LOOKING AFTER LUKE
Scott was getting fed up with having to stay in to look after Luke whenever he had been grounded. Every time he got into trouble at school, his parents grounded him and, having to work at the weekend, Scott was left on guard. His social life was almost non-existent and “Charlie”, his girlfriend was getting really pissed off.
Scott thought he would try reasoning with his little brother, “Look, Shithead, I want my weekends with Charlie back. The next time I loose a Saturday to babysit you, I’m going to tie you up and dump you somewhere to keep you out of my hair. Got it?” So saying he took his hand off Luke’s throat and let him slide down the wall and put his feet back on the ground.
It didn’t take Luke long to think of a way of getting a detention about which his parents would have to be told. By Thursday, Scott had received the news about what he was doing not just on Saturday but Sunday too. The language he used to his dad earned him a further grounding for the next weekend.
Eddie & Zara, the boys’ parents needed to work more or less full time getting a new business up and running. They were usually more that happy to have the boys away from home on Scouting activities or on expeditions but they loved their sons and wanted them to learn to behave. Both boys were hyperactive and hence both found it easy to get into trouble.
At seven o’clock on Saturday morning, Zara called upstairs that they were going and reminded Scott that he had to supervise Luke and ensure that he completed ALL the homework that he owed. They would be away overnight but she’d left enough microwaveable food and would ring every so often to make sue that things were OK. “Making sure we’re still in, more like.” thought Scott.
Scott prepared some equipment before going into his sleeping brother’s bedroom. Luke always needed a stick of dynamite up his arse before he woke up.
“Mornin’, Shithead”, said Scott as he straddled his little brother in his bed and poured a large jug of cold water over his head knowing that there would be plenty of time over the weekend to dry out the bedding. OK, so Luke wanted to be tied up but he wasn’t expecting that!
While he wished his big brother compliments of the season, Scott managed to force the prepared gag into his mouth. “T, t, t, t, naughty! Hope you like oranges, the sock’s one of yours.” Scott had found a fairly small orange and encased it in one of the football socks that Luke had worn home on Friday and left on his bedroom floor. As he held it in place, Scott reminded his brother that he was only wearing pyjama trousers and that they could easily be removed unless he co-operated. Let’s face it, Luke was only going to struggle for the sake of form in any case but he’d have to play the game carefully so that Scott wouldn’t catch on.
Luke allowed Scott to tie the sock behind his neck. That was tight! The other sock was then tied round Luke’s eyes. Luke was a bit disappointed because he could still just about see under the sock as long as he held his head back. He needn’t have worried because Scott found Luke’s small pe bag on the floor. It was the draw-string type and just about the right size to slip over Luke’s head and fasten the draw string fairly tightly around his neck.
Scott got off his brother and pulled off his duvet. Luke’s hands flew straight to his crutch for some reason! “You know I said I’d let you keep your pyjamas?” asked Scott undoing the draw-string, “I lied!” and he pulled the pj bottoms off over Luke’s feet as he tried to defend his somewhat expanded “modesty” with his hands. Scott ignored his plight and carried on.
“You’ve got a choice now: stay naked or put these on.” So saying Scott draped a pair of Speedos over the back of Luke’s hands. “I’ll help.” Luke figured out what sort of garment it was but what he didn’t know was that Scott had found the white pair that he hadn’t worn for nearly a year because they had become too tight (and besides, “big boys don’t wear Speedos”). Luke immediately started telling his brother how much he loved him. “What was that? You’d prefer to be naked? OK, then.”
With a sag of the shoulders, Luke shook his head. “Say please.”
“Ngeee”
“Say, please master”
“Ngee ngaaah.” The fact that Luke was, in fact, saying, “Queer bastard.” gave him a certain satisfaction.
“Good boy.” and Scott gave him a few little slaps on the belly. “Sit up and swing your legs over the edge of the bed.” Luke turned so that his legs hung down and, with some help form his brother, he sat up. Scott fitted the briefs over Luke’s ankles and told him to stand up and finish the job. When Luke realised how tight they were and how much difficulty he was having fitting himself into them, he tried to tell his brother that he was not best impressed. “What was that? You’d prefer to be naked after all?”
“Ugh ugh.” said Luke shaking his head. So Scott tied the draw cord tightly. If only Luke was wearing trousers, he would have had a VPL that any Essex Girl would be proud of.
