## Dave Gets a Little Talking To

Post by xtc » Sun Oct 07, 2012 3:30 pm

Coming soon:
DAVE GETS A LITTLE TALKING TO.
There’s one more story to come involving the Pirates of Longholme. I think that will be the last one from the record breaking hot summer of 1976.
I should be ready to post the first part sometime next week. Here are the links to the previous stories for anyone who wants to check-out the characters:
Longholme Island: viewtopic.php?f=37&t=11374
Return to Longholme Island: viewtopic.php?f=37&t=12702&p=93425&hilit=Longholme#p93425
Boxer shorts are cool,
but little speedos rule!
More by the same author: viewtopic.php?f=5&t=22729

### Re: Dave Gets a Little Talking To

Post by Sacrificiallove » Sun Oct 07, 2012 6:16 pm

Heyyy.....I was reading a little bit about your first story. I don't have the time (or the patience) to finish it right now (it's getting late and I've been on the internet longer than I intended to be), but I did read the first part. I like that you included a skinny guy in this. I like skinny guys.
As far as trying to make stories fun.....yeah, I see what you're say, because yes, this story is supposed to be fun experiences and stuff. I think it's hard for me to write about that myself, though, cause: a) I'm incapable of writing anything fun (I'm not really a fun peson in all honesty) and b) this is going to sound weird coming from someone who's a part of a kinky bondage fetish website, but I'm actually quite afraid of bondage. At least, when it comes to myself, so writing about a game aspect of it, for me, is like writing about cutting cutting being fun (which it is completely and utterly not, for, like, anyone). There is a part of me that's turned on by the whole thing, but that part of me confuses me and I try to shut that part out. The only reason I even joined this sight is because I wanted a way to at least somehow address this weird relationship I have with bondage (because I never plan on tying up/being tied up by someone else. But usually it turns in to something pretty dark, because when it comes down to it, everything I write is dark. In fact, I was going to write this really dark story about a teenage guy getting raped, but that was taken down (as well it should have been I guess), so I posted it on tumblr instead.
Anyway, I really did not mean to rant that much. I'm sorry. I like that this takes place in the seventies. Ah yes, I remember the seventies........oh wait, no I don't, cause I wasn't even alive yet, haha. I always make that joke. Anyway, so these young guys are really running around wearing speedos (that is what they're wearing, right)? I'm going to finish the rest of this later, when I feel like my internet addiction hasn't been taking over my life. The whole weekend, it has been, so......yeah, I need to get off.

### Re: Dave Gets a Little Talking To

Post by TUfriend » Sun Oct 07, 2012 7:10 pm

Ooooooooo, I'm excited. Made my week!
Heil Toddman, the Wonderful Wizard of Odd
I'm a nerd with a dangerous side.
See my most recent TRUE story, "SPL Initiation", here.
Read my most recent FICTIONAL story, "The Birth of a Whovian", here

### Re: Dave Gets a Little Talking To

Post by xtc » Mon Oct 08, 2012 2:05 am

> Sacrificiallove wrote:Anyway, so these young guys are really running around wearing speedos (that is what they're wearing, right)?

That summer was unbelievably hot and dry. There are several bizarre but true stories concerning certain groups of youngsters on camp that year. One reason for setting the story then (other than the fact that it was a more innocent era and totally free from the tyrany of the, yet to be invented, mobile phone) was their common form of attire. One of three brothers seemed to spend the entire week in a gold sqaure leg swimming costume with clip-on braces! Oh, and a bush hat.
Boxer shorts are cool,
but little speedos rule!
More by the same author: viewtopic.php?f=5&t=22729

### Re: Dave Gets a Little Talking To

Post by Sacrificiallove » Mon Oct 08, 2012 5:27 pm

> xtc wrote:

> > Sacrificiallove wrote:Anyway, so these young guys are really running around wearing speedos (that is what they're wearing, right)?

> That summer was unbelievably hot and dry. There are several bizarre but true stories concerning certain groups of youngsters on camp that year. One reason for setting the story then (other than the fact that it was a more innocent era and totally free from the tyrany of the, yet to be invented, mobile phone) was their common form of attire. One of three brothers seemed to spend the entire week in a gold sqaure leg swimming costume with clip-on braces! Oh, and a bush hat.

You totally lost me with your last two sentences. And lol about cell phones.

### Re: Dave Gets a Little Talking To

Post by xtc » Tue Oct 09, 2012 2:12 am

Braces (sometimes pronounced, "bracers") - I think you call them "suspenders" (that has totally different implications in English!). The skinhead boys all used to wear red braces attached to their trousers but not always over thier shoulders.
Bush hat - a fabric hat like a squat flower pot with a round brim.
Hope that helps.
Boxer shorts are cool,
but little speedos rule!
More by the same author: viewtopic.php?f=5&t=22729

### Re: Dave Gets a Little Talking To

Post by Sacrificiallove » Tue Oct 09, 2012 8:46 am

Lolllllllll! Now I get it. That stuff is like ancient now. People only wear suspenders when they want to make fun of geeky kids now. But not even the geeks actually wear them.

