OUT OF CIRCULATION

Postby xtc » Sun Jul 17, 2011 5:41 am

This story sprang from a suggestion from w3sKer96. I thought that it would be a short (about 6000 words) story but, like so many others, it just growed. The probelm is that it's still growing! The first third is complete so I'll post that over the next few weeks. There will then probably be a haiatus until I'm happy with the next part. If it looks as though anybody's interested, progress will prbably be quicker!
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OUT OF CIRCULATION



Let Me Explain - part 1


Let’s face it: everyone who knew him was fed up to the tits with Matty so the news that he had been found like that came as very little surprise to anyone. Let me explain.

-----00000-----


One of his less intelligent stunts was when he and a group of his mates decided to use the school’s CCTV cameras for target practice, first with their footballs and, when they didn’t cause enough damage, with stones. It took real brain not to realise that the images of him and his mates had already been recorded. That particular stunt cost their parents quite a lot of money, all except Matty’s who refused to accept their son’s culpability. Perhaps that explains a lot.

Another was when one of his friends pulled down his shorts and underwear during the 400 metres at a school sports day. Instead of stopping to adjust his dress immediately, Matty ran on for about 100 metres in front of everybody before doing so.

So, most of his friends thought that made him a “good laugh”. But his conduct on the football field was a different matter. That made him a total arse (I was going to use an alliterative phrase starting with the word “complete” but thought better of it in print). Let me explain.

-----00000-----


Matty’s older brother, Sean, was already a professional footballer who had been taken on by our second-nearest Football League club and had since been sold on to a more prestigious one. Whenever he appears on the local TV news, everyone who knows him feels good for him. His autographed shirt hangs in the school library. But Sean had worked hard at school as well as on his football. He took all the advice that both his teachers and his trainers gave him and is now really going places.

Matty was even more talented and should have eclipsed his big brother by now but he hasn’t. Let me explain.

-----00000-----


Matty is a total tit.

Let me explain.


-----00000-----


In spite of certain reservations on behalf of the management, Matty found a training place in a professional club but the manager soon realised that his selfishness meant that he was not the asset to the team that he should have been. He was recognised as having far more natural talent than his older brother but the staff didn’t seem to be able to direct it towards the greatest good of the club. Too often someone was in place to score when Matty had the ball. All he had to do was pass and give his team-mate a clear shot at goal. No. He’d rather shoot for goal himself only to have the ball intercepted and sent back up the pitch.

It was after the game on Saturday, May 14th that everyone had finally had enough. An eighteen year-old should have reached greater maturity by then. But then so should the rest of the team, I suppose. Let me explain.

-----00000-----


All the players were in the showers and the usual insults were being exchanged. No one would have suspected that anything unusual was about to happen, well, at least Matty wouldn’t have done so and that was the whole idea.

Matty stepped out of the shower and started towelling down. He was never one of the first to do so; he hogged the shower nearly as much as he hogged the ball. As he stepped out of the wet area, he felt a sharp snap on his backside. That wasn’t unusual, there were always high-jinx in the shower room and he wasn’t surprised at having been towel-whipped but what happened next came as a bit more of a surprise. Let me explain.

-----00000-----


Matty hadn’t even had time to dry his spiky dark hair let alone gel it to an acceptable style. He hadn’t had time to dry his private parts or anything else for that matter when he turned to see who had attacked him. Then even he noticed that there was something wrong. The whole room was quiet. Everyone was looking at him. No one was smiling.

His team-mates were in different states of dryness and various states of undress but they were all looking humourlessly at him.

“What’s up, boys?” Matty was thin lipped at the best of times and the crooked, half-smile emphasised this feature of his physiognomy.

“Get him.” There followed a concerted, and certainly pre-planned assault. Anyone who has never been slammed naked onto a tiled changing room floor by so may assailants will not be able to understand the shock, panic and sheer pain engendered. Matty understood.

“Come on, boys, what’s on? It’s not my birthday or anything.” Matty genuinely had no idea how unpopular he was.

Geoff stepped forward. “Let me explain.”

-----00000-----


“You’re a total cunt. A selfish little prat. A complete drag-anchor. A complete unthinking little git. An unmitigated liability. “ In the interests of brevity (and decency) I’ve cut out some of the opinions and falsely attributed them to one speaker for the sake of effect, but I think you’ll get the idea.

“You’ve cost us at least four goals in the last six games and we’re pissed off.”

“You want all the attention? Well, now you’ve got it.” By now the other footballers had got off him and Matty thought it would be a good idea to use his hands to protect his precious parts. He was quite pale for someone who spent so much time outdoors and, although fit, had no greatly defined physique other than good shoulders and a pronounced rounded arse. Lying naked and face up on the floor with only his hands for protection, Matty had never felt so vulnerable.

“We need to keep you out of the way for a few days. We can’t have you picked for Wednesday’s game. If no one knows where you are, they can’t get a message to you, can they?” Sam seemed to have taken over from Geoff as spokesman.

Geoff took over again, “There’s twelve of us; even the reserves know they’d be better than you. There’s no way you can get away from us so it’s just a question of whether you want it easy or difficult.”

“Oh, come on lads, this is a joke. Isn’t it?” That’s when Mattty’s crooked smile disappeared.