“Turn around.” Luke did so and, perhaps too willingly, crossed his wrists behind his back. I don’t know what videos Scott had been watching but I can give it a good guess. He doubled a rope, fed the free ends through the bite, pulled it tight around Luke’s wrists and looped it vertically round three times, adjusting tension as he went. Another loop followed around the right wrist, one more round both wrists and one round the left wrist. The rope was then tied off following a further turn around both wrists.
Scott was feeling unreasonably satisfied with his efforts so far but he realised that his brother could still move his arms. What a good job there was still a lot of rope left. He fed the free ends under Luke’s armpits and knotted them (reef knot, if you’re interested) behind his neck after having pulled his wrists quite a lot higher up his back. Luke was now starting to wonder if he’d made a good life-choice especially when Scott fidgeted with the ropes at his neck to adjust the position of his wrists.
Two simple knots secured the rope behind Luke’s neck before the free ends were brought back down to his wrists, looped around them and tied off before being returned to the knot behind his neck for a final knotting.
Scott looked at his brother, to whom he had decided to refer as “Turkey” from then on, (I’m sure you can figure out that reference for yourselves.) a name that might rebound on Luke later. Should he finish off the intended roping on his arms? Had he done enough? Had he just wasted his time? No Yea & Nah!
“I’ll check on you every so often and, if you’re good, I’ll feed and water you regularly. If not, I’ve got a lot of ropes I want to use. Very soon Charlie’s coming round and, if she even suspects you’re at home . . .”
Scott took his scantily clad brother out to the shed at the bottom of the garden and tied his ankles together. Taking a chain he then looped it round the ropes holding Luke’s ankles and padlocked the ends to their dad’s woodwork vice. All the while it was attached to a heavy work-bench, Luke was not going very far especially as his feet were about 30 cm off the ground. That left him plenty of scope to wriggle but very little chance of escape.
“Remember: if Charlie even suspects . . . Or should I show you to her in your nice little Speedos? They don’t hide much do they?” This was NOT what Luke wanted to happen in a big way!
Scott just about had time to finish dealing with Luke and make himself “presentable” (in other words, to put on some rather too tight lightweight trousers and a muscle cut t-shirt) to his visitor. He knew she could not stay long because her parents were taking her to visit her gran and she had to stay overnight. He was hoping to make the best of things. Normally she would tie him up and play with him. She might even gag him but not usually before a considerable round of determined kissing and mutual groping. What kind of mood would she be in this morning?
Charlie arrived in her usual rather tom-boyish clothes; a small, long-haired bundle of bossy determination with a radiant smile. She wasted no time wrapping herself joyfully round Scott. After they had settled on the sofa and, every time they came up for air, said how much they had missed one another (since yesterday at school!) and how much they loved one another, yes Scott was quite good at that sort of thing, Charlie got down to business.
She said that her parents would collect her at half past ten so that she could change into what her mother described as “proper clothes” before taking her to her gran’s. “Don’t worry, you know mum, she’ll ring before she leaves home. That gives us a good ten minutes’ warning.”
“Right, get your t-shirt off, I want to see your muscles.”
Scott dutifully did as he was told. He knew what was coming next and handed Charlie the rope he’d had ready and knelt down with his back to her. She was remarkably good with knots, being a member of the local Scouts, and soon had Scott’s wrists snugly bound behind his back.
Scott rose from his knees and the couple settled back on the sofa. Scott loved this as his girlfriend continued to fondle his nipples, his belly and his thighs and, if he was lucky, other parts as well. They continued talking while Charlie bestowed the occasional kiss on Scott’s head and torso.
After a pleasant stretch of time Charlie announced that, because she had not “seen” him properly over the past few weekends, she had a lot to say and that he would have to listen. She sat on his lap facing him and they indulged in one long, last mutual kiss. Scott was in ecstasy.
“Love you.”
“Love you.”
Scott had already prepared the gag he wanted to wear and told Charlie that it was beside the sofa where she found a lemon knotted into a woman’s stocking. She gave Scott one of her questioning looks and Scott blushed and shrugged his shoulders.
Scott could never figure out how Charlie could talk non-stop for an hour while he sat unable to say anything. But she was now making a very good attempt to do so while she sat on his lap facing him. She didn’t ignore his body completely but continued manipulating his nipples while she spoke and kissing him between sentences. Scott was bursting but Charlie continued relentlessly until her phone rang.