### Re: Dave Gets a Little Talking To

Post by xtc » Fri Oct 26, 2012 4:06 pm

OK , here we go. Third time lucky!
==================================================================================================================================================
DAVE GETS A LITTLE TALKING TO
It was apparent that Dave was unlikely to be consulted about anything anytime soon. He knew Koff would be gunning for him but he didn’t think that even his big brother would betray him like that. Now all he could do was sit on his own landing and await his execution.
-----00000-----
That Sunday the Pirates returned from Longholme following their customary weekend of tying one another up, swimming, sailing and lazing in the sun and all headed for the much needed showers on the mainland campsite run by the Lennoxes and the McGregors. Dave’s father only had to go in once to suggest that the boys keep it down so that they didn’t annoy the paying visitors too much and everyone except Koff had left the shower and started towelling off. You know what they say about the quick and the dead? Before Koff could leave the shower, Dave had made off with his clothes and his towel.
All the others had gone and Koff had to make his way somehow to the Lennox household, which was about fifty metres away, just the other side of the boundary hedge, to get dressed again. It’s a good job that there weren’t too many people around as he clasped his hands tightly over his privates and made a run for it. Koff made new fans among one or two girl campers as he streaked past but, by the time he’d got to Dave’s place, Dave had departed for some reason leaving Koff’s clothes on the kitchen table. Koff swore an awful vengeance upon the dark-haired nuisance as he dressed whilst not being able to suppress a sneaky respect for the way he’d been tricked. His time would come.
-----00000-----
It was probably appropriate that Koff ambushed Dave as he left his own bathroom that morning having been let in by Stewart. Dave, however, had time to put on his light blue y-fronts before he left the bathroom and was made to taste the landing carpet. Dave was muscular but the twelve year old stood no chance against the older boy even if Stewart wasn’t standing by with the necessary supplies. The adults were already at work on the campsite so Koff knew that he had all the time he needed to secure his prize.
Dave and his brother shared a weakness: both of them were extremely ticklish. There was, however, certainly no solidarity over the matter as far as Stewart was concerned as he knelt with his back to Koff securing his brother’s knees between his own and holding his insteps tightly against his torso using his left arm. Koff was feeling magnanimous and offered Dave the chance to submit as he sat on his back and twisted his right arm painfully. Dave should have appreciated the impossibility of his situation but learning the lessons of history was not his strong point. His big brother was delighted when he declined the opportunity. Or, at least I think that’s what the phrase, “Get off me, Carpet-Head, or I’ll rip your balls off,” meant. Koff gave another painful twist to Dave’s arm and invited Stewart to “persuade him”.
It was a good job that there was a house wall and a high hedge between the site and the Lennox house to absorb the squeals, obscene threats and, eventually the breathless begging as Stewart applied himself to his task. It was only about five minutes before Dave agreed to submit but for him that was an eternity.
“Yes, yes, I submit.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes, Ah-aha-aha, yes, please, - tell - him - to - stop. Aaahhh!”
“And you’ll take your beats?”
“Yes! I’m – aha- goahing to wehet, myself.”
“I think you can stop now, Mate.”
“Are you sure?”
“Eeerrrh!”
“Oooo, I think so.”
Stewart stopped the tickling and Dave stopped bucking and beating the ground with his free fist.
“Put your hand on your head. - - - Good. - - - now I’m going to let go of this arm.” Koff gave it just one final twist in case Dave didn’t know which one he meant. “Put your hand on your head. - - - Good boy. Stewart, secure the prisoner while I sort out the kit, will you?”
Before Koff dismounted, Stewart raised his bum from his brother’s legs, bent them back and tucked the feet under his armpits. That left the unfortunate younger boy in a classic Boston crab.
“No. You keep your hands on your head and Stewart won’t need to relax too much, will you, Mate?”
“Oh, I think I’ll be alright as long as the worm behaves.”
Dave knew how painful the hold could be from considerable past experience where his brother had practiced his wrestling holds on him before taking on anyone bigger. Fortunately for Dave, Stewart did not feel the need to relax while Koff disentangled the ropes he wanted to use but he couldn’t resist a couple of light bounces.
“Remember, you submitted. Now, I can ask my friend here to put you in an Indian deathlock while I deal with your arms or you can promise to cooperate. What do you want?” Stewart helped Dave to make up his mind with a few more bounces after which Dave wasn’t sure that he wouldn’t prefer to be tickled again. Isn’t brotherly love a wonderful thing?
Stewart released his brother’s ankles and, good as his word, Dave presented his arms behind his back. Koff had already doubled a rope and soon had Dave’s wrists crossed behind his back and skilfully tied. There was quite a lot of rope left and Koff gave Dave the chance to stand up unassisted. Dave had become used to that! The remaining free ends were brought as one round Dave’s waist, pulled tight and secured behind his back. Dave thought the Second Chance Fairy had visited; the knots were reachable. Perhaps she had but he knew that she’d also brought the Shit Fairy with her once Koff had brought the remaining free ends in counter directions round Dave’s waist and tied them off in front of him.
Dave’s wrists were already immobilised to all intents and purposes and it was probably just adding insult to injury when Koff got another rope and wound it several times, none too tightly round Dave’s arms just below his already prominent pecs. All his pleadings were of no avail as Koff took two lengths of sisal and looped them several times between Dave’s arms and his torso, tightening the rope and ensuring that Dave wouldn’t be able to work it up over his shoulders.
Having proved ineffective, Dave’s pleas turned into abuse.
“My mummy doesn’t like me hearing language like that.”
“No, Please, I’m sorry, no” It was no use; as Dave backed away from the knotted football scarf that Koff was holding, his brother embraced him in a far from loving bear hug.
“Don’t forget: you submitted. Now open up!” Dave glared and reluctantly complied. “That’s better.” Dave found the knot in the Bristol City FC scarf being pulled tightly back into his mouth as Koff tied it off behind his neck. The substantial knot in Dave’s mouth hadn’t left Koff enough fabric to bring the ends round and knot them in his mouth again so Koff went to pick up a roll of gaffer tape.
“Eeeesh.”
“Too late, you should have thought of that before you taxed my clothes.” Koff was generous with the amount of tape he wound around the lower half of Dave’s face. But he did pick up a marker and drew a smiling mouth on it.
-----00000-----
Koff read Dave his fortune and offered him a “choice”.
“Alright, we need to get you onto Longholme. There’s not many people around so I thought I’d return the compliment and strip you off and make you run for the boat.” Dave convulsed in his brother’s bear-hug. “Oh, don’t you want people to see you like that? OK, here’s what we’ll do: we’ll wait until there’s a few more people around and still let you run to the boat but in just your underpants.” Dave didn’t seem to like that suggestion either. “Ungrateful little tic, your brother, isn’t he?”
“Always has been.”
“Right then, final offer before you do the nuddie run.” Dave stopped struggling. “We’ll make sure no one sees you but we need time to prepare. Co-operate?” Dave nodded frantically.
“OK mate, drop him. Now, if you know what’s good for you, sit down and cross your legs.” Having considered the alternatives, Dave meekly did as he was advised and didn’t even resist as Koff repositioned his legs so that his feet were more or less against the opposite knees. Stewart supported his legs as he tipped Dave onto his back and after a very few minutes Koff had encased Dave’s lower legs in generous layers of gaffer tape.
“That’s good, just one final touch then we can go and prepare Sir’s transport.” So saying, Koff forced their victim to sit up once more and Stewart handed him another length of rope. The two of them had obviously planned very carefully. Koff laid the rope over the top of Dave’s thighs and threaded the ends round them and up between them. He pulled tight eliciting a pleasing squeal from the unfortunate dark-haired kid before telling him to bend forwards. Dave doubled up rather than waiting for “assistance” and Koff tied the free ends in a figure of eight knot a bit more than a foot from Dave’s calves. He pulled one to each side of Dave’s neck and knotted them pulling the prisoner into a hunched posture. There was no way Dave could slip his head out of the resultant loop but also no way it could tighten round his neck. Koff was renowned for his tying techniques and he’d obviously thought carefully about what he would do to Dave to keep him secure but safe.
“Right then, Little Brother, you behave while me and my friend here go and get your carriage.” Dave had little choice as the older boys left him where he was.
Boxer shorts are cool,
but little speedos rule!
More by the same author: viewtopic.php?f=5&t=22729