“No, it’s not. Let me explain.”

-----00000-----


“Other than the caretaker, there’s no one else in the ground and he seems to sympathise with us. He’s worked for this club for twenty years and he can’t remember seeing such a detestable little ball-hog as you before. He won’t trouble us and he’s even shown us a place hidden away where not even his staff go. Enjoy.”

The entire squad then seemed to descend upon Matty. The outcome should have taught him something about the value of teamwork. He was tipped onto his belly and every time he tried to speak, he found his face being smashed into the ground, not hard enough to make his nose bleed but enough to bruise him and make him feel completely helpless. His arms were quickly forced behind him so that his hands met the opposite elbows and what felt like some sort of adhesive tape was wrapped around his lower arms, starting from his right wrist until it reached his right elbow whereupon the process was reversed.

“We’re using Elastoplast, Rory’s mum got it from the hospital. It’s hypo-allergenic and really sticky and it’s going to hurt like hell when you rip it off.” explained Geoff.

“Yes,” agreed Rory, “and we need to keep you like that for so long that using ropes would be cruel, wouldn’t it?” With that he started wrapping more surgical tape between Matty’s upper arms so that he couldn’t force them apart.

Even with his legs still free, Matty was now, to all intents and purposes, helpless. It’s just a shame for him that his mouth didn’t seem to understand that. “Keep shouting, boy. While you can.” said Sam, “Where’s his skins?”

“Which ones?”

“Duhh! His compression shorts of course.”

Matty thought that at least he wasn’t gong to be left naked even if the garment did stink from the effort of ninety unrelenting minutes’ play.

Rory found the shorts and Matty prepared to be at least partially dressed again.

Sam spoke again. “Let me explain.”

-----00000-----


Following Sam’s erudition, Matty was left in no doubt that he was not going to be dressed in even such minimal clothing. He also knew what Sam meant by, “While you can.” Even Matty’s mouth was hardly big enough to accommodate the scrunched up garment but Sam certainly got most of it in with the assistance of the guy that had of hold Matty’s balls. What couldn’t be accommodated was tucked, as neatly as Sam could manage, behind Matty’s lips before they were forced together and even more flesh-coloured tape applied. It looked remarkably orange against the pale youngster’s face.

By now Matty’s defiant yelling had subdued into quite a pitiful sounding whimpering. It had no effect, well, except for making everyone else laugh. Everyone stood back to admire the result of teamwork. Matty still scrabbled round on the floor of the changing room frantically trying to stand up. The others had time. They waited until he had done so.

“OK, so what do you think you’re going to do now?” asked Geoff.

Matty was a pillock but he wasn’t thick. He realised that his tormentors had just let him waste his energy to no effect at all. Their echoing laughter was like a knife in his guts; anyone less intelligent wouldn’t have been affected so badly.

“Want to cooperate now or do you want even more pain?” asked Geoff. Matty stood still and hung his head. All hope was disappearing – all hope had disappeared.

Matty looked at his team-mates and said, “Uu-eee” but no-one was prepared to believe that he was trying to say, “Please.” Not even the desperate look in those grey eyes was of any use at all. Matty had sealed his own fate long ago, not just with that last spoiled scoring opportunity but by his whole attitude to his team-mates. They’d tried asking the Boss why he was always picked over certain other members of the squad but the Boss didn’t want to listen; all he could see was the sheer naked talent of the young man. So could the rest of his team mates at the minute. But it wasn’t very impressive compared to some.

“OK, boys, time for a bit more punishment, I think.” Matty had nowhere to run. He was surrounded by people with wet towels being prepared for duty.

“Eeeee!” The last prolonged, desperate plea degenerated into a series of muffled but desperate yelps as the whipping started.

“Yep, I reckon that gag’ll do.” announced Rory as Matty fell to the floor and curled into a foetal position in a desperate attempt to escape the attentions of his fellows.

The whipping stopped and Sam bent down to Matty’s ear and said, “Let me explain.”

-----00000-----


Sam really read Matty’s fortune – or at least as far as the next few days were concerned. He was going to be secured and taken somewhere where he would be guarded to make sure he was safe but where nobody else would find him until Wednesday’s team had been picked. If he was good, he’d be granted privileges, otherwise, he’d find out just what sort of unfortunate implications being completely immobilised for over three days would have on an athlete.

By this stage, Matty’s natural aggression had given way to abject fear and when Sam asked, “Understand, wanker?” Matty could only nod without any attempt to protest against the epithet.

Justin was one of the players who always got left on the bench while Matty was wasting the team’s opportunities and he was rather hoping that their prisoner would put up more of a fight so that he could wade in on his own behalf. It was a shame to see him collapse so quickly but Justin thought that he’d get his opportunities over the next couple of days.

Geoff put it to Matty that Justin could blindfold him and lead him to where he was to spend the next few days or they could tape his ankles and legs together before Justin and Paul (the other player who seemed to be missing out on the action on the field) dragged him there. Matty made no resistance while one of his own dirty football socks was folded, placed over his eyes and taped into place. Justin thought that a bit of reinforcement would be useful but, after five judiciously applied turns, he stopped.

