual staples attached to the floor. It was obvious to Jeremy what they were for when he noticed what was obviously one of the Professor’s associates seated comfortably reading with a scantily clad young man, bound hand and foot, kneeling in front of his comfortable chair acting as a foot-stool.

“Hi, Paul.” said the footstool.

“He lost a bet too.” Jeremy soon understood that the professor’s associates were all seriously into two things: bondage and betting!

The last room on the corridor looked like a normal reception room. That’s exactly what it was.

On the other side of the corridor was a modern kitchen, which Jeremy was not shown, and another comfortable reception room. The Professor treated his associates well. As long as they delivered. The main entrance was on that side of the house. Paul didn’t think he’d show Jeremy the secret passage that led from the first floor down to a wooden panel with a concealed latch just opposite the entrance to the cellar. He himself didn’t even know about the one that led from the Professor’s “study” to the dove cote in the grounds.

The tour continued. Paul explained that Jeremy had seen just about all there was to see in the cellar and on the ground floor and that the next stage was to visit the first floor. A wide, wooden panelled staircase led up to it. Paul explained that, other than the professor’s suite, the floor accommodated staff and visitors. He differentiated between visitors and guests.

At the end of the corridor, the Professor’s suite consisted of a bedroom, a luxury bathroom and a study. As you might expect, the study did feature just a few anchor points but that was not where the Professor usually chose to conduct business. A quick look around and the trio departed..

Both sides of the corridor were lined with heavy, old-fashioned doors. Paul opened the first door to show Jeremy a typical individual room. The bed was built-in and I suppose you could call it a four-poster. It would be more accurate to say that it was a double bed with four very substantial wooden pillars, one at each corner. Each post had attachment points spaced about thirty centimetres apart on the inside and a similar set on the posts at the foot of the bed facing outwards. The bed-head was a substantial wooden lattice rising about sixty centimetres above the mattress. The foot was similar but not as high.

“I know I said this was an individual room,” explained Paul, “but you never know when you might be entertaining. So all facilities are supplied.” Saying which, he opened a chest below the window to reveal a variety of restraints and “toys”. “The wardrobe is also built in, as is the hanging rail. You know, I can’t stand those stories where someone is left “hanging in the closet” and unable to escape. They must be fairly hefty closets, fairly strong fittings and bloody thick rails. These ones are!”

Other than an en-suite shower room, that’s all there was to show other than the cramped individual-sized cage on the opposite side of the room from the bed. There were toilets every so often along the corridor as it had proved impossible to adapt the grade two listed building sufficiently to include them in the en-suite facilities.

“Some of the rooms are double rooms.” said Paul. “I’ll show you this one and, if you make any noise at all, you’ll be joining those two non-persons in the cellar. Understand?”

Jeremy nodded.

The room he was shown into looked similar to the previous one except that the bed was a king-sized one and the room appeared to be occupied.

Jeremy didn’t recognise Ben but that was hardly surprising. He was spread eagled, but not too tightly, on the far side of the enormous bed, wearing just white cotton shorts; and enough of his head was covered to give the appearance of his being masked. His eyes had been bandaged and the bandages had been wrapped around with Elastoplast. He had not been gagged and he was still sound asleep.

“This is my room and Ben’s. He still needs to sleep.” With those whispered words Jeremy was led out of the room.

By now the strap in his mouth was causing Jeremy considerable discomfort and he seriously considered appealing to his gaolers. A few seconds’ deliberation, however, helped him to realise the futility of the situation. He couldn’t even struggle productively all the while he had his arms strapped tightly to his torso and was chained to John101.

So the tour continued.

“There are two wide staircases from the ground floor to the first and two more narrow ones up to the attics. We’ll show you one of them.” Jeremy wondered why Paul then undid his neck chain. Paul immediately grabbed his left arm and led him towards the door to the stair. Rounding the corner to the stair he could see why he and John101 had been separated. The door was open and the stair was very steep but also very narrow. “Climb.”

Jeremy did so but that was quite a feat for someone with his arms back-hammered so that he couldn’t use them for balance at all. All the while there were walls on each side, Jeremy felt reasonably secure but, once his shoulders had breached the floor level of the attic, it was almost like climbing a ladder no handed. Eventually he made it, cleared the top of the staircase and found himself standing in a roof space crossed at regular intervals by wooden beams.