### Re: Dave Gets a Little Talking To

Post by xtc » Sun Oct 28, 2012 6:32 am

DAVE GETS A LITTLE TALKING TO
Just because he had submitted didn’t mean that Dave wouldn’t try to escape while his captors were away but he knew that, tied as he was, all the while his knees were apart, he would find it very difficult to sit up again if he fell over so he concentrated on the vain attempt to force his legs through the gaffer tape and manoeuvre his knees together. Simple engineering considerations should have dictated the futility of his endeavour unless all the tape could be unravelled but that didn’t stop Dave trying.
By the time the two older boys returned Dave was still as tightly bound as before and had managed to retain his seating posture so his big brother thought he’d just roll him around the landing a bit while Koff supported the giant cardboard tube that they had retrieved and left lying on the stairs.
“Right then, Little Brother, see this? Oh, sorry of course you can’t.” and indeed, as Stewart had left Dave with his arse in the air and his head on the floor, he couldn’t. “There, that’s better.” And Stewart helped Dave into a sitting position again while he continued with his lecture. “Remember that carpet that Dad laid in the club room last week? Well, this is what it came on. I knew it would come in handy for something.” The substantial salvaged cardboard tube was huge, about twelve feet long and Stewart and Koff had already found it quite awkward to get as far as the staircase. Following his big brother’s explanation of how it was about to be used, Dave knew that he had the choice of co-operating or taking the naked run that he was offered as an alternative. Koff still pretended that he favoured the nude run.
Koff’s knife made short work of the gaffer tape and he re-secured Dave’s ankles and knees with more of it. “OK, Maggot, in you go.” Dave took the hint and shuffled himself across the landing until he was about to insert his feet into the tube. “Hold it a minute.” Koff’s knife was sharp and Dave wasn’t too happy about seeing him insert it between his right hip and the fabric of his briefs. He did his best to keep still. “Now your brother and me don’t quite agree about the next part. I think I ought to just cut your knickers off so that you have to brace yourself against the tube to stop falling out of it in front of everybody and showing them everything you’ve got. Not that that’s much to shout about.” Dave was in no position to protest. “He says you need to keep your underpants in case his parents catch us. What do you think, Maggot?” By a process of nodding and shaking his head in response to Koff’s prompts, Dave managed to convey that he’d very much prefer not to risk being seen by everybody naked and then realised that he’d just asked Koff to tie him into the tube “to protect his modesty”.
Koff threaded a rope between Dave’s shins, pulled it through and fed both ends into the top of the tube, which was just about level with the top of the stairs. The rope snaked down the tube, appearing at the bottom where Koff had gone to collect it.
“Ready?”
“Ready.” And Stewart supported his brother’s shoulders while Koff pulled hard on the rope causing Dave to start sliding into the tube. “Woah, woah, hold it.” By the time Stewart had said that, Dave’s bum and even his hands were already in the tube. He dropped Dave and grabbed another rope. The little muscular kid found his larger muscular brother threading the ends of the rope between his very tightly bound arms and torso. Once he was ready Stewart very gently pulled the rope completely through until it passed across his brother’s chest and under his arm-pits. He did it gently because, although he was happy to help torture his little brother to pay him back for humiliating their friend, neither of the older boys would want Dave to suffer the inevitable rope-burns that would result in his pulling the rope through quickly.
Stewart tied a reef knot between Dave’s shoulders to prevent slippage, a task that was quite cumbersome with such a long, unravelled rope. “OK, all done, haul away.”
Koff hauled and Dave disappeared into the hefty cardboard tube. Stewart squashed his brother’s already well developed shoulders as he slid down but the ropes round his arms stayed immovably in place as Stewart put light tension on his rope while Koff manoeuvred their passenger so that his feet were within easy reach of his hands.
“All passengers will now fasten their seat-belts.” Announced Koff and he set to work with his famous knife. There were soon two ragged holes about a foot and a half from the lower end of the tube: one in the top and, following a half-rotation of the tube which left the thoroughly jammed Dave face down, one in the opposite side. Koff wasn’t exactly sylph-like but he still managed to thread one end of the rope between Dave’s shins up through the top hole, where Stewart retrieved it, and pulled it a bit further through. The other end was passed through the opposite hole and Stewart and Koff pulled the rope straight, moving Dave a little further down the tube. The kidnappers wound the free ends of the rope in counter directions round the giant cardboard tube and stuffed the ends into the top hole where Koff went tube-diving again and fed them down between Dave’s legs and out of the bottom hole again. Once Stewart had pulled the rope tight and returned the ends round the tube to the top again, he knotted it off leaving Dave very little scope for movement along the tube.
A similar, but simpler procedure applied at the same distance from the opposite end of the tube left the “cargo” firmly fixed in position. At least they turned Dave face up again before removing him from the house.
-----00000-----
“OK, Joker Boy, listen up. We’re going to carry you through the campsite to the landing stage. If you don’t want to be seen, keep quiet. Get it?”
Dave tried to assure Koff that he did, in fact, get it but, as the two older boys slid the tube containing him down the stairs and lifted it onto their shoulders, Dave couldn’t help worrying about how they’d get him over to the island.
Stewart and Koff positively trotted through the site with their burden whilst repeatedly ‘singing’, ”Fifteen men on a dead man’s chest/Yo-ho-ho and a bottle of rum/Drink and the Devil have done for the rest/Yo-ho-ho, etc.” to cover any inadvertent noises that their passenger might make. They considered it advisable to avoid their obscene version of “What Shall We Do with the Drunken Sailor?” as they passed amongst the visitors.