Just for fun the rest of the team then spun Matty around like the start of a game of blind man’s buff. The entertainment provided by watching him trying to regain his equilibrium was enhanced by a further application of whippings with wet towels. Once he had fallen to the floor again, Justin and Paul hauled him to his feet, grabbed him by the arms and made him move backwards to his new accommodation – fast!

Matty didn’t even know there was as much of the ground as he was being dragged across but he was aware of a number of doors being shut behind him and found himself being forced down three flights of stairs giving him the impression that he was being consigned to the depths of the Earth. Paul and Justin eventually released him and Paul said, “Welcome home.”

The next voice Matty heard was Geoff’s. “We discussed this next bit to decide who would have to do it. Someone lost.” Matty suddenly backed up to the wall as he felt something clamped around his scrotum. It was heavy and pretty tight. Justin had fitted Matty into a large round padlock with a very small gap between the shackle and the case, part of which was already occupied by the end link of a short but hefty chain. Paul and he then turned the, by now terrified, young man round to face the wall (although he couldn’t see it) and Paul locked the other end of the chain to a redundant heavy staple imbedded in the wall. It was high enough and the chain was short enough to leave Matty hardly able to move without stressing his more delicate parts even more than they were stressed already. He couldn’t turn, move away from the wall or bend his legs by more than a couple of centimetres.

The last voice Matty heard before the sound of people leaving and more and more distant doors being slammed shut and locked was Sam’s. “Buy now you’re probably close to pisssing yourself. Well don’t! We’ve decided that your hair and nose will be rubbed into anything you leave on the floor.”

The team had plans for Matty. Let me explain.


TBC

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If you didn't like it, blame w3sKer96.
If you did, It was all my own work!
Boxer shorts are cool,
but little speedos rule!

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

Re: OUT OF CIRCULATION

Postby sarumansauron » Mon Jul 18, 2011 11:34 am

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

Re: OUT OF CIRCULATION

Postby Jason Toddman » Mon Jul 18, 2011 2:09 pm

Interesting scenario so far. I think even *I* would be nervous about being in a situation like *this* one! :big:
Dare to be different... and make a difference.
To boldly go where no one in their right mind has gone before...

Re: OUT OF CIRCULATION

Postby Veracity » Fri Jul 22, 2011 8:56 pm

How much do I like this story?

Let me explain.

A lot!

Re: OUT OF CIRCULATION

Postby xtc » Sun Jul 24, 2011 8:37 am

Veracity wrote:How much do I like this story?

Let me explain.

A lot!


Like it! Thank you.

Thank you also the others who have replied.
Boxer shorts are cool,
but little speedos rule!

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

Re: OUT OF CIRCULATION

Postby xtc » Sun Jul 24, 2011 12:11 pm

My gratitude to those who have commented. Don't worry, Matty(H), your team is not really gunning for you! - - - - As far as I know!

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OUT OF CIRCULATION


Let Me Explain – part 2


The rest of the team didn’t really intend to immobilise Matty for the next four days but they did intend to keep him out of circulation. That should be easy enough in the deserted section of the ground. The ground would only be used for a couple of hours tomorrow and after that he ground team would keep clear until the Wednesday morning.

They were going to leave him for a few hours to feel sorry for himself and imagine, fearfully, the possible fate awaiting him. Following that, he would be allowed minimal exercise, a certain amount of food and water and would eventually be allowed to move his arms. He would also suffer various humiliations at the hands of the rest of the team. They would all take turns to try out their own ideas on him, some would make him do humiliating things, some would “give him the opportunity to earn privileges”, in other words, do humiliating things and some would just torture him. A rota had been worked out so that there would always be four people to “look after” Matty while everyone else could go home until it was their turn and everybody knew who was to do what and when.

Geoff, Sam, Justin and Paul took first shift. They’d stay until Sunday afternoon when they’d be replaced by another four players. With four guards two could always take the opportunity to sleep while two stayed on guard or tormented the imprisoned football “star”. The other eight young men said their goodbyes and Rory’s team promised they’d return by four o’clock on Sunday afternoon.

Geoff and co. left Matty to stand in pain and fear for four hours before they went to “talk” to him.

Justin explained that they wouldn’t dream of leaving Matty like that for four days and asked him if he’d like something to drink. Matty nodded; he was so dispirited that he hadn’t even tried to rub the Elastoplast from his face, not that it would have done him much good. Paul asked Matty if he’d like something to eat. Matty nodded only to be told that he’d get neither food nor water until tomorrow when he’d had a chance to earn it.

Sam asked if Matty need a piss. Matty nodded again, not expecting any more luck, only to hear Sam say, “OK.” and feel the padlock at his chest unlocked from the wall allowing him to relax his legs. He was turned round and felt his penis being inserted into a receptacle. “Alright, pee in this.” Not only was Matty terrified, he’d have needed a visit to the loo by now in any case. He used the empty plastic milk bottle copiously not caring about the humiliation involved any more.

Once Matty had finished relieving himself, Geoff repeated the previous warning about what would happen if he didn’t manage to control his bowels. To say that Matty was still “shit-scared” would be an understatement and he really didn’t know how long he could hold it. Geoff told Matty that he could start to earn privileges and take exercise and asked if he was interested.

“Let me Explain.”