“Sorry, lover, got to go.” said Charlie upon closing her phone. She kissed Scott on the forehead, dismounted and, gathering her bag, said “I’ll wait outside for mum. She won’t be long.”
“Nggggh!” shouted Scott frantically as he thought he was going to be left bound and gagged to make his own salvation. By the time he had stood up Charlie was nearly out of the front door. “Ngggh!” screamed Scott again just before Charlie turned around to face him.
“Oh, silly me.” said Charlie almost managing to sound sincere. “Say please.”
Once Scott was free again, there was time for one farewell kiss before Charlie’s mum’s car pulled up.
“Love you.”
“Love you.”
Scott, who had replaced his t-shirt, walked Charlie to the gate. Charlie headed grudgingly towards her mother’s car and got in while the two youngsters waved to one another until the car turned a corner.
Scott thought he’d better go and change his underpants before going to deal with Luke.
After changing his underwear Scott put a frozen pizza in the microwave and got himself a coke from the fridge. He was in no hurry to rescue his little brother. While he was waiting he cleaned two of the dog’s bowls (His parents had taken Flynn with them) and filled a jug with water. He took various things to the shed in shifts, first of all the, now hot and fragrant pizza and a knife which he set down on the bench where Luke could smell the tantalising aromas. The poor kid had had no breakfast and, other than what entered his mouth during his early morning ducking, nothing to drink since last night.
The next load consisted of the water jug, dog bowls and a loo roll.
Scott had planned carefully; he’d even prepared the porta-potty that the family used on camping trips and placed it at the far end of the work-bench from the door.
Having brought the pizza into the shed, Scott took a kitchen stool which he had pre-positioned, sat on it and started to eat his lunch with a relish that he attempted to convey to his ravenous little brother. The sound of a coke can being opened did nothing to ameliorate Luke’s situation.
By now not only was he starving and parched but even a sound associated with liquid made him try to scrunch up his body about his midriff in an attempt to avoid wetting himself. That’s probably why Scott deliberately poured the drink into a glass!
“Oh sorry, I forgot all about you there. I’ll tell you what, do you need the loo?”
“Ennngh”, confirmed Luke nodding frantically. He didn’t know about the arrangements his brother had so thoughtfully made for him.
Scott explained the rules. “I’ll release you from the vice and take you to the porta-potty which I’ve set up next to the bench.” Luke’s head jerked in an alarmed way. He thought he’d get to use a “proper toilet” in some privacy. “Then I’ll untie your wrists and give you a bog-roll. Any attempt to free your ankles or remove your hood, then no breakfast, no drinkies and hog-tied for hours.” Luke had to weigh up this “offer” carefully; the hog-tie was enticing but, on balance, he needed to relieve himself immediately and the need to eat and drink was also looming large in his necessities. “Understand, Turkey?”
Even having been addressed as Turkey, Luke knew when he was beaten and nodded.
Good as his word, Scott released Luke’s feet from the vice and bunny-hopped him over to the plastic monstrosity, took some time untying his arms, during which Luke’s fidgeting became more and more desperate, and told him to drop his Speedos. Luke did so as quickly as possible. Scott gave him the toilet roll, turned him round and parked him on the camping loo.
Even Scott wasn’t as cruel as his brother would have his friends believe and he left Luke to do his business in privacy for a few minutes. It was almost like a trip back to infancy for Luke when, without thinking, he called out, “I’ve finished.” at the end of proceedings, not that Scott could understand him. It didn’t even strike either of the brothers as unusual until much later.
Scott re-entered the shed and found his brother standing with the horrible little Speedos back in place and offering his wrists to be tied in front of him.
“In your dreams, Turkey, turn round.” Scott couldn’t see the smirk that should have been on Luke’s face as a result, mainly because his brother was hooded but also smirking with your mouth full of citrus fruit is very awkward. Luke turned round with a series of small bunny-hops and surrendered his wrists.
Scott used a short rope to draw Luke’s elbows very close together behind him, there was no point doing anything elaborate because he would need either releasing or re-tying very soon. Luke felt the pe bag being untied and removed from over his head and the sock pulled from round his eyes.
