The Last War Of Summer
By Richard
Prologue
Sunday, November 11th 2001 - 02:02:50 AM
I have been promising my next story for some time and am pleased to say that I am now able to start posting it. While some of the background to these tales lies in my previous posts (see the two stories in the July archives and the last in August - BTW it is great to see most of the old stories back up and available to everyone!) I thought I would repeat some of it here for the benefit of new readers and add some additional comments to perhaps go some way to explaining our motives and objectives.
My father served in the armed forces and I was fortunate to spend two years or so of my childhood in the mid 60's on an island in the Mediterranean (I was between 12 and 13 when these stories commence). Our community was self contained and a considerable number of the boys were involved in scouting. With no English language TV (and no computer games etc!) this became one of our chief activities apart from swimming. The climate enabled us to enjoy an outdoor existence all the year round but we were doubly fortunate in that our scout unit had the virtually exclusive use of extensive woodland and rocky scrub extending to approximately 20 acres (a considerable area).
I had been a member of other scout groups before my arrival in this "boy's paradise" and at each one tie up games and situations were not uncommon (give any group of small boys some lengths of rope and ask them to practice knots and they will, without any doubt, within a few minutes be doing so on one another!) but on my arrival here I found it had developed almost to an art form! Naturally, as families came and went our members (and players) changed. No boy was ever coerced into taking part but we were never short of participants. However, all those who joined in knew that if captured they would certainly be tied up in what ever way their captor pleased and might be subjected to "torture" (the ubiquitous tickle torture - never underestimate its effectiveness or the ferocity with which young boys can administer it to their chums!).
Why were these games so popular? For my own part I was always nervous of being tied up, I think in part from a reluctance to appear less dextrous than others through an inability to escape my bonds (in retrospect a foolish fear since I don't recall many instances of a boy actually freeing himself after being bound by the principle protagonists). On the other hand, I already knew that I found the loss of freedom and the knowledge that one never quite knew what might happen next wildly exciting in every sense of the word. I think perhaps that overcoming my fears was part of the turn on. As the climate was hot and we were all generally scantily clad (a tee shirt and gym shorts became almost a uniform) it wasn't difficult to tell that others were affected similarly. However, no reference was ever made to our "excitement", our ages ranged from approximately 12 years to about 15½ and certainly amongst us younger boys we did not understand such stirrings - there were no sexual connotations. That no girls were involved was simply a sign of the times. Mixed scouting was years away in the UK and certainly the younger players hadn't started to discover the "fairer sex".
I believe these games probably grew from an extension of the "cops and robbers/war games" played by most youngsters then. We generally carried water pistols and our rules stated that if hit by the opposition you were required to surrender. The great advantage over the "bang, bang you're dead" scenario was that, by taking prisoners and tying them up, gagging them and (possibly) "torturing" them, we were able to achieve a greater and more satisfying degree of realism.
I would be the last to deny that some of the acts perpetrated on our mates had inherent dangers. I would most certainly discourage any younger readers from attempting to emulate what we did. However, in mitigation I would just say that no one ever (fortunately) sustained any real injury beyond occasional bruised wrists and/or ankles and I don't recall any regular player deciding that he no longer wished to take part.
Our leaders certainly knew what took place from time to time (a few of our "activities" took place at regular scout meetings or camps) but in those "pre PC" days they chose not to interfere so long as no one was hurt or singled out for bullying (which in my memory never took place). We were grateful to them for their forbearance. I also think that some parents must have had some idea of what took place at weekends but again they never interfered. Certainly my own must have seen my bruised wrists from time to time (when dressed only in shorts and short sleeved shirts for most of the time it would be difficult to conceal them). Never once did they make any comment and for this I was truly appreciative.
Finally, the stories are in essence true. I have remarkably graphic memories of all the games we played. I am sure everyone will realise that the dialogue is not original. I have tried to convey the atmosphere and camaraderie that prevailed amongst a large group of boys of disparate age who formed a very close friendship. I hope everyone will forgive this in the interests of making the stories (hopefully) more enjoyable.
And so to the next tale...
Richard
UK
Sunday, November 11th 2001 - 02:06:54 AM
The Last War of Summer - Part 1
A week passed after my last adventure (see More Tales from the Woods - August 27) and I and my close friends received word that our next game (the big one we had all been waiting for) would take place during the afternoon and evening of the following Saturday. We were expecting a big turnout since it would be our last opportunity for a battle on the scale anticipated and we knew many of our pals were planning to camp overnight. James, Robert, David and I decided we would do the same since it would free us from the possibility of a "parental curfew". The remaining days to the end of the week seemed to be interminable.
At last the day arrived and my three buddies called for me early so that we could lay our plans and see what else might be cooking in the woods. The other three were still enjoying the joke of my being made to walk home with my hands tied behind me by my older brother Chris, after our last get together. I told them it was wearing a little thin and that they had better beware since I was still looking for revenge for their part in Chris's scheme.