-----00000-----


Matty felt something lowered over his head and pulled tight at his neck, then released a bit, then tightened, loosened, etc a few times. This was Geoff demonstrating the lasso that he had fitted. “Now you’re going to be like a good little pony on his lunge rein in the schooling ring. Walk on.” Matty was puzzled. He didn’t know what was expected of him and just stood there. “Oh, and I’d like you to meet my friend, Sally, she encourages recalcitrant little ponies to behave.” Matty jerked forwards as he felt the long, whippy willow wand sting both his buttocks. “Now, walk on.” Matty got the idea and started walking with Geoff standing in the middle of the large basement room holding on to the lasso.

“That’s good, now keep the lunge rein tighter please.” Another sharp crack across the backside made Matty pull away from where he judged Geoff to be standing. “Good boy, walk on.” Just a little flick this time. “Good boy, good boy. And stop!” Geoff jerked the lasso slightly and Matty came to a halt. Another little flick of the willow. “Keep the lunge-reign tight.” Matty knew he was powerless and was glad that only these four footballers could see him in his humiliation. He should have known better. Technology is a wonderful thing.

“Good boy, now walk on.” Just another little flick and Matty started walking round in circles again making his best attempt to keep the lasso tight enough to please his trainer without strangling himself. He seemed to be pleased and after about two minutes another little flick accompanied the command, “And stop. Good boy.” Matty felt the lasso go slack as Geoff approached him and ruffled his hair. “Good boy. Good boy.” The football sock was absorbing the tears of shame and hurt. “Now, we’ll practice those moves a few more times and, if you can do them without the whip, we’ll carry on to the next part.” Geoff moved back to the middle of the room.

“OK, walk on.” Matty didn’t need the whip for the repeated instructions to “stop” and “walk on” for the next few minutes although he did get a few sharp cracks accompanied by the command, “Tighter”. Geoff thought his little pony had learnt his lessons so far and decided to expand Matty’s vocabulary of commands. “OK boy, jog on.” A sharp application of the willow quickly gave Matty the idea of what was expected and he started jogging unsteadily while still trying to keep the lasso tight. A little flick, “And walk on”. Matty was catching on quickly by now. After several repeats of all three instructions and frequent, “Good boy” remarks, Geoff said, “And rest.” Matty came to a halt. The padlock and chain, that were still in place, were bad enough when Matty was just walking but, when it came to jogging, the pain doubled.

A swish and one more hard crack went across Matty’s thighs this time. His almost completely muffled protest was supposed to indicate that he didn’t know what he had done wrong.

“And rest”

“Mnnn Mnnn?” and Matty did his best to face where he thought Geoff was standing. Geoff forewent another stroke and explained, “Kneel down and rest.” Matty did so. He was determined about two things: he didn’t want to keep being beaten and he didn’t want to disgrace himself on the floor.

Geoff, Sam, Justin and Paul spent a few minutes talking and doing what Matty very quickly worked out was looking at video footage of his “schooling”. Yes, it HAD been possible for him to sink even lower into despair.

Geoff returned to his place. “God boy, stand up.” Matty struggled to his feet. Predictably the commands were rehearsed several times more with Matty carefully managing to avoid any more encounters with “Sally”. From jogging, Geoff introduced a new command, “And run” A further swish to Matty’s backside, followed by what must have been an even louder cry of anguish, spurred him into action. With his arms taped behind him, keeping his balance while trying to run was far from easy and he kept getting disciplined for not keeping the lasso tight. Being able to breathe only through his nose also made his life as a pony difficult. Geoff must have kept alternating all the other commands for at least five minutes before announcing, “And rest.” Matty crashed to his knees snorting almost like a real pony. At least the pain caused by the padlock pulling on his delicate parts and the chain that had been whipping his thighs unrelentingly throughout his “schooling” subsided a bit every time he knelt down.

“Good boy, good boy.” And Geoff ruffled Matty’s hair again. He didn’t even react.

“Are we going to give him some straw for his stable?” asked Sam. “He can always shit on that.” Even that didn’t elicit a noticeable reaction from Matty except a barely perceptible whimper.

“No, I don’t think so. I think my little pony has earned a reward. Let me explain.”

-----00000-----


Geoff went over to the still heavy-breathing Matty and took his jaw in his hand forcing his face upwards. “You can do as Sam suggested or you can use a hospital bedpan.” Which is it to be?” Matty didn’t know how to answer; he knew he didn’t want to be left blindfolded and lying on soiled straw. Geoff though he’d help him. “If you want the bedpan, touch your nose to the ground now otherwise we’ll bring you in some straw for your bedding and toilet.” He released Matty’s jaw and Matty tried to touch his nose down in submission as he’d been told. That action caused him to collapse face down on the ground.

“Good boy. Try to sit up.” Matty’s attempt to do so caused a certain amount of abrasion against the floor and also caused considerable mirth among his captors. Sam eventually helped him and lifted him by the arms while Justin positioned the antique ceramic bedpan underneath him. Matty had no dignity left to lose to those four so he just did what he desperately needed to do Paul lost the toss and had to clean him afterwards and dispose of the waste.