“This is rather like the cellar.” explained Paul, who had followed him closely, as John101 struggled up into the attic. “Dick-head.” opined Paul affectionately, grinning as his cuffed colleague eventually managed it. “You might notice how the roof trusses are almost made for restraining the unwilling.” continued Paul. Indeed Jeremy could hardly do otherwise when he saw the state of the other youth there.

The roof trusses right along the building consisted of vertical king-posts and horizontal beams at a height of somewhat over a metre from the attic floor. These provided perfect instruments of restraint. As if to demonstrate the situation, Jeremy saw a slim but athletically built youngster with his arms stretched along one of them, each arm tied in at least half a dozen places crucifying him. His knees barely reached the floor and his ankles had been pulled behind the king post and tied together forcing his knees apart. As soon as he heard the approaching party, he tried to turn his head towards the noise but the hood, which was the only thing he was wearing, not only prevented his seeing the three visitors but, judging by the feeble sounds issuing from behind it, also held a very effective gag in place.

“This is a guest of the Professor’s. He wasn’t very cooperative when he was interviewed earlier on. He’s being given a few hours to reconsider his position.” Paul explained to the accompaniment of enthusiastic nods and “Nnnn” noises from John101 who went across to him and pushed his knee into the youth’s crutch just to cause him alarm. “101 doesn’t like to see the Professor messed around.” explained Paul.

“Nnn nnn,” confirmed John101 with a shake of his head.

Jeremy noticed that some of the beams had strong leather straps attached to them and that others had metal fittings. This attic alone could have kept at least a dozen prisoners accommodated as long as they doubled up on cross beams.

“Just one more thing to see now.” said Paul indicating that Jeremy should follow John101 back down the stairs. Once down on the first floor again Jeremy was chained to John101 by the neck once more and taken through the last door off the corridor. The bedroom was smaller than the others they’d been in and contained only a single bed along with the usual trunk under the window and an even smaller cage than those in the other two rooms. Paul opened the trunk and told Jeremy to listen. He could hear what sounded like muffled voices and someone fidgeting around underneath it.

“This is a priest hole” explained Paul. “It’s where the catholic priests used to hide during the Protestant Monarchies. The Professor often uses it when his guests need time to think.” So saying, Paul lifted the false base from the trunk revealing a trap door disguised as floor-boarding. He unlocked it and Jeremy looked down into a shaft no more than about eighty centimetres square. Trying to look up at him were two pairs of frightened eyes.

“These two are trespassers. The Professor wants us to explain the error of their ways to them and discourage them from either re-visiting us or telling anyone about the Manor House. We thought we’d wait a while before reasoning with them. We usually find that our logic is more easily appreciated that way. As far as Jeremy could see, the teenagers had been stripped to the waist and had their hands cuffed behind their backs. They had then been tied together face to face with cable ties looped between their arms and three straps drew their torsos close together. One went around their necks forcing them to stand with their chins on each other’s shoulders, another was pulled tightly round their waists and the third passed under their armpits pulling their chests into intimate and inseparable contact. The top strap was held up by an elaborate rope job threaded through the strap fore and aft and passing over the boys’ shoulders.

They were obviously pleading for release but each of them had one of the usual ball gags fitted which was being used to hold a folded piece of fabric in the wearer’s mouth. Jeremy could see the fabric trapped between the balls and the prisoners’ lips. These were two very unhappy boys.

“The professor doesn’t like us pissing on guests in the priest hole because it doesn’t drain too well but what the eye doesn’t see, the nose won’t notice. See you later, boys.” And Paul replaced the trap-door and false bottom to the trunk and said, “That’ll give them something to think about for a few hours. Can we take our guest to your room?” John101 nodded and they headed off along the corridor again.
Boxer shorts are cool,
but little speedos rule!

More by the same author: viewtopic.php?f=5&t=22729

Re: A Training Exercise

Postby sarumansauron » Mon Mar 14, 2011 11:06 am

Good continuation! Thanks!
I love TUGS and TICKLING Torture!!!!!

Re: A Training Exercise

Postby w3sKer96 » Tue Mar 15, 2011 5:04 pm

I love my dilemma! lol

Re: A Training Exercise

Postby Jason Toddman » Tue Mar 15, 2011 9:07 pm

Sounds a bit ike that TUGs manor Snobound wrote about inTugs Talk a few months back. :D Too bad the professsor apprently isn't in a mood to share except on his own terms.
Dare to be different... and make a difference.
To boldly go where no one in their right mind has gone before...