They soon arrived at their private landing stage where they laid their package on the slats while they prepared their vessel for loading. They already had a wide framework to which they’d attached salvaged plastic barrels for when the Pirates wanted to play raft battles either between themselves or with the local Scout Troops. As long as they lashed the tube to the top of the framework, Dave should be safe even if the rocking did cause him considerable alarm when he was launched. Both the captors were robust and used to rowing so they coupled the raft onto the pulling boat and had a really demanding workout as they manoeuvred their tandem craft to the island. The journey wasn’t quick and Dave had some trouble controlling his bladder for various reasons during the voyage.
Once near the island, Stewart leapt out of the boat and pulled it inshore while Koff waded out to inspect his prisoner. “You OK, squirt?” Dave nodded. He knew that Koff would never deliberately hurt him. Normal torture didn’t count! “Safe word?” Looking down the tube, Koff could see Dave shaking his head. “Good man. Now you know you’re really going to have to pay for humiliating me?” From the tube came a sound not unlike an escape of gas.
The two kidnappers hauled the raft up onto the beach and ensured that it would be well clear of any rising tide and unlashed the tube and its contents.
-----00000-----
It was still that August of ’76 and Stewart had stripped down to his favourite black football shorts and Koff to his pale blue hi-leg swimming costume. Both boys took a break while they sat on the tube that still secured their victim and applied sun-block from their rucksacks that they’d lifted from the bottom of the pulling boat. They then entertained themselves by rocking the tube backwards and forwards somewhat as they sat on it while pretending to ignore the indignant, muffled protests from Dave within.
“Shall we?” said Stewart nodding his head down towards the tube.
“Why not?” Koff’s knife appeared from his rucksack and he cut the knots that were making sure Dave couldn’t slide along the tube. Once the ropes had been unthreaded, the two boys entered upon a discussion of whether Dave should be pulled out head first or feet first.
“He’s nearer this end.”
“Yes, but that wouldn’t be as much fun.”
The sounds that were emerging from the tube seemed to indicate that Dave wasn’t too happy about his having to take the longer route. Even though his broad shoulders were jammed reasonably firmly in the tube, the ropes round his arms remained in place throughout the manoeuvre. True to their Pirate calling, Koff and Stewart extracted the youngest boy to the accompaniment of “Heave-ho. Yo- ho, etc.” until the sweating and volubly complaining Dave was left lying on the beach frantically trying to pull his briefs, which had been dragged somewhat below his bum, back into place. The entertainment was too good for either his brother or his brother’s mate to help him but, by a process of shuffling, arching of the back and desperate clawing with his fingers, Dave was decent again (or at decent as his sweat-soaked underpants allowed) in little more than ten minutes.
-----00000-----
“You’re going to need this” said Koff as he approached his victim with his knife. Dave wasn’t sure how to take that as Koff cut the sisal securing the ropes around his arms and slipped the rope over his shoulders. He then untied the rope securing the victim’s wrists to his waist but left his wrists still tightly bound. There had to be a snag, it seemed as though Koff was releasing him. “Got that stake we were talking about, mate?”
“Got it here.” said Stewart as he returned from the old gun emplacement carrying a three-foot metal “T”-section stake and a sledge hammer. Although learning from the mistakes of history was not Dave’s strong point, some experiences left their imprints on his memory and Dave started squealing as he realised what was about to happen to him. “Wouldn’t want you going anywhere, would we?”
Once more Dave started to think that he’d prefer to be tickled until he wet himself but he didn’t have the ability to express his preference to his tormentors even if he thought they’d take any notice of him if he could. He just hoped that his desperate head-shaking and muffled pleas would make them relent. I told you he didn’t learn the lessons of history.
Koff dragged the younger boy across the sand and up onto firmer ground by the rope that was still attached to his ankles until he found a site that he considered suitable for securing his prisoner. Now, Dave was muscular rather than supple and Stewart knew that Koff would need his help as he went about his business. The stake was threaded between Dave’s arms, twisted until the leg of the “T” was towards his bum and levered upright forcing Dave, with his brother’s help, to arch his back considerably. Koff made a few tentative blows to the stake before releasing it by which time Dave could not lever it away from the vertical. Once he could use both hands on the hammer, the broad-shouldered Koff made short work of burying half the stake in the ground. The stake now pressed not far from Dave’s most delicate area while pulling his chest from the ground. Dave knew they hadn’t finished with him yet.
“Stop complaining, at least we’ve let you keep your underpants. That’s more than you did for Koff.”
“Yes, I wonder if we could thread your feet onto the stake as well. That should hurt after a while.”
“Nggg eeef!”
“Sorry, too late to plead.”
Koff made play of trying to pass the rope connecting Dave’s ankles over the stake without having any real intent to cause him that much discomfort but Dave didn’t know that. “Pity the little tyke’s not more flexible; I suppose I’ll just have to settle for this.” Koff hogtied Dave by threading the ends of his ankle rope each side of the stake and between his wrists before pulling him tight enough for him to be able to touch his ankles with his fingers. The rope was then threaded between Dave’s ankles and tied off against the stake so that the final knots were out of range of Dave’s fingers. That was what the Pirates referred to as “hog-staking” a prisoner.
Dave knew from experience that there was no way he’d be able to find a comfortable position and remembered with horror that prisoners who were to be subjected to that particular torture didn’t usually have their wrists crossed before being secured.
Stewart and Koff went over to a tree trunk that had been felled and took their ease in the sun while their prisoner tried vainly to find some ease and pleaded for release. They kept a careful eye on him but didn’t want him to have things too easy. I think they succeeded in that aim.
Boxer shorts are cool,
but little speedos rule!
More by the same author: viewtopic.php?f=5&t=22729