“OK,” announced Sam, “time to go back to the wall for the night. There’s no heating in this part of the buildings so it won’t be very warm but you shouldn’t suffer hypothermia at this time of year. Matty found himself being hauled quite gently, considering, to his feet by the chain and led to where he assumed was where he was chained previously. Before he got there, Paul made him an offer.

“You can stand with your bollocks chained to the wall all night or you can sleep in a sleeping bag. Would you like that?” Matty nodded faintly, he knew there must be a snag but he certainly didn’t want to be left standing in increasing pain until the morning. “OK, but you’ll have to be tied up better than you are at the minute. Lie down. Legs together.” There was no going back even if Matty wanted to so he was soon lying on his back feeling more tape being wrapped round his ankles.

“Do think that’s enough, lads?”

“Nah, use lots. We’ve got enough of it.” So Sam continued: round the tops of Matty’s calves, above his knees and, somewhat redundantly, round his thighs.

“At least now,” thought Matty, “they can’t tie me up any more.”

Wrong!

Let me explain.

-----00000-----


Paul had got both of the laces out of Matty’s football boots and tied them securely together. The fisherman’s knot has many uses. He then tied Matty’s big toes inescapably together using plenty of bootlace but leaving plenty of the 90 cm laces for other purposes. He threaded the ends in opposite directions through the bottom link of the chain still padlocked to Matty’s scrotum. The chain had been forced between Matty’s thighs and the laces between his calves before Paul started his adjustments. Matty’s look of fear as he felt Paul’s adjustments being affected couldn’t be seen due to the amount of tape covering his face but even that much tape couldn’t totally obscure the initial scream. Paul adjusted the length of the binding more with the intention of causing distress than of really deciding how much to force Matty to bend his knees if he wanted to avoid as much pain as possible. Not that Matty could see it but Paul left him as much length as securely tying off the ends of the laces would allow.

Justin then laid an open sleeping bag on the floor and helped Paul get Matty into it before zipping it up and fastening the hood.

“If you make too much noise turning over in the night, I’m going to pull your toes closer to your balls. Undestand?” explained Paul. Matty was intent, for obvious reasons, to make as little movement as possible. It took him quite a while to realise that he’d need to turn quite often simply to try to alleviate his discomfort. He tried to be quiet, he tried to move gently and, above all, he tried to keep his knees as bent as his sleeping bag and the laces and chain would allow.

Once Matty had been secured for the night, Geoff, who had left some time before, returned with fish and chips. The smell of the supper was a further torment to Matty who knew he wasn’t going to get any. Other than that, the others seemed to make a point of ignoring him altogether. It was going to be a long night. Geoff, Sam, Justin and Paul worked a out a rota for sting on guard and three of them retired to the adjacent room where they had arranged camp beds and other items for their comfort.

“Night, Matty.” called Geoff as he disappeared. “Night Sam.”

Sam, whose turn it was to take first shift, went over to Matty and whispered in his ear, “Let me explain.”

-----00000-----


“I need to get a bit of kip as well, don’t forget: no noise – unless you’re dying.” With that Sam lay down on a camp bed and soon fell into a doze. Soon, other than Sam’s snoring, the only other noises were the traces of Matty’s subdued sobbing and his occasional VERY careful attempts at turning over.

Shifts changed and most people got a good night’s sleep. Eventually even Matty passed out from sheer exhaustion. In the morning, Geoff pulled the zip of Matty’s sleeping bag roughly to his feet and threw the bag open, waking him abruptly in the middle of what was evidently a most stimulating dream while Sam untied the hood. That left Matty on his back, still aroused, running with sweat and with his knees raised laying on a very damp sleeping bag. He couldn’t suppress his initial cry of surprise and alarm.

“Morning, Matty. Good sleep?” said Justin, giving his erect dick a flick with his foot. God, Matty wanted that padlock removed. “Right, we’re going for breakfast now. Don’t miss us too much.” After the door slammed and he heard the key turn in the lock, Matty felt very alone. Their absence, which was no more than a half-hour trip to a burger van outside the ground, seemed interminable. Matty thought: should he yell for all he was worth; had they left a sentry; should he put in a concerted effort to work free?
His decision to embark upon the third option soon proved certain things: there was no sentry; the only result of his struggles was increased pain and that there was no point in just shouting as even his screams of pain were muffled below where they could be heard in the next room.

When his captors returned, a completely defeated Matty heard Justin announce that they were going to have a kick-around and that Matty could be in goal. At last – they’d have to undo him. And they did – sort of. Justin rolled Matty onto his back again and forced his feet towards his backside. Matty felt the laces being undone from the chain and then from his toes. He was allowed to straighten his legs for the fist time for hours. Some minutes were taken as Justin allowed Matty to rest for a while before he cut the Elastoplast round Matty’s legs, leaving just his ankles bound; but before long the torment started again.

Justin threaded the conjoined laces through one of the links on the chain and then made a bight in the end of one of the laces, wrapped the free end round several times and threaded it through the bight. Once the loop had been fitted round Matty’s right big toe and the knot pulled tight, his toe was held in a firm half blood knot. At least that wasn’t as bad as having his toes bound together and hitched to his testicles. Once his left toe had been tied similarly, Matty couldn’t quite straighten his legs. Justin had been clever with the positioning of his tie: Matty could make himself a bit more comfortable by lifting his knees but, more to the point, Justin knew he’d be able to stand. Justin cut the tape holding Matty’s ankles together and Matty’s initial reaction to separate his legs and straighten them had the predicted effect. Matty soon bent his knees enough to remove the stress on his bollocks.