Re: A Training Exercise

Postby xtc » Wed Mar 16, 2011 1:12 am

To Jason Toddman,

Contrary to your recent assertion, my client wishes to point out that the incident described in Xtc's recent account was an act of charity towards an unfortunate young man who was in urgent need of being gagged and who was desperate to seee how a house should be adapted for bondage purposes. The Foundation, in its charitable role, has adapted Whin Hill Manor for that use, at no cost by anyone whom the Professor, in his role a s President of the Foundation, deems to be in need. The Professor wishes it to be pointed out that he is a renowned public benefactor and that any assertion to the contrary or that he is a selfish, self regarding egomaniac shall be regarded as libel and action will bne taken accordingly.

Yours sincerey,
U. Creap
(Solicitor and Commissioner for Oaths)
Boxer shorts are cool,
but little speedos rule!

More by the same author: viewtopic.php?f=5&t=22729

Re: A Training Exercise

Postby Jason Toddman » Wed Mar 16, 2011 6:37 am

So much for my indirectly angling for free room and board (and transportation). I guess the professor saw right through me! :oops: :big:
Dare to be different... and make a difference.
To boldly go where no one in their right mind has gone before...

Re: A Training Exercise

Postby w3sKer96 » Thu Mar 17, 2011 11:33 pm

Ah Jason haha.

Re: A Training Exercise

Postby xtc » Sun Mar 20, 2011 8:57 am

A TRAINING EXERCISE



Upon entering John101’s room, Jeremy noticed the usual double bed, trunk and cage but John101had added a few homely touches of his own. The most noticeable ones were the heavy iron staples he’d had fixed to a structural horizontal beam that ran at about shoulder height the length of the room and the chain hoist hanging from the strong iron loop that once held a chandelier. As usual, the leaded windows had been rendered sound-proof by the secondary double glazing that was allowed by building regulations on such protected buildings. The glass was reinforced and the windows didn’t open. The ventilation was provided by the slight gaps under the door, the peep-hole that John101 always kept open and the huge fireplace.

“101’s a lucky bastard, he got this big room with one of the original fireplaces in it. The fire works but the chimney has been grilled. Can Recker use your cage, mate?”

John 101 nodded enthusiastically. Jeremy’s enthusiasm was rather less unbounded. The front of the cage was hinged so that it could be lifted and left lying on top of the cage itself. Paul released Jeremy from his lead and indicated that he was to crawl into the cramped accommodation. “Not like that. Backwards. Unless you want to be facing the wall.”

Jeremy knelt with his back to the cage, crouched low and gradually worked his way into it. Neither of his “hosts” made any attempt to help. At least the usual occupant had fitted a sort of gym-mat that had been attached to the corners of the cage so that Jeremy’s knees and feet weren’t forced to come directly into contact with the narrow iron bars that formed the cage. Even though the mat was thicker than a normal gym mat, it provided only minimal relief. The door was swung down into place, pushing the occupant’s head even further back, and secured with a hefty iron bar which was padlocked at each end. Jeremy hoped he would not be in there for long.

Paul unlocked his associate’s ball gag and freed his wrist cuffs. John101 immediately went to his water cooler and got a drink. While he was exercising his jaw and flexing his arm muscles, Paul reached through the bars and unbuckled the strap that had been forcing Jeremy’s jaws wide during his conducted tour and cut the fabric gag off his head. The first words Jeremy said didn’t sound much like “Thank you”. Paul understood. John 101 put some water in a flexible bottle with a tube attached and positioned it within range for Jeremy to take a drink when he was ready. He and Paul waited patiently

Having taken a drink and manoeuvred his jaw for a minute or so, Jeremy plucked up courage to ask for the strap connecting his arms to his torso to be removed. “Sorry, guy, too much trouble.” Jeremy realised then that 110 was an American with a strong southern accent. That was somewhat of a surprise but he should have known that, in his other guise as Tiedup101, his host claimed to be from South Carolina. “All the while you’re all doubled up like that, I can’t reach the buckle. If I pull the belt so that the buckle comes round behind you, it’s going to take several tries and you’re going to get the most horrible burns. Even I wouldn’t want that done to me.”

Being secured so strictly, Jeremy could appreciate that.