“It’s breakfast time; I’ve saved you some pizza.” said Scott pointing to the dog bowl on the floor. He had cut up two sectors into bite-size chunks, piled them in the bowl and written “Turkey’s Doggy Bowl” on the side in marker pen. It was no use Luke looking at his brother like that; looks don’t actually kill. “OK, on your knees and I’ll pull your gag out.” offered Scott as he helped his prisoner to kneel down.
Luke looked up and Scott explained more rules. Once I’ve removed your gag, you will only eat and drink. Any speaking and this is going in and you’ll get nothing else until this evening. Got it?” Luke nodded especially when he saw what Scott meant by “this”, the stocking with a lemon in it that was much larger than the little orange that he had only just had removed and he also had a shrewd idea why the item was so soggy.
Luke went straight to the bowl of water and tried to suck it up but had difficulty not getting it up his nose as well. He badly needed a better drink than he was managing to get and decided that the only way he was going to get it was by begging. He looked up at Scott and asked, “Please may I have a straw?”
“You’ll need to be MUCH more polite than that. Please may I have a straw, what?
“Please may I have a straw, Sir?”
Not good enough. One more try, then it’s. . . “ said Scott picking up the lemon gag
Luke breathed in deeply. “Please may I have a straw, Master?”
Scott pushed his right foot towards Luke. The implication was clear. Luke was so desperate for water that he bowed forwards, kissed Scott’s foot and waited for permission to look up. He was used to this routine as a punishment for having wound his brother up many times in the past.
Scott quickly replaced the bag over Luke’s head, tied it in place and went into the kitchen in search of the drinking straws. Upon his return he removed the hood, showed Luke the two straws he had brought back and asked, “What do you say?”
“Thank you, Master.”
“Good boy, Turkey.” Scott placed the straws in Luke’s mouth and patted him on the head. Although Luke enjoyed being tied up, he often wished he was the older brother just occasionally to revenge himself for the humiliations that Scott usually piled up on him as well.
When it looked as though Luke had finished, Scott removed the straws and Luke struggled to eat his pizza, eventually succeeding in finishing all that he didn’t manage to spill onto the floor.
Scott then explained that their mum had told him to ensure that ALL Luke’s homework was to be completed. “That’s OK.” thought Luke, “That won’t take long.” Little did he know . . .
Scott lifted Luke onto the kitchen stool and tied his roped ankles to one of the legs above the cross-bar. He then used the chain: padlocked it tightly around the smaller boy’s waist, fed it down between his legs, wrapped it a couple of times round the same leg of the stool that Luke’s feet were tied to, fed it to the opposite leg and wound it round a few times before padlocking it to the back of the waist chain. That was probably not the most secure of chainings but it was impressive enough to make Luke feel like not falling off the stool or tipping it over. Scott then released his arms so that he could work.
Scott was intelligent and more than two years older than his brother. There was no way Luke was going to fool Scott over the homework. The first subject was Maths. After about fifteen minutes Luke had scribbled a diagram in biro in his book and added a few co-ordinates. He showed it to Scott and said that he supposed it was time for him to be tied up again. Scott was having none of it. He had decided that, if he had to be there, Luke was going to suffer in all ways possible. That included spending hours on his homework. He crossed out the “work” in his brother’s book saying that he’d get their mother to sign it off as her responsibility. He got a piece of graph paper and some felt tip pens and told Luke to do it again and GET IT RIGHT! With the last advice, Luke received the worst nipple cripples he had ever suffered.
After half an hour a very neat map of an imaginary island had been folded once and sellotaped neatly into his book; another 15 minutes resulted in a neat legend with the correct co-ordinates added.
”Good boy, well done, Turkey.” said Scott as if addressing a puppy and ruffling his brother’s hair, “If you’d got it right the first time, you would have been allowed some exercise but now you’ll have to take your break at your desk.” So saying Scott tied his brother’s arms behind his back again and forced the orange gag back into place.
Whenever Luke was bound, he felt calm because, having no responsibility for his own actions; he couldn’t get into trouble. Even the discomfort was usually worth tolerating; the humiliation however . . . He was looking forward to joining the Sea Scouts’ TUGs club but they wouldn’t take him ‘til next year. Vengeance would be Luke’s!
The next subject was English and Scott suggested that, if Luke didn’t make a good job of it, he’d put a collar and lead on him and “take him walkies” up and down the road where everyone would see him. Luke knew that, if that happened and somebody reported it to their mother, her attitude would be, “Oh, well as long as they’re not getting into trouble.” So no hope there then.