In this way we arrived in the woods in high spirits some time before midday and immediately heard the sound of hammering coming from behind the dense undergrowth. We followed the sound to the clearing in front of Mike's patrol hut where he, Matthew, Peter and several others were gathered, all dressed as we were in blue cotton gym shorts and tee shirts of various colours. They were all camping overnight and some tents were pitched close by. Peter was hammering long steel tent pegs into the hard ground with a mallet. Curious, we asked what was going on. "I'm surprised you need to ask," Mike responded, grinning mischievously. "Come and look. We are knocking these pegs into the ground exactly where they were when we staked you and James out here a few weeks ago. Wasn't it clever of us to protect the holes? We thought we might as well prepare the site for you in advance." I glanced to the left and saw four more stakes already hammered home, each one standing about a foot clear of the ground and shuddered involuntarily, remembering how effectively we had been secured.
Peter finished his hammering and looking up with a gleam in his eye said, "It's a good thing you are here early. Now we can check and make sure we've got everything right!" For some inexplicable reason I didn't grasp what he meant but suddenly I sensed my buddies had drawn away from me slightly and as Mike cried, "Get him!" I was pounced on by six boys and wrestled to the ground. Despite struggling furiously and protesting loudly at the infamy of their unprovoked attack I was soon lying on my back with a boy sitting astride my stomach pinning my shoulders to the ground while other hands held my kicking ankles. Looking up I saw Mike stooping over me holding several lengths of rope and in no time at all my wrists and ankles were being tightly lashed to the prepared stakes. The boys holding me down stood up and I lay, hot and sweaty and gasping for breath after my exertions. With my limbs stretched tightly to the pegs I lay with my back arched, my whole body as taught as a bowstring. There was no doubt - they had definitely got the stakes in the right places!
I continued to protest loudly and Mike laughed, "Just testing it out and you were the obvious candidate. We will let you up in a minute. By the way, what time is Chris arriving - we thought he would be with you." Despite my situation I lay still and stared open mouthed at Mike; I had no idea my big brother was joining us. Mike laughed again as he realised his announcement was a revelation to me. "I had no idea you didn't know. We invited him to join in after the trick he played on you last time and he accepted immediately." I lay still now pondering what I had heard. I wasn't angry with my brother for what he had done, indeed we remained on the best of terms but if a few friends and I could arrange things properly I might yet get revenge! Disappointed that my struggles and protests had ceased my captors released me and the four of us excused ourselves in order to pitch our tents and discuss this news.
It was obvious that if we could manipulate the teams then my brother could be made to pay for humiliating me!
It had been agreed in advance that our "game" would be a straight forward and wide ranging version of Capture the Flag, with two opposing teams of approximately equal strength and broad limits to the territory as we were expecting at least 15 players and maybe more (It seemed that almost the whole troop had decided to participate including some who were not usually party to our acts of barbarity). Two bases would be established at opposite ends of the woods and those of us who were camping for the weekend had pitched our tents accordingly. A flag would be flown at each of these bases and the game would end when the opposing side took one of these. This was, however, only really symbolic since this could only happen when all the opposing side had been captured and duly accounted for. For the benefit of those who would have to return home a time limit was set and in the event of this limit being reached the game would be decided by the number of prisoners held. It was of course understood by us all that any one being captured would be bound and might be "tortured" for information. We were "armed" with our trusty water pistols and the rule of surrendering when hit applied. Otherwise, it was to be pretty well open warfare with anything goes short of causing serious pain or physical harm.
Tents etc. duly pitched we gathered at lunchtime at Mike's base. Doting parents had provided enough cold food to provide a substantial lunch for the eighteen boys who were now present, presumably well pleased to have their offspring "off their hands" for the best part of the weekend. While we ate, we discussed our plans and decided our teams, the mainstay of which was our regular players but now augmented by our less frequent buddies. As usual James and I would be teamed together, joined by David, Robert, Stuart and Ken. Matthew and Paul (two brothers who have featured in my tales previously) would join us together with Colin (13), not new to our activities but not a regular participant either. We were amazed that eighteen boys had gathered for the fun and in the middle of our discussions my sixteen year old brother, Chris arrived. I was desperate to ensure that Chris would join the opposition (how else could we arrange his capture and torture?) but Mike argued forcefully that, while our two teams were equal numerically we were weaker as our average age was less. After a long argument I was forced to give way and Chris joined our "mob". As this decision was reached I saw his eyes meet Mike's and a fleeting smile passed across his face. I should have realised then that all was not as it seemed but the moment passed and was forgotten as we moved out to our own base to make our plans and deploy our forces...
Richard
UK
Sunday, November 11th 2001 - 02:09:32 AM
The Last War of Summer - Part 2
We had a couple of hours to plan our strategy and sort out our equipment - rope and cloths for gags. As usual each of us would be equipped with a couple of good lengths of rope. Generally, this meant that there would be rope available to tie up any boy being caught since his captor could use his prisoner's supply thus retaining his own (which would probably be used on him within a few minutes!). Additional supplies (including longer lengths of rope) would be held at our base so we would have plenty for dealing with longer-term prisoners. A much greater problem was material for gags. We were not used to having so many participants and we might very well need to improvise. On the occasions when we were in uniform each boy had his own scarf but this didn't apply today.