“Well, what d’yall wann’a ask” said John101 laying on the “Southern Gen’leman” accent rather too heavily. “Before you ask about what will happen to you or how long you’ll be here, remember that we can’t tell you and we’ll probably have to punish you for asking.” Jeremy wondered what being punished would be like compared to how he was being treated at the minute; but he kept it to himself.

Over the next hour or so his hosts answered all his questions except, of course the embargoed ones which were the ones Jeremy really wanted answering. He found out all about Whin Hill Manor and the fort in the Solent. He knew all about the Professors’ associates, how hard they had to work at times and the rewards that they enjoyed in return for their unquestioning loyalty. He was at least told that he couldn’t be taken home for at least a day as both the Professor’s best pilot and Ben, his most reliable driver, needed recovery time. He was also promised that he wouldn’t be kept strapped up and in the cage for much longer. “Just as well,” confirmed John101, “or I won’t have anywhere to sleep tonight.” Jeremy was not sure whether or not he was joking.

“Let’s just go take a piss on the trespassers.” suggested John101 and both Paul and he left the room.

Jeremy figured out that he could just about lie down on his side in the cage but didn’t see the advantage in doing so; it probably wouldn’t be any less uncomfortable and still wouldn’t allow him to straighten out. He realised that he would get severe cramps if he were to be left there for too long. Although Jeremy didn’t have the historical background, he began to see why someone had fastened a carefully made label in “Olde Englishe” writing just above the cage announcing “Little Ease”.

After some time Paul and John101, who inevitably had his hands padlocked behind him again, returned engaging in a very animated, friendly conversation. Then they spent some time deciding how they were going to “reason” with the trespassers. Jeremy kept very quiet. He was glad he wasn’t a trespasser. He also gave quite some thought to the other two prisoners in the cellar. If the trespassers were “official” guests of the Professor, what horrors might lie in store for the ones he didn’t even know about?

-----00000-----


Eventually Paul and Jon101 decided it was time to get their guest fed and “put away for the night”. By now fatigue and jet-lag had finally taken their toll and Jeremy had even managed to go to sleep hunched in the tiny cage. When Paul hauled him out of it, he hardly registered what was being done to him and John101 suggested not bothering about feeding him and just securing him for the night. Paul agreed and they both decided that he should be tied, stretched out to one side of John101’s bed.

Dozy as he was, the relief Jeremy felt when the strap was removed, woke him up a bit. “Let’s not bother to change him; I’ll just pull some rubber compression shorts onto him in case of accident.” Jeremy was sat on the side of the bed and John101 did exactly that and rolled him to face belly down. Paul released his wrists from the back-hammer and both the hosts massaged his wrists and manipulated his muscles expertly for about ten minutes. In spite of the attention, adrenaline can only last for so long and Jeremy’s torpor increased. He was rolled onto his back once more and John101 tied his wrists firmly, but not too cruelly in front of him. Once Jeremy had been hauled further onto the bed, his hands were tied to the lattice of the bed-head and his feet similarly to the foot of the bed. He wasn’t pulled too tight but Paul made sure to return the ends of the rope tying his wrists back to his wrists before finally securing it.

Even though Jeremy was already soundly asleep, there then followed some discussion about the necessity for gagging their guest especially in the light of his expressed preferences but John101 said that, although he didn’t mind sharing his bed with Jeremy all the while he was asleep, he didn’t see why he should have to stay awake to keep an eye on him in case of emergency. Paul agreed and they settled for blindfolding him with several rounds of duct tape. Paul and John101 then went about their business for the rest of the day.

-----00000-----


When Jeremy awoke, he was initially surprised that he couldn’t move and then just as surprised that he couldn’t see. Then he remembered his situation. Then he remembered his bladder! He started struggling against his ropes.

He soon heard a familiar, but very sleepy and grumpy, accent. “For God’s sake, stop struggling or I’ll whup your ass.” Jeremy calmed down. “I’ll take you to the bathroom and give you a change of clothes. Just cross your legs for a few minutes more.” Jeremy felt his ankles and wrists being released form the bed and felt himself being dragged across the bed. His host sat him up, bent forwards and jammed his shoulder into his belly. When John101 stood up again, he had Jeremy draped over his shoulder. That wasn’t a bad feat considering Jeremy’s six foot plus height.