### Re: Dave Gets a Little Talking To

Post by sarumansauron » Wed Oct 31, 2012 7:15 pm

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

### Re: Dave Gets a Little Talking To

Post by xtc » Thu Nov 01, 2012 6:24 am

Thanks for the respone. It's nice to know someone cares.
I think there are two more parts to com.
Boxer shorts are cool,
but little speedos rule!
More by the same author: viewtopic.php?f=5&t=22729

### Re: Dave Gets a Little Talking To

Post by Sacrificiallove » Thu Nov 01, 2012 12:14 pm

I read the first part. I don't really feel like reading the second part at the moment, no offense to you. I just don't feel like reading anything at the moment, to be honest. But anyway, I liked your first post. I like how it's set in the 70s, but has short bits of modern-day humor, like the one about ripping balls off, or whatever it was. Then again, did they actually use the word balls back then? I wouldn't know. I wasn't alive. I mean, that was the era of drugs galaore, so I'm sure a whole lot of other crazy things started.
Anyway, I feel a little bad for the poor guy though. You said you try to make this more about games, but it sounds like he doesn't actually really like it. I mean, I know I wouldn't (but then again, I don't like being tied up). Then again, if someone stole my clothes and I had to walk around in the nude, I might be tempted to do this as well. Only if they were a dude though. I have to admit, I would get a lot of personal pleasure out of tying up a dude.
But yeah, nice use of different tying styles that we don't see too often around here.

### Re: Dave Gets a Little Talking To

Post by xtc » Fri Nov 02, 2012 4:42 pm

“I like how it's set in the 70s, but has short bits of modern-day humor, like the one about ripping balls off, or whatever it was. Then again, did they actually use the word balls back then?”
My dear madam, please may I assure you that we weren’t characters in a family TV show: balls, bollocks, nuts, (and worse) all were equal in our eyes and frequently issued from our mouths.
“I mean, that was the era of drugs galaore, so I'm sure a whole lot of other crazy things started.”
It has frequently been said that, if you remember the 60’s, you certainly weren’t there. A TV documentary? No, surely not. I didn’t do that, did I? Oh bum, I must have done. No, it can’t have been me; that bloke was skinny and young.
“Anyway, I feel a little bad for the poor guy though.”
Don’t feel bad for him; he deserved it!
Boxer shorts are cool,
but little speedos rule!
More by the same author: viewtopic.php?f=5&t=22729

### Re: Dave Gets a Little Talking To

Post by xtc » Fri Nov 02, 2012 4:44 pm

I'm away for a couple of days.
Going to the opera up in The Smoke.
Boxer shorts are cool,
but little speedos rule!
More by the same author: viewtopic.php?f=5&t=22729

### Re: Dave Gets a Little Talking To

Post by Sacrificiallove » Sat Nov 03, 2012 9:40 am

> xtc wrote:“I like how it's set in the 70s, but has short bits of modern-day humor, like the one about ripping balls off, or whatever it was. Then again, did they actually use the word balls back then?”
> My dear madam, please may I assure you that we weren’t characters in a family TV show: balls, bollocks, nuts, (and worse) all were equal in our eyes and frequently issued from our mouths.
> “I mean, that was the era of drugs galaore, so I'm sure a whole lot of other crazy things started.”
> It has frequently been said that, if you remember the 60’s, you certainly weren’t there. A TV documentary? No, surely not. I didn’t do that, did I? Oh bum, I must have done. No, it can’t have been me; that bloke was skinny and young.
> “Anyway, I feel a little bad for the poor guy though.”
> Don’t feel bad for him; he deserved it!

I suppose not. Too bad all I've seen of the 70s was family TV shows. My mom watches all those old sitcoms every single day. Heck, I don't even think I have a correct view of the 90s, cause I'll I've really seen from that was sitcoms, and also cartoons, since I was born in the 90s.
Is that supposed to be some funny way of saying that you were one of those druggies back then?

### Re: Dave Gets a Little Talking To

Post by Veracity » Sat Nov 03, 2012 8:39 pm

Big cardboard tube? Hell yeah. I love that.