Chris suggested we should have two boys concealed at our base area in case Mike decided to try and raid our stores and after a little discussion Colin and Ken volunteered for this. Our tents were surrounded by dense undergrowth providing plenty of cover and we agreed with Chris that it was unlikely the others would come in much force. In those circumstances Colin and Ken were instructed to observe proceedings and attempt to link up with more of us when we would attempt a counter attack. Our strategy was otherwise simply to be based on first concealing ourselves carefully and then watching for the enemy grabbing any chance we might have for taking prisoners while remaining free ourselves. Chris cautioned against launching an attack directly on the opposition's base unless we were forced to retaliate since he felt sure it would be heavily defended and consequently we would suffer heavy losses. Each of us disclosed where we were planning to conceal ourselves initially and just before 3.30pm (the agreed starting time) we moved out silently to take up our positions.
James and I, as inseparable as always, set out together but once out of sight of the others James caught me by the arm and said, "We are not going where we said. Follow me!" He led me to a dry ditch, quite overgrown with thick bushes. It effectively formed a tunnel beneath the vegetation in which we could move quite freely while keeping a large area under observation and at the same time remaining concealed. We made ourselves comfortable and at last we were able to discuss matters freely. I asked James why he had brought me here rather than our declared hideout and he surprised me by reminding me of the look that passed between my brother and Mike earlier when the teams were decided - I didn't realise that anyone else had noticed. "It may not be important, but his was the major influence on the way we were deployed this afternoon," he added.
"What do you think is going on?" I asked. "I don't know, but somehow I don't trust him" James replied.
We sat for a further 15 minutes or so and I pondered James's words when suddenly I realised that, if he were right, Ken and Colin were in grave danger. "I must go and warn them" I told James. "If I am not back here in half an hour try to make contact with the others and warn them what we suspect, but whatever you do don't take any risks. If Chris is playing a double game, he knows all our hiding places and they will simply wipe us out. Above all, don't attempt a rescue until you have made contact with at least some of them" I added bravely, although I didn't feel so!
I silently slipped out of our ditch and using the undergrowth and dense shrubs for cover crept silently towards our base. I knew James was an excellent shot with a water pistol and was well able to look after himself.
Arriving at last at our base camp I peered out from my hiding place and was horrified by what I saw. Colin and Ken were both struggling on the ground, their hands tightly bound behind their backs, and their ankles lashed together. Both boys were securely gagged. Colin was already hog tied and Mark, one of the opposition was in the process of completing the same operation on Ken, lashing his wrists and ankles together so tightly that his fingers were brushing his heels. Mark was accompanied by Andrew who was watching Mark's work approvingly. As I watched, my brother sidled out of the bushes opposite and congratulated our two enemies! They were not in the least surprised to see Chris and told him delightedly how easy it had been to shoot my two buddies before either was aware they were being watched.
"You had better get these two back to your base as quickly as possible and get them well trussed up" laughed Chris. "I don't think my brother and his pals suspect a thing so we should be able to finish this in no time at all! I've caught Stuart and have him trussed up and hidden away but I'm a bit worried that I was unable to find James and my brother. They were supposed to be together but neither was where they said they would be. When you have these two back at camp can you collect Stuart too?" He looked at Ken and Colin struggling on the ground and said, "Don't expect to be rescued - your mates will heed my advice and keep well clear of our stronghold for the time being. You will be well guarded anyway, but all being well we will have some more company for you shortly!"
All was blindingly clear and James's suspicions were fully confirmed - Chris had been in league with Mike's team from the beginning and would betray us all if he had the chance. What had happened to filial devotion? I already knew the answer to this one - Chris would delight in capturing me even more than my mates! I would have to try to warn them immediately and then launch an attack on their base with the aim of rescuing Ken and Colin (and Stuart).
Meanwhile, Andrew had released Colin from his hog-tie, while he told him that he would be escorted back to their base and not to make any trouble. He began to untie his ankles and I decided the time had come to move out. This I did silently but as I moved away I carelessly trod on a dry branch which cracked like a rifle shot. I dived for cover pulling out my water pistol which was tucked into the top of my shorts as I did so. I heard someone trampling through the bushes and whipped round, but too late. A body dropped down on top of me none too gently, pushed me over onto my stomach, pinned me down with a knee in the small of my back and twisted my right arm up painfully behind my back. I let out a yelp of pain and a hand clamped tightly over my mouth. "Aha, a spy! You really should be more careful, little brother," a voice said cheerfully. "I guess you have worked out what is going on! Lie quite still and don't struggle and I will ease your arm a little." I complied with my captor's request and the pressure on my arm eased. "Now, stand up slowly and walk into the clearing." I felt his knee removed from my back and had no option but to do as I was told as he pulled my arm upwards, all the while keeping his hand tight over my mouth. In this undignified way I was brought the few yards into the clearing in front of our own tents. Then I was forced down onto my stomach again...
Richard
UK
Monday, November 12th 2001 - 12:03:26 AM
The Last War of Summer - Part 3
Colin and Ken had watched me being dragged into the clearing wide eyed. While Chris pinned me to the ground with his knee once more, all the while keeping his hand clamped over my mouth, Andrew stepped over, pulled a length of rope from my pocket and crossing my wrists tied my hands tightly behind my back. As he finished and released my hands from his grip I caught a movement out of the corner of my eye. Though with his hands still tied behind his back and securely gagged Colin had seen a chance for escape with everyone's attention focused on me and made a bolt for freedom. Alas, while brave it was a forlorn hope - in a moment Mark was after him and grabbing at one of his ankles he fell full length on what was fortunately fairly soft sand. With the wind knocked out of him he lay still as his ankles were re-tied.