John101 soon carried Jeremy to the nearest toilet, sat him on the pan and cut the ropes binding his wrists. With threats about the inadvisability of trying to escape Jeremy was left to sort himself out. Removing the tape from his eyes and hair was not easy. He couldn’t remove it all at once and had to feel around for the end of the tape. Once he had found it and managed, as best he could tell, to loosen it, he made a determined effort to unwind it as quickly as possible. Anyone who has ever tried this will know that it is not as quick an activity as they might initially have thought. Jeremy’s mother would not have approved of his language.

Once he had managed to free himself from the tape, he didn’t bother to untie his ankles but desperately tried to stand and drop the rubber shorts and the Speedos that were coming between him and relief. He decided that he didn’t like the rubber shorts a lot. Seated and achieving the main aim of the excursion, Jeremy looked around him. There weren’t many toilets that didn’t seem to have a lock on the inside. There was no window and, other than the door by which he came in, no means of escape. What should he do? Should he wait? Should he call out? Jeremy decided to wait. He thought he would be well advised to pull up his Speedos and force the over-tight rubber shorts back into place and not to untie his ankles.

Eventually John101 returned wearing what Jeremy assumed was his night-attire of lose-fitting black boxer shorts and carrying ropes and a change of Speedos which he threw to Jeremy.

“OK, untie your ankles and remove those smelly clothes. You might think that now’s your chance to try to overpower me but this device I’m holding is like an epi-pen. One stab administers drugs very quickly to any part of a person’s body. It contains a very strong anaesthetic but it’s not particularly safe. You have to decide whether to take the chance.” Jeremy decided that perhaps he wouldn’t and started untying his ankles. Having done so, he readily forced the shorts down his legs but was unsure about stripping completely in front of his gaoler.

“If you’re shy, just turn your back.” suggested John101. Jeremy blushed, turned around, put the clean swimming costume where he could get hold of it and stripped the other one from his body. He took up the black briefs that he had been given, pulled them up, made himself comfortable in them and tied the draw-string. His slim body modelled the full briefs rather well, thought John101. “Don’t turn around. Put your arms behind you.”

As an associate of the Professor’s, John101 was an expert and soon had Jeremy’s elbows tied very closely together rapidly followed by having his wrists tied palm to palm.

“Turn around.” Jeremy did so and soon found several rounds of duct tape covering his eyes. “Only a light gag this morning. Sorry! But it’s about time you ate something.” explained John101 as he jammed a short stick into Jeremy’s mouth and tied it firmly into place with a leather thong. For once Jeremy found himself being taken by the arm instead of having his neck chained to that of John101. He was taken down to the ground floor and into the dining room again, not that he knew where he was being taken. Once there, he was made to kneel and felt his ankles being chained to what he guessed correctly was one of the staples in the floor.

-----00000-----


Jeremy had slept through ‘til the next breakfast time and he could hear various of the Professor’s associates gathering for their morning meal. Jeremy’s needs were ignored while John101, who had been joined by Ben and Paul, helped themselves to their usual hearty breakfast. Voices that Jeremy recognised as belonging to Will and Phil joined the table and discussed Jeremy’s prospects as if he wasn’t present. He wasn’t sure he liked what he was hearing but at lest it prevented his being punished for asking!

Once John101 had competed his breakfast, he removed Jeremy’s gag and fed him cereals, fruit juice and an entire fry-up by hand. Following a glass of water, Jeremy found his gag being tied in place again and his feet being freed from the staple. The familiar feel of having a chain round his neck preceded his being taken up to the first floor, into what turned out to be John101’s room again. Jeremy’s arms were freed and the chain removed from round his neck but his wrists were immediately handcuffed in front of him. The simple wooden gag allowed quite a bit of sound to escape as Jeremy issued involuntary noises in reaction to having his person manoeuvred into yet another uncomfortable position.

The chain of the handcuffs was hooked into the chain hoist and John101 adjusted the hoist until Jeremy could only just about stand on the balls of his feet. “Don’t worry, I won’t keep you long.” said John101 in a not very reassuring manner as he went about his work. Jeremy felt his captor’s hands holding something against different parts of his body in turn. After a few seconds he realised he was being measured up. But why?

Panic set in. “Ohhah uuur uuu?” Jeremy asked.