The spontaneous round of applause from Justin’s mates was, to say the least, unexpected. They were even gracious enough to ignore Matty’s stifled exhalation of “Bastards”.

Even after a hot, sweaty night, the tape holding Matty’s arms in place had hardly given at all. Even the tape round his eyes and mouth was still doing its job even though it was starting to come loose round the edges. The pain in his immobilised arms was something that Matty would not have expected but, if he was to be the goalie, they’d have to release them first, wouldn’t they. His thought was that, after having been kept as he was all night, he’d make a crap goalie and he wondered if he’d get punished for that. It didn’t matter; at least he’d be able to move. He’d also have the blindfold removed. He knew that would be painful as it was pulled from his spiky hair but it would be worth it.

Justin borrowed Geoff’s lasso and pulled Matty to his feet. Following the initial surge of pain through his privates as he tried to straighten up, Matty found that he could stand but only with his knees bent somewhat. “Walk on.” came Justin’s voice as Matty felt the noose tighten. He followed unsteadily, knees bent like Groucho Marks and somewhat bent over to balance himself. The others made sure there were plenty of photos and a video for distribution later – but only if it was necessary, of course.

All that distance and three flights of stairs with no warning from Justin left Matty shaken, bruised and suffering from the padlock again. At least this time the chain wasn’t whipping him round the thighs. Once they reached the outside, Matty felt the cold, early Autumn air as Justin led him across the ground to the five-a- side astro-turf pitch with its goals and special markings.

“Right, we need a goalie. You’re it.” Justin reminded his prisoner, “Let me explain.”


TBC

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Come to think of it: Matty, did you say you were a goalie!?? :twisted:
Boxer shorts are cool,
but little speedos rule!

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

Re: OUT OF CIRCULATION

Postby Jason Toddman » Sun Jul 24, 2011 2:32 pm

Hmmm... vaguely reminds me of when my cousins tricked me into believing I was wanted for the soccer team as a goalie (which position I *was* good at). They'd blindfolded me, tied me to the goalie net, and kicked soccer balls at me for a while along with a couple of other high school kids I didn't know. Fortunately (I guess) it was nothing like *this* though. :big:
Pretty imaginative story so far. Maybe I should have made illustrations for it. Oh well.
Dare to be different... and make a difference.
To boldly go where no one in their right mind has gone before...

Re: OUT OF CIRCULATION

Postby xtc » Sun Jul 24, 2011 2:46 pm

Maybe I should have made illustrations for it. Oh well.

Please feel free but you know how picky I am!
Boxer shorts are cool,
but little speedos rule!

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

Re: OUT OF CIRCULATION

Postby Jason Toddman » Sun Jul 24, 2011 2:55 pm

xtc wrote:Maybe I should have made illustrations for it. Oh well.

Please feel free but you know how picky I am!

Yes indeed I do know that very well. :big: But not as picky as some others I work with here and elsewhere.
Dare to be different... and make a difference.
To boldly go where no one in their right mind has gone before...

Re: OUT OF CIRCULATION

Postby sarumansauron » Mon Jul 25, 2011 9:39 am

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

Re: OUT OF CIRCULATION

Postby xtc » Sun Jul 31, 2011 2:41 am

OUT OF CIRCULATION


Let Me Explain – part 3


Justin’s explanation proceeded along side the actions themselves, “I’m about to cut the tape from your arms so don’t move, the knife’s very sharp.” First he cut the Elastoplast that was forcing Matty’s upper arms towards one another. When he pulled it quickly from Matty’s arms it removed some of the sparse body hair above his elbows proving that his gag was still very effective. The involuntary spasm that the act sent through Matty’s body brought him into conflict with the padlock again.

“If you think that hurt, mate, think about all that hair on your forearms.” Justin was right, Matty did have a good covering of hair there or did it just look like that because it was dark against Matty’s strangely pale skin? Geoff grabbed Matty by the arms and stabilised him while Justin pulled the knife all along his forearms cutting both layers. Before Justin pulled the tape free, Sam grabbed one arm and Geoff transferred himself to the other one. Obviously Justin couldn’t pull all the tape free at once but the pain was still excruciating as evidenced by the prolonged, but still muffled, scream trying to escape through Matty’s sodden compression shorts and the generous layers of Elastoplast. Matty’s arms were now bright red and almost totally hairless.

The quaking footballer then heard the next bit of Justin’s explanation. “Now you’re going to be put in goal.”

The consequent question was supposed to say, “How am I supposed to be able to see the ball?” but for some reason, neither Justin nor the others answered him. “Here’s the goal.” And Matty felt his arms being stretched along the crossbar of the five-a-side goal. He had to crouch even more than he’d had to earlier as Justin started taping his left arm to the metal spar. He went from Matty’s wrist pretty well up to his armpit and back again while Paul dealt with his right arm. Once Geoff and Sam had let go, Matty was totally unable to move his arms once more.