After this diversion everyone's attention was once more on me. Andrew pulled out the only cloth in my pocket and said to Chris, "Have you another one? I doubt this will be sufficient to keep Richard quiet!"
For a moment Chris was nonplussed. "No, I used mine on Stuart". After a pause he said "no matter, find me a short branch, about 12 inches long and say 1 inch in diameter." Andrew immediately disappeared and I was left worrying as to what Chris had in mind. The former returned in a few minutes. "That's fine" said Chris, "Now trim off the bark with your knife and I'll complete this one's gag!" After a few minutes he seemed satisfied with Andrew's workmanship. The stick was now well trimmed, free of bark and relatively smooth. "Right, fold the cloth into a pad and wrap it around the wood" my brother instructed. Andrew complied and handed it to Chris, all the while looking mystified. The latter triumphantly placed it across my mouth and ordered me to open up. Suddenly, I realised what he had in mind and began struggling furiously. "Hold him!" Chris ordered and Andrew seized my nose between finger and thumb. Unable to shake him off I nevertheless clamped my jaws tight shut as I writhed around on the ground trying to avoid my persecutors. They both knew however that this could not last - finally in desperation I opened my mouth to take in a deep breath and Chris forced the padded stick between my teeth. "OK, I've got it! Get some cord and tie it in place". I felt Andrew's hands looping rope around the wood and tying it tightly at the back of my head. The stick was pulled hard back into my mouth, forcing my teeth apart and leaving me incapable of any noise more than a faint mmmpppfh. "Sorry about that, Titch," said my brother. "We'll try to make you a little more comfortable when we have you back at base."
My mind was racing. It was quite clear from what I had overheard earlier that the opposition had at least one, probably two, people guarding their base (and us shortly). I knew that James would realise something was wrong soon (if he hadn't done so already) and the longer we could keep our three captors occupied, the better his chances of making contact with Robert, David and the others since there must be no more than five of the enemy in the field. Colin's abortive bid for freedom had helped and I decided I would resist being moved to their base no matter what the consequences.
I now lay bound on the ground (my ankles had been tied) but my thoughts were interrupted by the approach of Chris. "Time to move out, little brother" he laughed. Mark untied my feet and I was hauled upright by the other two boys. I immediately started to struggle furiously, lashing out in every direction with my feet, gratified by their groans as I made contact with their shins. I felt their grip on my shoulders loosen, shook myself free and dashed for the far side of the clearing. I was hampered by my bound hands bumping behind me and I wasn't at all clear what I would do in the most unlikely event of my escaping but all I could think of was to play for time. Not surprisingly I was pursued and brought down as Colin had been earlier. Mark sat on top of me but I continued to struggle and kick out. Suddenly I felt a firm grasp on my legs, which I knew to be Chris's and within moments rope was being wound around my ankles, cinched off tightly between them and securely knotted.
"That was a silly waste of time," said my brother, "particularly as you might have hurt someone. You are our prisoner and we need you to walk with us back to our base. Please co-operate or we will find some other way to deal with you." As a reply I struggled furiously in my bonds all the while shaking my head. Lashing out with my bound ankles I unexpectedly made contact with someone's shins and heard Chris grunt. Once more my legs were pinned down and my trainers and socks were pulled off. It was clear Chris was becoming exasperated but I had gone so far along this path I no longer cared and we were certainly winning time. As I continued my ferocious but futile struggles he called for Andrew's help and while Chris pinned me down, told him to untie my hands and retie them in front of me palm to palm. These instructions were efficiently carried out and then, with Andrew's help, Chris pulled my bound arms above my head. He then tied a second rope to the lashing on my wrists, pulled them with some force, back behind my head, forced my ankles up over my butt and tied the rope to them. The effect was a sort of hog-tie. "What now?" asked Mark. "We'll carry him, since he isn't prepared to walk" Chris replied. "Look in the tents and you should find a stave - fetch it!"
While Mark was busy, he turned his attention to my two compatriots who were looking wide-eyed at me and wondering what would happen next. "Can I assume you are both willing to co-operate now?" he asked. The two bound boys nodded vigorously. "Good, but to make sure you don't try to run off like Colin did earlier we will hobble your ankles. Don't worry, you will have no difficulty walking but running will be out of the question." He left Andrew to deal with my friends, untying their ankles and then retying them with a piece of rope approximately eighteen inches long, as Mark returned with the staff, an Ash pole six feet long and about 1½ inches in diameter. Chris rolled me over onto my side and said, "Are you going to be sensible and come quietly?" I had come too far now to give in - I shook my head and glared fiercely back over my gag. Reluctantly he shrugged his shoulders and told Mark to push the staff between my bound wrists, down behind my back and then between my ankles. Tied as I was, resistance was out of the question and his instructions were carried out within seconds. At last I realised that he intended to carry me suspended from the pole. I had experienced this on a couple of occasions before but then I had been carried "face up". Now I was to be carried face down, my hands behind my head, but being stubborn I wasn't going to give in now so I resigned myself to my fate certain that their progress would be much more difficult than if I agreed to walk. Colin and Ken were hauled to their feet by Andrew and remained standing, completely subdued. The rope connecting my hands and feet was removed but I was prevented from bringing my hands in front of me or straightening my legs by the staff holding them behind me.