“Shut your mouth, boy.” advised John101 grabbing Jeremy by the jaw, forcing a finger between the thongs holding the stick into his mouth and twisting. Once he had swept Jeremy’s feet of the floor as well, Jeremy stopped trying to talk following a final distressed scream. He was allowed to find his balance again.

“Good boy, now trust me. I told you that you wouldn’t be kept like this for long but, if you make my life difficult, I’ll haul your feet right off the floor. Do you want that?”

“Ngaah, nghaa!” accompanied a frantic shaking of the head. John101 let the gag go looser again and released Jeremy’s jaw.

John101 finished his measuring up job and lowered Jeremy slightly until his heels were on the floor even though his arms were still stretched tight above him. Jeremy felt something rigid fitted round his ankles which kept his feet separated by a good thirty centimetres. John101 left the room and locked the door. Jeremy wondered exactly what he had meant by “I won’t keep you long.”

After an interminable-seeming thirty minutes, Jeremy heard the door unlocked again. Judging by the voices, several people entered the room. “OK, boy, it’s all good. I can take you down now.” Saying which, John101 released Jeremy’s wrists from the hoist. With his ankles clamped, he had difficultly retaining his footing but he felt someone holding him up.

“Mmm-mm” confirmed Jeremy after a few seconds, nodding his head to indicate that he was OK.

“You have the choice now: either you can go back into the cage or I can hang you up by your heels. Which will it be? Cage?”

Jeremy nodded. “Eff eff.”

“Good decision. My colleagues here are going to get you ready for your journey first. They can do it before helping you into the cage or once you’re hanging upside down. I recommend co-operation. They’ve got something they want to try.” With that John101 left the room saying, “Don’t mess up my room too much, lads.”

Jeremy was made to sit on the floor with his knees drawn up and the chain of his handcuffs was padlocked to a large eye in the metal bar holding his feet apart. His unseen captors then hooked the hoist onto the eye and lifted the bar until only a small section of Jeremy’s back was in contact with the floor.

“OK, that should do.” said a voice that Jeremy recognised as belonging to Phil, his fellow half-Pilipino.

“Yep, he can stay face up like that quite easily.” agreed the person whom Jeremy recognised from his voice as Will.

“OK, Recker, whether you co-operate or not is irrelevant to me but my mate here is rather hoping that you don’t.” warned Phil. “We’re going to gag you in a way you’ve never thought of. If you hold still, it will be quite safe, if not, you’d better be good at holding your breath.”

Will sat on the floor with his knees raised and his legs against Jeremy’s shoulders. He pulled Jeremy’s head back by his uneven, straight black hair and supported it on his knees, stretching his neck and pointing his face straight up.

“Open wide.” commanded Phil somewhat redundantly as he pushed something into the newly terrified American’s mouth. “This thing is in fact made from two water-bomb balloons inside each other. They’ve both been blown up previously and let down again to make life easier for me this time around. It’s unlikely that they’ll both break but it won’t matter much if they do, I can always stop and start again.” Phil then clamped a large rubber washer round the necks of the balloons, pushed it up against Jeremy’s lips and inserted a flexible plastic tube up each of his nostrils. “If you keep still, the tubes won’t come out; If you don’t, remember what I said abut being good at holding your breath.” Phil then applied glue between the washer and the neck of the outer balloon. “I’m going to fill them with a non-toxic chemical but don’t worry it won’t stretch your jaw too far.” Phil inserted an applicator into the neck of the inner balloon, pushed it tight against the washer and pushed the plunger. Jeremy felt the balloons filling inside his mouth. His tongue was trapped and his jaws forced open but certainly not beyond straining point.

“Now, hold still if you know what’s good for you.” instructed Phil as he removed the applicator and pinched the balloons closed. A new applicator was fitted and Phil pushed the plunger. Jeremy’s mouth filled a bit more and its contents suddenly solidified. Phil had used a substance that formed into a rigid foam inside Jeremy’s mouth and flowed out across his chin and lips. It looked rather like the head on a pint of beer. Will kept Jeremy’s head as steady as possible, only hoping that the foam would stop before it reached his legs.

The foam had set to Phil’s satisfaction within about thirty seconds and left a firm panel over Jeremy’s open mouth. Will released Jeremy’s head and pulled the tubes from his nostrils leaving clear passages through the foam to facilitate his breathing. Phil got a new roll of gorilla tape and clamped the panel firmly to Jeremy’s face with it. He could breathe easily but very little noise at all could escape from his mouth. As he flexed his lips to the limited extent available to him, Jeremy was grateful that, even at twenty years of age, his facial hair was still quite sparse.