“Our goalie can’t be expected to crouch like that while we practice penalty kicks. Good job the groundsman put out the smaller goals for the little kids later on.” Matty was beginning to get some idea of what was about to happen to him: he wasn’t going to be a goalie so much as a target. Justin undid the knot holding the two bootlaces together and handed the ends to Sam and Paul. “We’re going to spread your legs, just to help your stability, you understand” By the time they’d pulled Matty’s legs apart far enough for his shoulders to be in line with the crossbar and his legs straight, they were well over 130 cms apart. Matty was quite a tall boy and considerable “adjustment” was deemed to ne needed.

“Fine adjustment, please.” requested Paul as he tried to tie his end of the lace to the upright. Geoff and Justin tapped Matty’s feet with their feet forcing them even further apart and then Justin’s and Paul’s pulling on the laces as they tied them off forced Matty’s toes sideways, increasing his discomfort considerably.

“I don’t think it’d be fair if the goalie couldn’t see the ball, do you lads?” The general consensus was that it would, indeed be very unfair and Justin’s eyes sparkled as he tired to find the end of the pink tape round Matty’s head. He thought he could pad out the agony by doing that instead of cutting it. Once he had found the end, it took several vicious yanks before the football sock was freed from Matty’s head. The skin on his face was raw and certain sections of the Elastoplast displayed generous quantities of short, dark hairs.

It was still reasonably early in the morning and the low sun shone straight into Matty’s eyes. He blinked himself into reasonable sight again in time to see his team mates lining up many practice footballs. They knew they only had until 10 o’clock to conclude their entertainment because that was when the younger kids would turn up for their five-a-side games.

Before the start Justin asked the condemned man if he had any last requests. Matty made frantic efforts to break free but little possibility of movement was available to him and his incendiary language was totally indecipherable. “No, OK, brace yourself.”

“Hang on a minute, it’s going to be bad enough for him without that fucking great padlock for us to aim at. At least remove that before we start.” Justin didn’t really see why he should but Geoff always spoke with a certain authority which was difficult to ignore. As Justin freed the poor “goalie’s” bruised testicles, he could hear a prolonged sigh even through the gag.

“Say, “thank you.””

The resultant faint “aaaan oo” while Matty hung his head was near enough for no one to suggest replacing the padlock.

“Justin, please tell Matty what’s going to happen.”

“OK Geoff. Matty, let me explain.

-----00000-----


“We each have five practice footballs. We’re going to take turns to place all five on the goal area marker and kick them at the goalie, that’s you. If you save three of the goals, the kicker gets a direct free kick, If you save all five, he gets another direct free kick. Good luck goalie.”

The “players” had already decided an order of play: Geoff would go first, followed by Paul, Sam and Justin in that order. The money was on Justin to get the best score.

Geoff ran up and booted the first ball, at least the four assailants had settled for wearing trainers rather than their boots but Matty was aware that, from that distance, any on-target shot was still going to hurt. Geoff only just missed with his first shot and tried to convince the others that it was supposed to be just a “sighter”. Matty tensed as the ball nearly grazed his side. The next shot caught Marry squarely in the gut, winding him. The loosening of the edges of the tape holding the shorts in Matty’s mouth allowed a minimal amount of breathing through his mouth but still held the stuffing firmly in place.

The next shot slammed into Matty’s chest as did the next one. Geoff had one more chance. Now that He’d got his eye in, he thought he’d attempt to change the trajectory slightly. The ball passed quickly between Matty’s legs, grazing his upper thigh slightly but missing Geoff’s target completely.

“Ahhh! Hard luck mate. One free kick when everyone else has had a go.” announced Justin as Paul lined up his five footballs. His first shot grazed Matty’s other thigh but, mercifully, also missed its intended target and ended up in the back of the net. Matty’s breathing could hardly have been deeper. Paul completely misjudged the next shot and hit Matty straight in the left knee. As the ball bounced back towards the kicker, it counted as a “save”. The next shot went between Matty’s legs and missed him completely so Paul adjusted his aim and both shots hit Matty hard in the chest. Paul also claimed his free kick for later.

At least Matty didn’t have to face Justin yet as Sam prepared his footballs. Sam missed fist to the right and then to the left of the goal-keeper. “He moved!” claimed Sam, disingenuously, about the totally immobilised “goalie” resulting in cries of friendly derision from his mates. Sam made up for it with the next ball which took Matty rather lower on the abdomen than was comfortable. Now that Sam had got his eye in, Matty feared the worst. Ball four missed Matty’s midriff and the last one slammed into his belly.

“Time out.” called Justin, “Need a drink, Matty?” Matty hadn’t been offered either food or water since he had been taken by surprise in the shower yesterday afternoon and he was desperate for a drink and for the toilet, he knew that, if he “disgraced himself”, the pictures wouldn’t be kept secret for long! Difficult decision. Matty regrettably shook his head.

Geoff sarcastically blew his whistle to indicate the start of play and Justin’s first ball hammered into Matty’s midriff. Ball two left a hefty bruise coming out high up on Matty’s right thigh.

“Whoaar! Near! Hard luck mate.” Paul commiserated with his fellow perpetual reserve.