At a signal from Chris, he and Mark slowly lifted the pole, I felt my weight gradually taken by the lashings on my wrists and ankles and I suddenly found myself in mid air, swinging gently from the staff, my head hanging down between my bound arms. Andrew prodded his prisoners who moved out without any resistance, followed by my bearers and me.
Our captors made no effort to use any cover on their trek and it was therefore accomplished without incident in a little over five minutes. As we were marched into the clearing outside Mike's patrol hut we were met by Simon and Graham (two irregular players, both 14) who were clearly to be our guards. I was lowered to the ground and lay quite still while Colin and Ken were made to sit and their ankles were retied. The pole was withdrawn, my hands were untied, pulled behind my back, and my wrists crossed and once again I found myself trussed like my two friends. "Fetch some water" Chris instructed one of the other boys, and while he was gone he removed our gags. "You all must be thirsty," he said. He looked at me and added "We will leave your mouths free until you have had a drink. How are you feeling, not too sore Titch?"
"Oh, I'm fine," I grinned. "You had to do what you had to do, and so did I". He left us sitting together while the others withdrew into a huddle on the far side of the clearing. I guessed they were discussing their tactics. We at least had a few moments to discuss our predicament.
Colin and Ken were desperate to enquire after me but I assured them all was well - my arms and legs just ached a little. "Why did you not just agree to walk here?" they both asked. I explained that James and I had realised something was wrong, that I had come to warn them too late, arriving just before my brother appeared. Chris knew the initial hiding places of all our team (we had forgotten for the moment that poor Stuart was also being held captive somewhere) and that by delaying him for as long as possible James would have a better chance of getting them out of danger. Dusk was beginning to fall and we had an advantage over my brother in that we knew these woods much better than he did. They agreed my plan had probably succeeded but were concerned at the cost to me. I reassured them that I was fine although my wrists were a little sore, not helped by being once more tightly bound behind my back. In this they assured me I wasn't alone!
Simon returned with water bottles and our captors approached us in a group, although I noticed Andrew slip quietly away. We drank greedily as the bottles were held to our lips. As we were all finished the bushes opposite parted and Andrew returned, pushing Stuart before him. As the latter staggered into the clearing I was shocked by the change wrought in my pal. He was of course tightly gagged and in addition to his hands being tied behind his back his arms had also been pulled behind him and bound so that his elbows were touching (fortunately Stuart was, like me, both slim and very flexible). Stuart was fair haired and very particular about his appearance, always seeming to be immaculate even when dressed in nothing but shorts and tee shirt. He was one of the few to have arrived today in a white shirt but now this latter garment was missing and he was clothed simply in his blue shorts. When he had been left hidden and tied up earlier he had obviously used considerable exertion to free him self (a futile effort in view of his bound arms). His fair hair, normally immaculately groomed was now lank with sweat and filthy with the dirt and sand it had attracted. His chest and face were similarly caked with grime and the sweat still glistened on his ribs. He was now unbelievably dishevelled and dirty and looked the epitome of a kidnap victim! As he was forced face down onto the ground he shot his captor an angry look - he obviously was aware of Chris's treachery. After a few moments his elbows were freed, his ankles were tied and he was allowed to sit with the rest of us while he drank gratefully from the proffered bottle...
Richard
UK
Monday, November 12th 2001 - 12:06:11 AM
The Last War of Summer - Part 4
"We need to truss these brutes up again," said Chris, taking Charge once more. "We are going to be short of rope if we are not careful. I suggest we tie Ken and Stuart to a couple of trees since they behaved themselves and it will only require one length each. Perhaps we can think of something a little more original for these two" -pointing to me and Colin - "They both need to be taught that trying to escape doesn't pay!"
Our captors now replaced our gags taking extreme care to see that this was done effectively. Chris dealt with mine and as he stepped behind me he asked me how I felt. "I'm fine, really" I said. "I had my reasons for resisting you, so there is no need to worry about me or feel guilty."
"That's a relief, Titch" he responded, ruffling his fingers through my hair. I had always hated this (which simply encouraged him to do it more often) and he laughed when I struggled ineffectually to avoid his fingers. "Are you going to open wide for me this time or do I have to do it the hard way again?" I had hoped that Chris's improvised piece of wood might be replaced with a more conventional cloth gag but no such luck. However I knew that resistance was a waste of time so I obligingly stretched my jaws wide for him while he positioned the padded stick between my teeth before tying it securely in position. As he finished knotting the cord he said "I'm sorry I can't make you a little more comfortable but if we catch many more of you we will have nothing left to gag them with!"
Ken and Stuart's feet were now freed and they were both dragged towards a couple of trees by two boys apiece. In one swift movement their hands were untied, they were forced back against the trunk, their arms were seized and pulled behind the trees, their wrists were crossed and tightly lashed leaving them no movement what so ever. With the rope knotted off well out of reach of their fingers (and with virtually no movement anyway) their chances of getting free were nil. After briefly writhing to test their bonds they accepted their fate and remained still.