“Don’t worry too much, it cuts out easily but it’s going to hurt a bit where your facial hair’s become trapped in it.” assured Phil, happy with his masterpiece. Phil had a science degree and was a brilliant at engineer. He had carefully worked out quantities so that Jeremy would neither choke nor suffocate. His high-tech gag conformed perfectly to the inside of its victim’s mouth and his face.

Will lowered the hoist and unhooked Jeremy from it and then released his ankles from the metal clamp. Between them Will and Phil manoeuvred Jeremy into the cage and lowered the door prior to locking it. Will reached through the bars and pulled Jeremy’s wrists and the attached bar outside the cage. Phil detached the handcuff from his right wrist and re-positioned the wrist so that it poked out through a different gap in the bars. Once the cuff had been re-fastened, Jeremy was incapable of withdrawing his wrists back inside the cage.

Phil settled down on the floor in front of the increasingly uncomfortable Texan. “The Professor has told me that I can confirm what is to happen to you. There will be a slight delay, the reason for which you will soon see. Following that delay you will be returned to your own country. Unfortunately, due to the unorthodox way you arrived, and the fact that you don’t have your passport, we need to smuggle you back in a similar way. You can be anaesthetised or not; your decision. Any sign of non-co-operation and you’ll be completely out of it until someone finds you dumped somewhere in you home state. Is that what you want?”

Jeremy shook his head which was, at the time jammed up against the cage door.

“Good, that’s the safe way. It’s not healthy to be out cold for that long but, if that becomes necessary at any time, that’s what we’ll do. Understand?”

Jeremy scraped the top of his head up and down against the cage door. There was no point in even trying to say, “Yes”.

Time passed and Jeremy was hardly capable of any movement to relieve his aching limbs but he was also incapable of pleading for even temporary release. Phil and Will just played cards and engaged in desultory, and far from decent, conversation while they waited.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------


Why was Jeremy being measured up?
What new horors awai?
Don't miss the final exciting episode next week.
Boxer shorts are cool,
but little speedos rule!

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Re: A Training Exercise

Postby Jason Toddman » Sun Mar 20, 2011 1:56 pm

Interesting invention, that foam. I won der if such a thing will ever actually be possible. :big:
Not that I'd want to try it; I LIKE talking! :worried:
Dare to be different... and make a difference.
To boldly go where no one in their right mind has gone before...

Re: A Training Exercise

Postby xtc » Sun Mar 20, 2011 2:05 pm

It is a real substance that I saw used as part of a party trick over twenty years ago. Two small amounts of substances combine to make a foam looking like a solid version of the head on a pint of beer. It sets hard but can be cut with a sharp knife. I have no idea what the substance is. It is probably used for insulation, I guess.
Boxer shorts are cool,
but little speedos rule!

More by the same author: viewtopic.php?f=5&t=22729

Re: A Training Exercise

Postby Jason Toddman » Sun Mar 20, 2011 3:48 pm

But would it actually ever be possible to put it to the use you have established for it here? The world may never know unless an actual ruthless professor cares to investigate. :big:
Dare to be different... and make a difference.
To boldly go where no one in their right mind has gone before...

Re: A Training Exercise

Postby xtc » Mon Mar 21, 2011 2:30 am

The Professor has associates to investigate these things for him. I wonder how Phil's Master's degree is coming on?

Seriously, I don't know how insistent the medium would be on inflating the baloons. I don't know what pressue the setting foam exerts on its container.
Boxer shorts are cool,
but little speedos rule!

More by the same author: viewtopic.php?f=5&t=22729

Re: A Training Exercise

Postby Jason Toddman » Mon Mar 21, 2011 5:47 am

Well, there's nothing wrong with a little fantasy/invention in these type of stories anyway. :D Just look at the (AFAIK fictional) all-purpose shock collar in my current story.
Dare to be different... and make a difference.
To boldly go where no one in their right mind has gone before...

Re: A Training Exercise

Postby xtc » Mon Mar 21, 2011 7:12 am

Aaaaw! (to use an American word), you mean it doesn't really exist???
Boxer shorts are cool,
but little speedos rule!

More by the same author: viewtopic.php?f=5&t=22729