### Re: Dave Gets a Little Talking To

Post by xtc » Tue Nov 06, 2012 3:42 am

DAVE GETS A LITTLE TALKING TO
Once Dave’s squealing had subsided into a sort of sighing noise, Koff went over to him. He was quite impressed, the little guy had held out for about half an hour before giving up. He knew that Stewart and he would have to release their subject soon as the stake was digging unpleasantly into Dave’s wrists not to mention certain other parts so he gave him a choice.
“Now, you know how nice I am.” Koff couldn’t accurately interpret the subsequent grunt. “I’m going to give you the chance to take some exercise. What do you say?” Koff paused, waiting for the suspicious Dave’s answer. “I’ll take that as a ‘Yes’. The trouble is that I haven’t returned the compliment you extended to me the other day yet.” Dave didn’t get it. “Oh sorry, I mean that you’ve been allowed to keep your y-fronts. Now, how did you leave me?” Dave should have seen it coming. It wasn’t as if the Pirates had never seen one another naked in the past but it was always in a situation of equality: in the showers and changing rooms. Dave knew that he’d be the only one naked this time and that made a difference. He started protesting again.
“Well, Little Brother, that’s the offer. Take it or leave it. Personally, I think my friend’s being very generous.” Stewart wasn’t sure what he’d do if Dave hadn’t accepted the “offer” because he knew he couldn’t leave his brother hog-staked in the sun for much longer and he was quite relieved when Dave nodded his acceptance of Koff’s generosity.
Koff explained to Dave that he didn’t have enough sun-block to share with him and that they’d have to improvise. He knew a way that Dave could combine exercise with working towards something that could serve as sun-block.
“Pity there’s no mud; he could just do press ups in it.”
“No, I think he ought to dig his own grave.”
“Good idea, burying him would cover him up against the sun.”
Not for a minute did Dave believe that the two older boys would really bury him alive but he still couldn’t figure out what they really intended to make him do. Koff untied Dave and warned him about the dire consequences of touching his gag without permission while Stewart went for a spade and a tarpaulin. Dave looked puzzled and stopped massaging his aching limbs for long enough to look questioningly at the others. The look was ineffective.
“OK, lose that gag and get a drink. First sound and it’s back to the stake. Understand?” There wasn’t much squealing as Dave removed the tape securing the football scarf in his mouth but he did accept the bottle gratefully from Stewart.
“Right, pants off, over here. Start digging. Long enough for you to lie in. I’ll let you know when it’s deep enough.” Dave tried pleading not to have to strip but the sight of the, by now dirt-encrusted football scarf being toyed with by his big brother was enough to silence him. Dave sighed deeply but he was soon naked and trying vainly to preserve his dignity. That was obviously a lost cause and the bare-footed Dave found the digging quite demanding but he soon had a sort of trench dug to a depth of about two feet with the excavated soil piled alongside it. “That’ll do. Over here. On your knees.” Dave could no longer keep his back to the other two boys and he didn’t even bother to try to cover himself up. It was much too late to worry about that.
“You know you said there was no mud?”
“Yeees?” Koff was intrigued.
“Well, I reckon he could make some.” Dave was puzzled. “It’s like this. Watch and learn. OK, maggot, time to line your grave. Use that tarpaulin then go and get a bucket and bring it back here. If you’re VERY quick and do a very neat job, I’ll allow you to beg my friend here to let you put your pants back on. GO!”
That was hardly a guarantee of even a partial reinstatement of Dave’s dignity but he would clutch at any straw and he didn’t need telling twice. He rose to his feet and ran back to the trench. He laid the tarpaulin in it and arranged the excess neatly round the outside. He looked hopefully at his big brother who merely jerked his head towards the store. Dave got the idea and ran to get a bucket and brought it back to where his captors were sitting and sharing a bar of chocolate.
“Please (pant) Koff . . .”
“Woah, w-w- woah, I haven’t granted my permission yet. Put the bucket down and get on your knees.”
Dave did as he was told and waited for permission to speak.
“That’s better. Now beg me for permission.” Stewart moved his right foot towards Dave. Dave looked daggers at his brother but decided that he had no dignity left to lose. He kissed Stewart’s foot and then the other one when it was proffered.
“Yes, worm, what do you want?”
“Please may I ask Koff if I can put my cruddies back on?”
“Politer.”
Dave took a deep breath and tried again. This time Stewart was more pleased with his form of address. “OK, now ask nicely.”
Dave shuffled across to Koff and he knew he’d have to kiss his feet as well and wait for permission to speak. He only hoped he wouldn’t have to lick his foul, dirt encrusted feet. He was in luck.
“Speak.”
“Please, Koff, - Sir, . . .” Koff was looking unimpressed, “ Your Majesty, - please may I put my underpants back on?
Dave knew that he’d left a pair of running shorts and various other garments in the store on a previous visit. Was it worth a try? Why not?
“Sir – Your majesty?
“Speak, worm.”
“Please, Your Majesty, may I get a pair of shorts . . .”
“So you don’t want to put those on then?” said Koff looking at the discarded y-fronts.
Dave considered carefully. Even he caught the implication “The underpants?”
“Crawl over and get them.” Dave did as he was told and waited for permission to “dress”. The garment was not only still damp but was by now absolutely filthy. Dave stood, pulled up the blue nylon y-fronts and waited to learn his fate. He learnt that he had a “choice”: either he could be hog-staked again or he could get back to work. Dave chose not to be tortured. How trusting.
Following instruction, Dave must have shovelled nearly half the excavated soil back into his hard-won trench before Stewart declared himself satisfied. “That’ll do. Now get the bucket, take it to the creek and get some water. Pour it in the hole. I’ll let you know when you’ve got enough.” Now Dave knew what he was going to be made to do. It probably wouldn’t be so bad, he enjoyed gym. He sauntered off to the creek and came back with a bucket more or less filled with water.
“Hold it! That wasn’t quick enough. Pour it away over there and go back for more. Quicker this time.” Dave managed not to swear. He emptied his burden and ran back to the creek. It must have taken him over twenty trips before Stewart pronounced himself satisfied. “OK, Mud Puppy, get in.” Dave looked puzzled. “In there and mix it up a bit.” Dave climbed in the mud-filled hole and started stirring with his feet. “Use your hands too.” The poisonous look was still not working as Dave got down on all fours and started moving around the trench making disgusted-type noises. Stewart had judged things well; Dave’s face was still well clear of the surface but his entire face got a comprehensive splashing with mud as he worked.
Koff looked on, happy to see his erstwhile trickster looking more pathetic with each task. “OK, that’s enough. Who told you you could stand up? Go on, get down again.” The rims of Dave’s eyes showed pink through the grey-brown mask. “OK, gym-bunny, give me ten.” Dave took a deep breath and started the press-ups by the end of which there was only a minimal area of his back, on his shoulder blades, that was not covered in mud. “Enough.” Dave sighed with relief. “Come and get this bucket.” Dave climbed out of the trench, collected the bucket and awaited further instructions. Stewart was impressed by his friend’s ingenuity.
Dave was made to fill the bucket with mud before up-ending it towards one end of the trench. “Use that as a pillow, bend your knees and give me twenty sit-ups. . . . Unless you want to go back to the stake. Even that was starting to sound inviting by this time. Koff and Stewart really put Dave through it over several rounds of press-ups (“And make sure you get right down.”) and sit-ups with reminders that he still had to make his way from the boat to his home once they had finished with him. He didn’t think that wearing nothing more than a layer of drying mud would provide adequate cover for his embarrassment as he did so.
“Think your brother’s had enough yet?”
“You know your trouble? You’re all heart.”
“No, seriously?
“All that mud must support him, those press-ups can’t be that hard.” Stewart didn’t seem to take into account the effect of the mud up his brother’s nose or what sounded like a sucking effect as he tried to curl his back to touch his elbows to the opposite knees.