Colin and I were still lying on the ground, our hands tied behind our backs and our legs bound at our ankles. We didn't have to wait long to discover our fate. Our captors rolled us on to our stomachs, removed some of the turns of rope from the lashing at our feet and knotted it off again. They now had a spare length of cord and forcing our feet up towards our butts made it fast to our wrists, once again leaving us both tightly hog-tied. As usual great care was taken to ensure that no knots were within reach of our fingers and I groaned inwardly - we were here until we were rescued or time was called! We were then rolled onto our sides facing one another after which they stood back to admire their handiwork. Well satisfied, Chris led "his" troops away leaving Simon and Mark to guard us. They moved silently to the other side of the clearing and merged side by side into the bushes where I could just make them out keeping close watch and talking quietly.
I desperately wanted to know what was happening with the rest of our team and felt frustrated by my immobility. I peered at Colin laying still and silent in front of me. Our adversaries had done their work well - movement was impossible and our gags had been replaced so efficiently that the only sound I could make was a muffled mmmpppfh, which I doubted even Colin could hear. Powerless to do anything more, I relaxed and let my head fall back on the ground.
Time passed and I lay there uncomfortably while my arms and legs began to ache again when suddenly I noticed a movement behind our guards. Without apparently showing any interest I slowly raised my head as if adjusting my position. Sure enough I could see the outline of a figure standing almost hidden by the foliage behind our two crouching guards. From my position of helplessness I watched the figure silently raise a water pistol at the same time becoming aware that Colin was watching me curiously; as he was lying on his side facing me he could not see the unfolding drama. I saw the spurts of water and saw Mark and Simon spring up and spin around as they felt the wet patches spreading on their tee shirts. Robert stepped forward ordering them to stand still and raise their hands.
Under our rules they were Robert's prisoners and they both reluctantly obeyed. He ushered them into the clearing taking in our predicament with a sweeping glance. Ignoring us for the time being he ordered Simon to lay down with his hands behind his back. I was intrigued as he passed a length of rope to Mark and ordered him to tie his friend's hands. "And make a good job of it," he warned. "I shall check and it will be worse for you if you don't." Mark knelt beside his buddy while Simon turned his head and looked pleadingly into his eyes. His appeal was wasted - Mark looked at Robert covering both boys with his pistol, realised there was no escape and quickly and efficiently tied his friends hands securely behind his back. Simon subsided on the ground defeated while Mark was ordered down beside the bound boy. Robert stepped forward and pulling Mark's arms behind him, crossed his wrists and lashed them tightly. Stepping across to Simon he undid Mark's knots tugged hard on the loops of cord around the boy's wrists extracting a yelp from his prisoner and retied the lashing securely making sure the knots could not be reached. At leisure now he drew out more rope and tied the two boy's ankles together, and quickly gagged them.
With his prisoners secured he turned his attention to us. He approached me first but as he knelt down I shook my head violently trying desperately to point at Ken and Stuart. Almost immediately he grasped my meaning - only their wrists were tied and consequently they could be liberated quickly and then assist in liberating us. This was soon accomplished and shortly, Stuart was crouching over me, untying the rope between wrists and ankles. I stretched out luxuriously as Stuart completed untying my feet even though my hands were still bound, and when my gag was taken off I breathed a sigh of relief. Next to me Colin was also revelling in his newly gained freedom. There was no sign of poor Stuart's tee shirt so he was condemned to going shirtless for the rest of the afternoon. I at least faired a little better - my captors had brought my trainers with them when I was carried here having first been taken prisoner. I quickly recovered them and put them on...
Richard
UK
Tuesday, November 13th 2001 - 12:08:10 AM
The Last War of Summer - Part 5
We all began at once to clamour for explanations but Robert held up his hand to silence us. "No time for chatter now. We must get away from here with these two before someone else returns. We'll go to the "foxhole". Blindfold these two and get a move on".
The "foxhole" was our pride and joy. A narrow ditch led beneath dense shrubbery where it broadened out into a wide pit approximately four feet deep. James and I had discovered it before the summer vacation began and we only revealed it to Robert and his brother David. The pit was completely invisible from beyond the dense bushes and the ditch, itself well concealed, was the only entrance. During the past two months we had further improved it by covering part with discarded corrugated iron. It lay just beyond our own camp but would be much safer than our base now. Clearly our secret would be out after today but I realised the blindfolds would be a worthwhile safeguard for now and we applied ourselves enthusiastically to the task. On completion we were certain our prisoners could see nothing.
I took control now and knelt by our prisoners. "It's your turn to go for a walk now. We have no intention of letting you see where we are going. We will guide you carefully provided you give us no trouble but if you don't co-operate we will have to be less gentle with you!" I added sinisterly. The two bound figures nodded their agreement. They had both seen my treatment at the hands of my captors and had no reason to believe I might be less ingenious. They also had every reason to believe (mistakenly) that I might bear a grudge. Mark's ankles were freed, he was helped to his feet and led away by Robert and Colin carefully making use of every bit of available cover. Once they were clear Stuart did the same with Simon. Once on his feet we each grasped one of his arms and lead him away carefully under my directions.
