## 6) A Bad Day at School

Post by canuck100 » Sun Nov 22, 2009 3:17 pm

A Bad Day at School
I stated at the end of a tale a couple of posts ago that my adventures had unexpected repercussions. In the first place, I got to go out with Angela, every twelve-year-old's dream chick (well, every twelve-year-old of my acquaintance at the time!). Next, I succeeded in getting my revenge on my older brother, Chris (see my last story in November). The remaining incident occurred after our return to school. It was both unexpected and unpleasant but I feel it deserves to be told if only as a worthwhile lesson to the younger readers here.
The autumn term started and by the end of October the weather was becoming colder (and wetter). Our school hours reverted to those we were used to back home, that is approximately 9.00am to 4.00pm (during the hot summer months we enjoyed reduced hours, commencing early in the morning but finishing at lunchtime. This left the afternoon free for swimming (and the more nefarious activities some of us were involved in). Our tie up games were therefore restricted to weekends and in the less clement weather boys were reluctant to camp out. We had also changed from our summer uniform of white short sleeved shirts and khaki shorts to the more traditional English uniform of grey trousers and sweater. I was between 12 and 13 years old and my parents still insisted I wore short trousers, as did some of my closer friends (not much of a hardship - we still enjoyed warm days from time to time and it did mean I didn't have to wear my older brother's cast-offs!).
On the day in question the lunch break had just commenced and I and some of my close friends were sitting enjoying an uncommonly warm day. We were generally laughing and joking when a girl probably two years older than me and my buddies approached and said I was wanted urgently in the gym. When I asked what the problem was she shrugged her shoulders saying she was just carrying the message and ran off. I told my mates I had better find out what was the matter and to wait for me where they were.
The gym was a separate building standing on its own on the other side of the school buildings adjacent to the sports field and fairly isolated. There was a large locker room inside the entrance, which led to the changing rooms and thence to the gym.
All seemed deserted so I moved towards the boy's changing room, puzzled as to who wanted to see me. As I approached the changing room door I heard a movement behind me. As I turned around four much older boys and three girls appeared from behind the lockers. The three girls were part of the group who we had stumbled across on the occasion my brother made me walk home with my hands tied behind me. They were all at least a year older than me. The boys were older again and recognising them made me tremble. They were a group with a reputation for often being in trouble for bullying in the school and my pals and I would normally go to any lengths to avoid them. "Is this the little squirt?" their leader asked the girls, receiving an answer in the affirmative. "Great, we can have some fun then," he added.
As he was speaking I sensed some of his pals moving around behind me and with a feeling of panic I realised I was surrounded. Choosing my moment I made a dive for a gap in the circle, broke through and ran for the door. I wasn't quick enough however and I felt a hand grab the neck of my sweater. As I swung round to shake myself loose the ring closed behind me again and I was grabbed from behind. I felt my right arm seized, twisted and my hand forced up almost between my shoulder blades. I cried out with pain and a large hand was clamped over my mouth stifling any possibility of calling for help. "A lively little devil, isn't he?" I heard one of my captors say. "Find something to keep him quiet, quick!" As he spoke I was half pushed, half dragged into the boy's changing room.
Once there, my captors spotted a pair of discarded soccer socks. My heart sank - I knew only too well what they intended. One of the boys rolled a sock into a ball and brought it up in front of my face. Despite the pain in my arm I tried desperately to break free to no avail. These thugs knew their business all too well - as the hand was withdrawn from my mouth my nose was pinched, preventing me breathing, while at the same time someone else seized my hair and pulled my head backwards relentlessly. My frantic struggles only made me run out of breath sooner and I was forced to gasp for air. With the pain in my arm and my hair I opened my mouth to let out a yell but had no chance - the sock was stuffed forcefully into my mouth stretching my jaws wide before I could let out a sound. The second sock was quickly wrapped over my mouth, forced between my teeth and then tied off savagely tight. I was incapable of producing any sound at all through the gag.
Satisfied that I was effectively silenced they now pushed me through the door of the gym after first pulling my shoes off. The three girls, unable (or reluctant) to follow us into the boy's changing rooms were waiting for us there and I was shocked to see they were holding some jump ropes. They laughed openly at my distress and gave encouragement to my tormentors by assuring them that I really enjoyed this sort of thing. Everyone laughed.