“Feel like asking me nicely if you can stop? No – keep doing the press-ups while you beg.”
Dave managed to suck up to Koff sufficiently for him to be allowed to get out of the pit and kneel before the two older boys.
“Now we’ve got to get you home before your parents start to worry.” Dave cheered up.
“Don’t bother, I told them we were camping on Longholme tonight.” Dave became miserable again. He looked at each of his tormentors alternately, his mood lowering all the time as the two boys pretended to be discussing the increasingly unpleasant things that they might do to him in transit and whether he should be made to run across the campsite naked. They wouldn’t do that to him but, after what he’d done to Koff, Dave certainly believed that they would.
“Ok worm, I’m feeling generous. Would you like to cross back to the mainland in the pulling boat or on that lovely raft?” There would normally be no choice even if Dave did see himself having to do all the rowing. Despite being suspicious, Dave chose the boat.
“Sorry, you can’t get in our nice, clean boat like that.”
“Then why did you ask?”
“That wasn’t very humble!”
“Sorry, sorry, . . . Your majesty . . . I didn’t mean . . .”
“Silence worm! Face down on the ground. Hands on your head.” Dave prostrated himself before the others could think of something even more unpleasant that he could do for their entertainment.
“Alright, I said I was feeling generous. Pull that tarp out of the pit and lay it out flat. Go.”
Dave raised himself, rushed over to the pit and pulled. There was no way!
“Oh, you’ll probably have to empty a lot of that mud out first. Get on with it.” Dave’s eyes glared through his mask of mud as he collected the bucket.
“Why didn’t you make him do it with his hands?”
“Because I’m the nice guy. And anyway, there’s something on the telly tonight.”
“Have I ever told you you’re all heart?”
Dave worked away taking buckets of mud out of the trench and dumping the contents far enough away for his brother not to be able to see where he was disposing of it but at least he was allowed water to drink. The layer of mud he was wearing did, in fairness make a quite reasonable sun-block but Stewart decided that, when he used some of his drinking water to clean his face, he was no longer adequately protected. “Back in that trench and face down. Duck yourself.” Dave tried but there was no longer enough mud to submerge even his face completely. “OK, just shake your head in it. SLOWLY!” Dave’s face was soon sufficiently, in his brother’s opinion, covered to be “safe” again.
“OK worm,” they just didn’t stop to think that Dave’s physique made the “worm” form of address singularly inappropriate to describe him, “try pulling the tarp out now.” Dave climbed out of the trench and pulled. He soon had the sheet arranged to his “superiors’” satisfaction.
“We can’t have a muddy little squit like you in our nice, clean boat so we’re going to protect it a bit. Lie down.” Dave looked around somewhat confused but following further explanation and a few renewed threats concerning a possible future run in the “nuddie”, he quickly laid himself on the tarpaulin, near to one edge, and drew his arms to his sides. There was still a considerable amount of mud on both sides of the fabric. Dave guessed what was about to happen.
Stewart and Koff went to work rolling Dave in the stiff tarpaulin. They soon had him “nicely parcelled up” with ropes round where, roughly, his shoulders, elbows, wrists, bum crease, and knees were. They then doubled the fabric back from the foot end before securing it round his ankles and around his legs once more. They didn’t bother even threatening to do the same at the head end.
“Breathe OK?” Dave affirmed that he could. “Safety word?”
“Fuck oooorf.” The rising inflection in Dave’s voice indicated that that was a silly question, he was in no real danger and, if they did untie him now, he knew would be socially excluded until he’d finished “paying his debt to society”.
“Good kid.”
“You’re not supposed to call him that.”
“Sorry. Forgot.”
Stewart and Koff tidied up the site and left Dave unattended while they transferred some kit to the pulling boat. When they returned, Dave’s journey to the boat was probably the most uncomfortable one he had ever undertaken. Stewart threaded some ropes through the eyelets near the head end of the tarp; one for him and one for Koff. The two boys then took one each and dragged their very noisy passenger to the shore. The tide was out so there was no point using the landing stage. So Koff released the mooring line and pulled the boat up onto the beach. Dave then found himself hoisted by the ropes that surrounded his shroud and dumped unceremoniously into the boat.
“Stowing the cargo” took quite some time as Stewart held up the head end of the package while Koff slid the other end under the middle seat. Koff then laid the head end down and adjusted the cargo until Dave’s hidden face was positioned under the fore seat. The cargo was then threatened once more with being made to streak for home if it so much as shifted during transit.
Stewart and Koff launched the boat and brought it about before jumping in. Stewart sat in the stern, taking the tiller and Koff sat on the middle seat facing him with one leg on either side of their victim. With one final threat about it’s being lovely weather for naturists, he took the oars and stroked for the mainland.
-----00000-----
Koff wasn’t as muscular as his dark-haired co-conspirator but he was certainly very sturdy and those great, square shoulders made easy work of the rather long journey back to the campsite. Dave required very little “adjusting” (with Koff’s bare feet) during the journey, he REALLY didn’t want to run from the pier, through the campsite to his home wearing just the abraded remains of Longholme mud. Eventually, he felt the boat bump into the jetty with the cry of, “Woahh! Acoustic parking!” from Stewart, “What was that? Ramming speed?”
Koff merely instructed Stewart to make love elsewhere and suggested that, if he could do better, he could row next time. “Besides, who was facing the right way? YOU never told me we were so close.”
As the friendly banter and mutual blame-fest continued, Dave couldn’t care WHO was to blame for the spectacular berthing; he was busy wondering how much protection from the eyes of strangers his by now filthy but still wet briefs would provide. They were certainly accentuating his assets earlier and, whatever the other two said about them, he was a growing lad.
Dave was dreading all sorts of retribution from Koff (Would they tie him up and make him run? Would they strip him and tie him to the pier? . . .); many things went through Dave’s mind as Stewart and Koff undid the ropes securing their cargo while they continued apportioning blame to one another. There was a rocking as Stewart jumped out of the boat and Dave found himself being slid towards the stern of the boat before his head was raised and he was pulled backwards and made to sit up. He couldn’t figure out how his “carers” managed the next part but he was obviously pulled out of the boat and thrown across someone’s shoulder. There was then another splash and Dave was almost immediately laid across the arms of his captors still in the slightly unravelling tarpaulin.
“Arrrr lads, over the soid!” Dave just about had time to take in what Koff the Pirate was saying before he was decanted into the water like Cleopatra rolling out of her carpet. There was then much laughter but only from two of the boys. Dave soon surfaced and all three boys were standing in water that was about thigh deep to the older boys and little deeper to Dave.
Koff reached into the boat and grabbed something red. “OK. Move into deeper water and swap those knickers for these. No one can see you.” Dave had never been more pleased to see his second favourite pair of “three-stripe” running shorts. OK, he wouldn’t usually go swimming in them but other people did and at least he wouldn’t look too weird as he ran for home.
As Dave was busy protecting his modesty, his big brother told him that he had to clean out the pulling boat because he was the one who had “filled it with mud”. In the circumstances, Dave thought that was fair enough, especially now that he was more-or-less decently attired.
“Oh, by the way, well done, maggot.”
“Quits?”
“Quits!” Koff and Dave high fived with their right hands.
Koff and Stewart departed to take a shower (Koff took his hi-legs into the shower with him this time – just in case.) and to watch the Lennox family’s telly while Dave set, more or less happily, to work thinking that perhaps he’d learnt his lesson. No – only kidding about that last bit. He was busy plotting.
Boxer shorts are cool,
but little speedos rule!
More by the same author: viewtopic.php?f=5&t=22729