Scott got Luke’s English book and put it on the bench. Just before undoing his arms, Scott took Luke’s nipples in hand and reminded him what would happen if he made any attempt to remove his gag. After about 30 minutes Luke called his brother, as best he could, to see the result. Scott was sunbathing just outside the shed so he got up from his towel to inspect Luke’s effort. For Luke it was quite good but Scott said that it would do for a first draft and made him type it into his laptop to get the spelling checked. Luke was beginning to wonder when he would get the promised tie-ups; he didn’t count being tied to his stool.
The next call saw Scott getting up again and announcing that the next stage was for Luke to make a second draft in his book with the spelling corrected and the punctuation, that he had marked, put right. Luke considered giving up the will to live. It was only the thought of being made to go “walkies” that kept him going.
With the second draft completed, surely, Luke thought, there would be no more of this torture. Scott tied his brother’s elbows again and inspected the work. His statement that it would do as a second draft made Luke’s heart fall but at least it looked as if he might be tied up for a while.
“You’ve been a good boy, Turkey. Time for exercise.” Scott unchained his brother and untied his ankles leaving him gagged with his arms drawn tightly behind him. He was ordered out of the shed and told to start running laps round the clothes posts with the alternative being “walkies”. After an unsteady walk from the shed, Luke gradually loosened up and did what he was told.
After about 15 minutes Scott called him in.. “Are you’re going to tie me up properly now?” Well, that's what Luke tried to say but for some reason his brother didn't seem to understand him.
“Right Turkey, shut up; you’ve got work to do. On your stool.” Luke didn’t want to hear that and he needed Scott’s help to mount the stool. This time Scott allowed his brother to sit straight on the stool. He padlocked the chain round his left ankle and wrapped it a couple of times round one of the legs of the stool above the cross bar. Following a few turns round an adjacent leg, Scott then padlocked his right ankle into the chain. On the pretence of “making sure you don’t accidentally slip off” Scott tied a rope tightly round his brother’s waist, passed the free ends between his legs and under his bum and tied them off to a cross bar at the back of the stool.
With the promise that, if Luke wasn’t co-operative, the rope could be tightened, Scott pulled the gag out and offered him water. Luke drank and even managed to say, “Thank you, Master.” without prompting.
Luke was given the choice of having the gag replaced or promising to be quiet. After consideration, he chose to be quiet because he’d already been gagged for several hours and needed to rest his aching jaws. “Just to help you get it right,” said Scott, “If I have to gag you before you finish your English, you’ll have a couple of clothes pegs on your tits the next time you’re tied up. Let me demonstrate.” Saying which Scott helpfully demonstrated the pain that his brother would experience if he got it wrong.
“You can take them off once I’ve untied your arms. Then get your essay finished. Remember: spelling, punctuation, grammar. What do you say?”
“Yes, Master.”
“Good boy”. Scott then ruffled “Turkey’s” hair and released his arms. Luke wasted no time removing the pegs from his nipples and plucked up the courage to ask how he could improve the work.
“Better writing and no mistakes!”
Luke hated being made to re-do his work, it was wasting good “proper” tie-up time. He was determined to make this the final draft.
(In fact, Luke completed that work so well that his teacher wrote a complimentary note to his parents. It was the first time that had happened! The maths was also complimented and displayed in class.)
“I’ve finished.” called Luke, rather more distinctly than before. “Please don’t make me do it again, Master. Tie me up instead, please.”
Scott was starting to catch on.
“Hang on, you like being tied up, don’t you?” Luke hung his head and blushed uncontrollably. Scott was formulating a mutually beneficial plan.
“Hands behind your back.” Luke grinned. Scott tied his wrists in a firm cross-lashing and attached them to the rope around his waist. A further rope clamping his arms to his torso made Luke start to believe that he was getting “value for money” at last. A quick look at his inadequate clothing would have confirmed Scott’s previous observation.
It was lunchtime and Scott continued securing his prisoner prior to going into the kitchen. A football scarf tied tightly round his eyes effectively blindfolded him and a vicious squeeze to his cheeks forced his mouth open enabling Scott to replace the orange-gag and secure it firmly behind his teeth. This was rapidly approaching what Luke considered to be a “real tie-up”.
TBC