Ten minutes later we reached the entrance "tunnel". I pointed it out silently to Stuart who climbed in first. Then we pushed Simon to his knees and made him shuffle forward (not easy with his hands tied behind his back) until we reached the safety of our "den". Stuart gasped with admiration - we were completely hidden from outside - but he didn't forget our captive. He pushed Simon down on his face and within a few moments the boy's ankles had been tied again. Now we rolled him over, sat him up and propped him against one of the dirt walls of the pit. Within a few moments we heard scrabbling from outside and expected Robert to appear with Colin and Mark. Instead we were surprised to see David's grinning face appear. "Matthew is outside with more company," he grinned. Before we could answer, there was more scrabbling and two more gagged and blindfolded figures were dragged into the lair, their hands tied behind them. Like Stuart they were both shirtless and these had been rolled up and used to gag the boys. Like Chris earlier, we were beginning to run out of material for gags and the tee shirts made an excellent alternative. The new arrivals had their ankles bound and were sat next to Simon just as a further disturbance outside announced the arrival of Robert and Colin. With Mark trussed and placed next to the others I turned to wondering who David had brought us, the gathering gloom making identification impossible earlier. We kept a torch in the den and I shone it quickly in the faces of the two strangers. One was Geoff, one of our occasional "guest players" but I was staggered when I shone the light on the second face and realised it was Peter, Mike's "right hand man"!
Despite his rough treatment earlier Stuart was essentially a gentle and considerate boy. He felt we should provide the prisoners with water as they had done with us. Water bottles were produced and our captives were ungagged one by one to enable them to drink and then regagged. At the same time we decided to deal with Simon and Mark in the same way as the other two. While their gags were off, one by one they were pushed forward, their hands untied and their shirts pulled off. Mark must have thought he was about to be tickle tortured and began to remonstrate but was silenced by David with a hand over his mouth. I took great delight in retying their hands behind them, taking considerable care with the lashings and when I had finished their shirts were rolled up, forced between their teeth and tied off at the back of their necks. We heard Mark breath a sigh of relief and we all giggled.
David now recounted how James had come out of hiding when I failed to return, tracked him down along with Matthew and explained how we suspected Chris of treachery (we were now able to confirm the full extent of this). They had found Robert who offered to reconnoitre the enemy base and was thus able to rescue the three of us. Meanwhile, Peter and Geoff had blundered into them and outgunned, had been taken prisoner. David had realised the risks involved in keeping our prisoners at our "compromised" base and suggested our present alternative. It was agreed that all prisoners should be blindfolded - our secret would be out when the game was over but they wanted to keep it until then. James remained in the field to search for Paul (Matthew's younger brother) while David and Matthew brought their prisoners in.
Stuart briefly explained how he had been caught by Chris who approached as a friend and then "shot" him. When he was made to remove his shirt he thought he was going to be tortured for information but Chris seemed to change his mind, leaving him shirtless but tightly trussed, gagged and hidden until he was brought in by Andrew. Colin and Ken described how they had been surprised by Mark and Andrew and overpowered. Then they described Chris's arrival and my capture and somewhat to my embarrassment gave a graphic description of the fight I put up with my brother and the way he dealt with me. Their audience listened in awed silence as they told how I had been carried on the pole all the way to the enemy base following my refusal to walk there.
We now turned to discussing what action we should take. Time had been passing, it was now 7.00pm and the time limit was 8.30. We had four prisoners (including Peter - a valuable captive) but had no news of James and Paul, our only team members currently in the field. We decided to send out two scouts, first to check on the enemy base and then to try to find James and Paul. Only the former knew the whereabouts of this hideout but with time now at a premium we were certain the opposition would go to any lengths to extract information if our gallant friends were caught. I volunteered immediately and so did Matthew, anxious for his younger brother. David warned me, in particular, to take care. He was sure that Chris would be far harder on me than any of the others if I was re-captured and we all knew he would be particularly cross at our escape. We would return in half an hour to report...
Richard
UK
Tuesday, November 13th 2001 - 12:10:14 AM
The Last War of Summer - Part 6
Matthew crept up the ditch to the exit, carefully looked all round and climbed out to the cover of the bushes. I joined him a few moments later. Together we cautiously made our silent way towards the enemy camp. As we drew near we could hear voices and other, muffled sounds. We looked at one another in the gathering darkness, mystified and unable to explain what we could hear. Matthew shrugged and crept forward again. At last we reached the edge of the clearing and immediately understood.
The scene was lit with an oil lamp and in the clearing were Mike, John and my brother. What shocked us was the fourth member of this little tableau. Matthew's brother, Paul was lying on the ground, each of his wrists and ankles tightly lashed to the stakes to which I had been bound briefly earlier that day. Although a little older than me Paul was if anything slightly shorter and consequently his limbs were stretched unbelievably taut. His shoes, socks and shirt had been removed so he was only clad in his blue gym shorts. Mike was kneeling beside the prisoner assaulting his bare ribs with his fingertips. Paul was writhing around trying to escape the tickling but staked out as he was it was impossible. The sound we had heard was the strange gurgling noise produced by his giggles - he was very securely gagged. He was bathed in sweat and his face was filthy, the dirt streaked with the tears which were running down his face.