One of the boys said, "Lets blindfold him," and I felt a hand in the pocket of my shorts. A moment later my handkerchief was pulled out and I watched as it was rolled up in front of me and then used to bandage my eyes. It was knotted so tightly I was unable even to open my eyes beneath the cloth and I saw nothing more of the proceedings. Hands dragged my sweater up over my head none too gently, pulling my free arm out before grabbing that and releasing the other one momentarily while the jumper was pulled clear.
With my right arm forced up between my shoulders again I was once more half dragged, half pushed across the deserted room. Then the pressure on my arm eased and I felt my free arm grabbed. Suddenly I was spun around and pushed backwards hard against the wall and I realised I was standing with my back to the wall bars. Then I felt two pairs of hands grasp me round the thighs and lift me bodily until I found myself with my feet on one of the bars about 2 feet from the floor. Strong fingers were still gripping my wrists relentlessly. Powerless to resist, I felt my arms raised and pulled straight out from my shoulders and then I felt the familiar prickle of rope as a turn was taken around each of my wrists and tightened. I was desperate now as I began to comprehend what was in store for me. I squirmed and struggled furiously but it was an exercise in futility. I was no match for my oppressors and they knew it - my efforts merely made me break out in a sweat and drew a peal of laughter from the rest of the group.
They understood their business only too well - each of my wrists was lashed to a wall bar at shoulder height and a full arm's stretch. The rope was cinched off savagely and knotted tightly, well out of reach of my fingers causing me to utter a moan through my gag. As they finished their work and I no longer felt their hands at my wrists I knew that, raised off the floor as I was, it would be impossible to free myself.
If I had believed they would leave me like that I was to be sadly mistaken. I felt hands at my ankles and in a few seconds my feet were being tightly lashed. I immediately rejected any thought of lashing out with my feet - with no shoes it would have been no more than a gesture and I was now terrified of losing my footing and finding myself suspended by my outstretched arms. My assailants however still hadn't finished and my worst fears were about to be realised. I felt my feet lifted off their perch and my legs were forced up behind me until my ankles were pressed up underneath another wall bar, perhaps 18 inches above the one I had been standing on. I felt further turns being looped around my ankles, drawn tight and then lashed unmercifully to the wall bar. When my bound feet had been lifted I had felt myself sink down until I was brought up by the lashings on my wrists. My arms and chest were stretched taut as my tied wrists and outstretched arms took my weight and I was completely helpless, effectively crucified.
"OK guys, let's split!" I heard one of the boys call and then there was a chorus of laughter followed by a rush of footsteps and the sound of the swing door to the gym closing. I was frightened now as the silence of the deserted hall closed in on me. I had no idea how long I might have to wait before someone found me - the gym was not in use every day - and I was powerless to free myself, blind and gagged. My bound wrists seemed to be on fire, my arms and chest ached and my muscles were stretched almost beyond belief.
I probably only hung there for between 5 and 10 minutes but it seemed like a life time when I heard footsteps approaching the gym. Foolishly and inexplicably, I was now terrified that I was about to be found by a teacher, but as the door opened I heard a familiar voice exclaim, "Oh my god!" It was Stuart. I heard him run across the gym and sensed him climbing up to me. In a moment he had pulled my blindfold off. Unable even to open my eyes beneath the bandage, they now began to water and I had to fight desperately to keep the tears back as I saw the look of concern in my loyal friend's face.
"Richard, I can't get you down on my own - I need help. I'll be back within 2 minutes," he said. He jumped off the wall bars and was gone like the wind. I thought to myself, "You might at least have removed my gag," but there was nothing for it but to await help in my agonising position.
A few minutes later I heard more footsteps, this time running along the passage and Mike and Peter burst into the gym closely followed by Roger and my brother, Chris. While one of them freed my ankles from the wall bars Chris climbed up and gently removed my gag. I was sobbing uncontrollably now - the pain in my wrists and arms seemed unbearable. Peter and Roger untied my wrists while Mike and Chris gently eased me down onto the floor. I felt a pair of hands working at the knots of the lashing at my ankles and finally I was free. At that moment James and Angela burst into the gym accompanied by Stuart. I was embarrassed to be seen by my older friends in tears but they were gentleness personified. As they all crowded round with concern showing in their faces, Chris took my hands in his and looked at the large red weals and rope burns on my wrists, already showing signs of bruising, and said gently, "Who did this to you, Titch?" I shook my head and began to sob again. I was afraid that if I revealed the culprits something worse might befall me (always the major weapon of the bully).