### Re: Dave Gets a Little Talking To

Post by sarumansauron » Tue Nov 06, 2012 4:50 pm

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

### Re: Dave Gets a Little Talking To

Post by xtc » Tue Nov 06, 2012 5:06 pm

Thank you but that's not just a continuation; that's the end.
I appreciate your support.
Boxer shorts are cool,
but little speedos rule!
More by the same author: viewtopic.php?f=5&t=22729

### Re: Dave Gets a Little Talking To

Post by Veracity » Sun Nov 11, 2012 8:30 pm

I enjoyed that a lot, and very sad to learn there won't be more.

### Re: Dave Gets a Little Talking To

Post by Sacrificiallove » Tue Nov 13, 2012 5:35 pm

Are press-ups what we Americans call push-ups?
Anyway, I hate the idea of me running around naked, but if I were Dave, from the very start I'd just say I'd take the nude run. I mean, the push-ups and sit-ups in the mud doesn't sound too bad, but I would not ever want to be tied up, so I'd take running around in my birthday suit any day.
But gosh, this gives me some great ideas that I unfortunately can never implement in real life. I'd love to take revenge on this one guy. I'd probably take him to a park and put him on a sort of leash or something.
Anyway, rambling aside, I liked this. Tied up guys are certainly my cup of tea.

### Re: Dave Gets a Little Talking To

Post by xtc » Tue Nov 13, 2012 5:43 pm

Thanks for the reply.
Yes, I think press-ups are push-ups. Dave was proud of his young gym-monkey physique but he wasn't fond of ducking himself in mud every time he dipped.
He could have always chosen the run. Perhaps the others were bluffing. Or perhaps not after what he'd done to koff.
Boxer shorts are cool,
but little speedos rule!
More by the same author: viewtopic.php?f=5&t=22729

### Re: Dave Gets a Little Talking To

Post by Sacrificiallove » Tue Nov 13, 2012 6:35 pm

I could think of a lot of other things that are a lot worse than running around in the buff. Being tied up is one of them (at least for me). You make it sound like it's one of the nastiest things in the world. Maybe it is, and I'm just so turned off to being tied up that my opinion is tainted. I will say, I'd much rather do push-ups in the mud than run around in the nude.

### Re: Dave Gets a Little Talking To

Post by TUfriend » Mon Nov 19, 2012 6:37 pm

An end to yet another of your great series. Amazing.
Heil Toddman, the Wonderful Wizard of Odd
I'm a nerd with a dangerous side.
See my most recent TRUE story, "SPL Initiation", here.
Read my most recent FICTIONAL story, "The Birth of a Whovian", here

### Re: Dave Gets a Little Talking To

Post by xtc » Tue Nov 20, 2012 2:21 am

Thanks. It's always comforting to know that people appreciate the stories.
Boxer shorts are cool,
but little speedos rule!
More by the same author: viewtopic.php?f=5&t=22729