Matthew made to run forward (he was very protective of his younger brother) but I held him back. "Don't be foolish - you will get us both caught!" I hissed, and he subsided just as Mike finished his assault. Paul, whose back had been arched under the fierce attack relaxed and let out a deep sigh as he lay still. Mike lifted the prisoner's head quite gently and untying the knotted cloth, pulled out the gag. John knelt beside our buddy and held up a water bottle and the bound boy drank deeply. When he had finished Mike allowed his head to fall back, stood up and looking down at the captive said "We can put a stop to this immediately - just tell us what we want to know and we will truss you up nice and comfy and leave you alone".
"I told you already, I don't know where any of them are. I haven't seen a soul since late afternoon Please don't tickle_" Before he had finished pleading Mike had nodded to Chris who leant down and deftly inserted the wad back in Paul's mouth leaving him mmmpppfhing in vain. The second cloth was pushed between his teeth, Mike raised his head and once more the gag was knotted tightly in place. We saw Paul stiffen and his back arched in anticipation. He was giggling before Mike so much as touched his taut skin! For five minutes the tickling continued and Paul writhed, sweated and giggled into his gag as tears streamed down his face. At last it ended and the poor boy relaxed again in his bonds. Once more Mike took off his gag but before he could ask a question Paul pleaded "Please, please stop. I can't tell you what I don't know!"
As this last scene unfolded Matthew, full of indignation whispered that we must do something and we decided to storm in with our pistols "blazing". As Paul stopped his pleading we charged out into the open and were rewarded, first by a look of open mouthed surprise on the faces of our three adversaries and second by the satisfying sight of wet patches spreading on three shirts. John and Mike turned to face us, accepting defeat but Chris charged out of the clearing and made good his escape (not strictly according to the rules but we had two more prisoners). They were made to lie down and I covered them as Matthew crossed John's wrists behind his back and lashed them together tightly. The yelp the prisoner emitted as he cinched it off suggested he was not being too gentle. He now turned his attention to Mike, tying his hands palm to palm before taking a second length of rope and binding his elbows. Mike was less supple than some of us younger members of the troop and I guessed Matthew's efforts were causing him some discomfort but I chose not to intervene - he was after all only delivering the pay off for the assault on his brother.
With the prisoners hands secured Matthew got on with gagging them while I turned my attention to Paul. He was still lying tightly bound to his stakes and had watched wide eyed as we launched our rescue. Despite his mouth being free he had said not a word throughout, patiently waiting for us to finish securing the captives before releasing him. Free at last he rubbed his wrists and ankles briefly and pulled his trainers on, however there was no sign of his tee shirt and he was forced to remain shirtless like Stuart. Then at last he spoke "We must get away from here quickly - I don't want to be captured by Chris again!" Neither did I! We decided to take these two new prisoners back to our tents and secure them their (the den would be getting crowded and there was a risk of being spotted trying to get two more bound boys into hiding).
Mike and John were helped up and they did not resist as we lead them quickly away. We left their eyes free since they were not being taken to our foxhole. Arrived at our camp, we quickly pushed our captives into a tent bound their ankles and completed a tight hog-tie. Matthew decided against freeing Mike's elbows - he was still sore at Paul's treatment although our rules of engagement were quite clear regarding "tickle torture" and we all accepted this including Paul!
We now crept out and rejoined the others in the hideout taking extreme care to ensure we were not observed. Paul had not seen it before and was amazed on entering. It was illuminated with torchlight but no sign was evident from outside. The four prisoners were still sitting dejectedly with their backs to the dirt wall, their tightly bound hands uncomfortably behind them and their legs, bound at the ankles hunched up. Robert was in the process of giving them a further drink and consequently Mark and Simon were not gagged. The former was pleading to have their blindfolds removed but this was strenuously refused. The gags were soon replaced and our prisoners silenced once more.
We gave a brief report on what had taken place and described how Chris had escaped. Our pals were jubilant when they heard that we now had Mike and John bound in one of our tents making a total of six prisoners. Three of the opposition were still at large in addition, of course, to my treacherous brother, and only James was unaccounted for from our side although we had every reason to believe he had still been free when we rescued Paul.
We were within half an hour of the time limit and on the basis of the number of prisoners held we would be the clear winners and under our "rules of engagement" those boys held captive by the winning team at the conclusion were liable to remain as our prisoners. It had been decided earlier in the day that any such unfortunates might be held overnight. Only John and Geoff were subject to a parental curfew (they were not camping over the weekend) and would have to be given up. I had been considering what we would do at the end and I now told my buddies I had some proposals to make. I first pointed out the treacherous behaviour of my brother and reminded them how Paul had been tortured without mercy. Ken butted in to remind them of the treatment meted out to me earlier and we received nods of assent from our mates. My suggestion was that we should first secure all our prisoners in our camp, leaving them under a light guard (say two boys). The rest of us should then proceed to the enemy base under a flag of truce. It was possible that they had by now captured James but if not they would have no bargaining power at all. We should then offer to free all our hostages in exchange for Chris taking their places. If they were holding James he would be released automatically under our "rules". They would probably want proof that we were holding their six compatriots - we would bring them to our base still under the flag of truce and show them our prisoners. None of the enemy would see our den...
Richard
UK