Chris began to remonstrate with me when Angela suddenly said softly, "I can tell you who it was". She named the three girls and said she had heard them plotting earlier in the day. She had seen them leave the gym with my other captors (at the same time naming them to Chris) and guessing I might need help had gone to find James. In the meanwhile, Stuart had become concerned when I didn't return and came to look for me on his own. The rest, as they say, is history.
I managed to pull myself together and Mike produced a wet cloth from the washroom, which he used to wipe my face gently. When Chris asked if I was sure I would be OK to return to lessons I assured him I was. He took Mike and the older boys on one side and went into a huddle for a moment. Then he came back and said, "If you are sure you are OK, I think it would be better not to involve the staff." That suited me - I didn't want to be part of a full-blown inquisition. Turning to my three younger friends he instructed them not to let me out of their sight. Looking at Mike, Peter and Roger he added, "We will deal with this matter in our own way". Angela helped me to my feet and, with her arm in mine we were escorted by the other two boys back to the main school buildings. As we left the gym I turned and saw my other pals in an animated discussion.
My self appointed guardians did not leave my side for the rest of that week. I was hardly complaining - I had the hots for Angela and this simply meant I got to spend more time with her than I otherwise would. It was clear that Chris and the others were plotting something but we were quite unable to find out what. Meanwhile, my assailants seemed somehow to have got the message that they might have gone too far this time. They kept a very low profile within the school and I found out later that I was not the only one to benefit from this amnesty. There were a lot of relieved youngsters enjoying a break from their tyrannical rule. Despite our efforts to keep the events quiet rumours of what had taken place began to circulate and I guess they were afraid that the story was going to get to the ears of a higher authority. In those days it would undoubtedly have gained them a severe beating at the very least but this was not the intention of my brother and the others.
The weekend arrived and I was unexpectedly woken by my brother getting up very early (we shared a room). This was unusual - I would often be up and away with my mates but Chris would normally still be in bed at noon. He apologised for waking me and said he had to meet some friends first thing. He asked to see my hands, which I reluctantly produced from beneath the covers. We had always been close but over the last few days his gentleness and concern had shown no bounds. He took my hands in his and turning them over examined the livid weals and ferocious bruises on my wrists. As he did so I sensed his anger rising once more and quickly withdrew my arms out of sight. I was becoming an expert in this - I had carefully kept my sleeves pulled well down over the last few days to prevent my parents discovering my wounds. "Get some rest, Titch," he said softly, "I will sort this out with Mike and co. in due course" then he was gone.
Stuart and James were going to hang out with me that day and in due course a knock on the door announced their arrival. The weather was pleasantly warm again and we had all adopted our familiar uniform of blue gym shorts but I decided on a long sleeved sweatshirt rather than a tee shirt to keep my arms covered. We spent some time discussing how we should spend our free time and decided to swim that afternoon - we knew we would shortly have to stop this activity as the temperature dropped off so wanted to make the most of the weather. I was a little reluctant at first in view of the state of my arms but the two boys were very persuasive and so it was agreed. The following day a number of our mates were meeting in the woods. Stuart and James were a little surprised when I said we should join them. They exchanged glances but as there was no intention of a tie up game being played that was agreed upon as well.
The time passed pleasantly enough, if somewhat quietly until suddenly, in the late morning, there was a loud hammering on the door. James opened it and Matthew almost fell onto the mat, quite out of breath. He was dressed as we were in blue cotton shorts and had obviously run some distance, as his tee shirt was soaked in sweat. We gave him a cold drink and when he recovered his breath he said, "I've got a message for you from Chris. He wants you to join him at the cafÃ© down by the beach as soon as possible!" Since we were planning on going that way shortly I said I would grab my kit and we would come straight away (my pals had their swimming gear with them). We asked Matthew what was going on but he either couldn't, or wouldn't say. When I returned he looked embarrassed and then asked if he might see my wrists. Reluctantly I pushed up my sleeves and held my arms out. He was horrified at the sight of the bruises and quickly told me to cover them up.
We didn't see any reason to hurry to our destination although Matthew kept cajoling us to get on but at an easy pace we covered the 2 miles in 20 minutes. We were surprised to find Mike, Peter and Roger with my brother, and waiting on the table were bottles of iced coke for us. I began to think my adventure had been worthwhile - Chris and I might be close but he didn't often put his hand in his pocket for me, let alone my other buddies! Once sat down we all were desperate to hear what was going on.
At last Mike silenced our questions with a gesture and explained that since the events of the previous week they had all been plotting some form of revenge. They had learnt (through Angela, my favourite Mata Hari!) that my assailants were meeting at the cafÃ© early that morning and had decided to way lay them. Separately, they had been persuaded to accompany Chris and co. to an isolated spot where they were now being held prisoner. "Don't worry, as you should know only too well, there is no possibility of their escaping what so ever," Peter laughed.
"Originally we were going to deal with them alone, but on reflection we decided that it would be better if you were there to witness what is about to take place. It will make their humiliation all the greater if it is observed by a group of youngsters, and you in particular, Richard," Mike said cheerfully. "No need to rush your drinks - they aren't going any place!"
At length we finished drinking and got up. I had expected to be taken to the nearby woods but Roger quickly put me straight. "We thought it inappropriate to take them where we usually hang out and play our games! Just follow us." We were led back across rocky scrub-land to an olive grove, not far from where we lived. It was a lonely and deserted spot, rarely visited by anyone. As we entered the trees we heard the familiar muffled sounds of a gagged person trying to cry for help.
We came upon the four boys quite suddenly. Two were on the ground hog tied incredibly tightly. In addition to the tie between wrists and ankles which was so tight their fingers were brushing their heels both boys had their elbows tied together. Neither boy was so supple that their elbows were touching but I knew from experience that it was a painful position to be left in. One other was standing on tip toe his hands stretched above his head held by a long rope over a branch and which was then lead down to his bound ankles (this was our favourite "interrogation" position). The fourth was kneeling, his back to a sapling, his ankles crossed and tied behind the trunk while his hands had been pulled above his head and similarly tied behind the tree trunk. James, Stuart and I could all vouch for how uncomfortable this was. Needless to say, all four were securely gagged. All were clad in shorts but had had their shirts removed by their captors. They were all being watched over by Andrew and Mark.
As we entered the grove they ceased to struggle and looked at us with appealing eyes. They had obviously used considerable exertion to try to free themselves - they were all bathed in sweat - but it was a waste of time. I knew to my cost that Mike and Peter, in particular, were consummate artists when it came to tying a person up. As I stepped forward I stumbled over four large, empty coke bottles. Roger laughed and said, "You see, we always take great care of our prisoners!" He turned to the captives and said, "Are you guys thirsty again? We've brought more supplies in case you are." As he spoke he opened a bag to reveal more bottles of drink.
Chris stepped up to the biggest of the four who had been the ringleader and was now one of the pair hog-tied on the ground. Crouching down he said, "You have already met my brother but perhaps you haven't been properly introduced." A look of horror passed over the tightly trussed boy's face - it was clear he had had no idea Chris and I were related. "Show him your arms, Richard," Chris instructed. I was strangely reluctant to do so but suddenly felt both my elbows seized and I was pulled gently but inexorably forward by Mike and Peter who then delicately and carefully pushed up the sleeves of my sweatshirt before holding my hands out to the bound youth. When they released me I self-consciously covered my arms again.
Chris was speaking again, this time addressing all four prisoners. "You must be very proud of yourselves, to think that the four of you managed to inflict that on a twelve year old! My friends and I have discussed it at some length and we are here to tell you that we don't think much of your techniques. We all feel that you need a proper lesson in bullying and we are just the chaps to give it! However before we start we are going to give you a chance to have your say and perhaps explain why you did it".
With that the prisoner's gags were removed and each in turn was asked if he had anything to say. The two older boys remained silently truculent but of the others, one said he was deeply sorry and the other pleaded to be released. Both were already close to tears. Their captors were unimpressed. After asking each in turn if he wanted a drink which was refused by all four, their gags were ordered to be replaced. I wasn't a bit surprised by their refusal - I had a suspicion of what was to follow.
We were not kept in suspense long. Suddenly four of the group of captors launched a tickling attack on each of the bound boys. When we "interrogated" our prisoners during games we would invariably keep the attack up for five or ten minutes and then allow our prisoner time to recover. Not on this occasion! The assault was unrelenting. As someone grew tired, so his place was taken by one of the two boys waiting eagerly for his chance for retribution. The four prisoners seemed surprised by the nature of the assault. I believe they had expected something more "physical". However, as the tickling went on their muffled giggles and laughter seemed to die away to be replaced by groans.
I was now certain what was in store for them (had I not myself been subjected to similar treatment?). The first to break was the oldest boy. After about 45 minutes he suddenly began to sob into his gag. His tears of mirth had dried up some time before but now his eyes filled with tears of a different sort. Stuart, James and I who had all been on the receiving end of this treatment (although in somewhat different circumstances) all had a fair idea of what would follow and were watching closely. Suddenly our attention was rewarded as a large wet patch spread across the boy's shorts - he had comprehensively peed himself. His torture stopped at last but he was left lying still hog-tied in his soaked shorts, quietly sobbing into his gag.
One by one each boy was reduced to tears until finally they lost control and wet themselves. My brother and his friends congratulated themselves on a job well done and removed their prisoners gags. Each boy remained bound in his respective position sobbing quietly. Chris once more addressed them all and said, "My friends and I see no reason why details of your little adventure should ever get out. However, if we hear that any of you have been involved in bullying anyone ever again, be assured that the story in all it's glorious details will be all over the school by the end of that day. Is that quite clearly understood?"
Each one nodded and mumbled his assent. They were all untied and stood in a group looking ashamed in their wet shorts while their shirts were returned to them. Then they were given permission to leave and quietly turned and walked off. Chris watched them go and said, "I don't know how they will explain how they came to wet themselves when they get home but that's their problem. Perhaps their mothers will put them all back in diapers!" We all laughed as the tension was at last released.
I headed back to the beach with my pals while the older boys left in a different direction. We discussed what had happened briefly but decided we should tell no one what we had seen that morning. We swam all afternoon and I gradually became less embarrassed by my scars.
The next afternoon we all met again, as had been arranged, in the woods. Most of the troop was there and many of the boys asked to see my arms. I was still rather self-conscious but everyone was kindness itself. There were gasps of horror as I exhibited my scars. David at last brought himself to ask the question, which I guess was uppermost in everybody's mind, "Does this mean you are going to stop participating in our games now?" I hadn't given this matter any thought but after a moment I replied, "No, I don't think so. Everyone in the troop is very careful to observe our unwritten rules and no one has ever been hurt while I have been taking part. I don't see why that should change. You all know I enjoy our games enormously and what happened last week was very different".
Suddenly I was surrounded by a clamouring ring of youngsters. Mike and Peter put their arms round my shoulders and held up their hands for silence. "We are all going to have to be gentle with Richard for a while but it is great to know you still want to participate. It wouldn't be the same without a scrawny little kid like you to capture and don't think for one moment you will find it any easier to escape even if we are being gentle!"
As I have already indicated, rumours of what had happened to me had spread rapidly throughout the school. My friends and I did nothing, either to foster them or deny them although it was impossible to keep the marks on my arms out of sight all the time. However, Angela and her best friend Jane, made it their business to ensure that everyone knew the part played by the three girls involved and for the rest of the term they found themselves ostracised by all their friends. They never found out what had befallen the boys but a week later I was approached by all three (I was still being looked after by my "minders") and received a full and unqualified apology.
In the weeks that followed a new atmosphere seemed to descend on the school as the younger pupils were released from an oppressive regime. My four assailants seemed very shy of me and would go to any length to avoid me, even crossing the road if they saw me approach. The story never got out but they knew Chris was not one to make idle threats.
The strangest part of the whole saga occurred three weeks after my being tortured. I was leaving school one evening accompanied by Chris, his arm protectively around my shoulder when one of the older teachers approached us. This man had a reputation for stern discipline but Chris (who knew him well) said he also had a lively sense of humour. Stopping us he looked at Chris and said, "I'm hearing strange rumours of unpleasant things happening to your brother". Glancing down he took in my wrists, which I was too slow to hide although the bruising and rope burns were beginning to fade. "On the other hand, a certain group of boys with an evil reputation have been remarkably subdued recently and the whole atmosphere within the school, particularly amongst the younger ones, seems to have changed. I ask myself whether these events might be linked?" Without waiting for an answer he went on, "I am much too discreet to ask you if you had any involvement in these events, Christopher, but wondered if you and your friends (who ever they might be) liked chocolate?" With that he pulled out a huge bag of sweets and handed them to my brother with a twinkle in his eye!
Two months later the ringleader left when his family returned to the UK. One of the other boys then left for a boarding school and, in the fullness of time we became quite friendly with the remaining pair!
Richard
UK