The next ball made an almost symmetrical mark on Matty’s other thigh. Yes, Justin WAS toying with his target. Two more balls to go until his free kick(s) and Matty’s muffled yells reached a crescendo but all such terms are relative. Justin made a play of unnecessarily pacing out his run-up before the ball slammed hard into Matty’s belly. Justin’s mates commiserated with him again. He psyched himself up to address the fifth ball and shot.

“Coorrr! Right in the goolies.”

“Good job you took that padlock off.”

“You would have done better with a bigger target.”

All the following demeaning remarks were lost to Matty who seemed to be making a world record attempt in the “intake of breath” category. Once the congratulatory and insulting remarks had subsided, Matty waited, sagging, legs stretched painfully apart, feet forced sideways, and sobbed supported by the crossbar.

Justin was starting to organise the free kicks. Four footballs were lined up. Matty was hardly even aware any more.

Geoff realised that Matty had had enough and went into a quiet conference with his mates. He had an offer to make to Matty. Let me explain.

-----00000-----


Geoff went up to Matty and explained, “I’m entitled to a fee kick, direct, remember, so’s Paul and Justin gets two. Would you prefer another penalty instead?” The heaving of Matty’s shoulders might – eventually - have worked his arms free but he did manage to nod his head and say what was supposed to be, “yes.”

Matty’s arms were cut free from the goal and, with a cry of, “Timber!” from Paul, he fell on his face. Fortunately for Matty, the adrenaline started flowing and he felt as though he was in slow motion as he managed to break his fall with his newly freed arms.

Justin, Paul and Geoff removed their trainers and socks while Sam cut the tape behind Matty’s neck and explained what was going to happen. “I’m going to pull this tape off and you can push those shorts out of your mouth. You then have to kiss both of Geoff’s and Paul’s feet and lick the soles of Justin’s.” It was just as well that Matty hadn’t quite had his gag removed by that stage or he might have made a very bad decision. “Never mind the noise. If you don’t like it, we’ll spread-eagle you again and Justin will take all the free kicks. He’ll probably earn a bonus one as well.”

Matty lay very still.

“Do you agree or is it the footballs in the goolies again?”

Matty nodded.

Sam pulled both cut ends of the tape rapidly apart and, while Justin lifted Matty’s head, he removed the tape from Matty’s face completely. The soggy shorts still muffled Matty’s cries of pain.

“Spit ‘em out, Superstar.” And Matty worked the shorts from his mouth. Resistance was pointless all the while Matty was still kept in a wide splits and he simply awaited his instructions.

Geoff and Paul presented their feet in turn and Matty kissed them until the kiss-ees pronounced themselves satisfied. Matty’s mouth was so dry that the two humiliating tasks were not the easiest he had ever had to attempt but the alternative, with Justin administering the pain, was unthinkable.

By the time Justin was ready, Sam had collected a chair from the edge of the ground and Justin sat himself on it. Paul, being the smallest, agreed to help his friend, Justin, present his feet for licking. He sat cross-legged in front of his mate who put his legs on his shoulders. Matty was presented with the sweaty soles of Justin’s feet as he looked up.

Nothing was said, everyone just waited for the inevitable. Matty pushed himself up on his weary arms and tried to get away with a very quick lick of Justin’s right foot. Geoff’s foot, pushing his neck down so that his face was ground into the astro-turf, accompanied by another of Paul’s “explanations”, quickly gave Matty the idea that he hadn’t made a very good job of submitting himself and that Justin would put his football boots on if he needed to administer the alternative penalty.

Matty had few tears left as he comprehensively licked both of Justin’s feet to the accompaniment of such witticisms as, “Missed a bit there. It’s toe-cheese-licking good. What’s for pudding, etc.” Justin eventually announced himself satisfied and Matty lowered himself to the ground again. Justin removed his legs from Paul’s shoulders so that he could get up and replaced them on Matty’s shoulders while his friends and he reviewed their plans.

Eventually it was Sam’s turn to say to Matty, “Let me explain.”


TBC
Boxer shorts are cool,
but little speedos rule!

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

Re: OUT OF CIRCULATION

Postby Jason Toddman » Sun Jul 31, 2011 6:50 am

I experienced something like this when I was 14 as part of a prank my cousins played on me, but under considerably less stringent conditions. They did leave me tid up inside the locker room afterard though; the only TUGs I *ever* had on school grounds (after school hours though).
Very good story.
Dare to be different... and make a difference.
To boldly go where no one in their right mind has gone before...

Re: OUT OF CIRCULATION

Postby sarumansauron » Mon Aug 01, 2011 12:53 pm

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

Re: OUT OF CIRCULATION

Postby bman666 » Wed Aug 03, 2011 11:28 am

Another great story by xtc. They are consistantly some of the best on here. Keep up the good work!

Re: OUT OF CIRCULATION

Postby xtc » Wed Aug 03, 2011 1:52 pm

Thanks for the encouragement, folks. I'm off line for a while - saiing over the edge of the world. Alright, then, visiting Kent.

I'll be back!
Do you think I've got delusions of grandeur? :?: :lol:
Boxer shorts are cool,
but little speedos rule!

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

Re: OUT OF CIRCULATION

Postby Jason Toddman » Wed Aug 03, 2011 9:19 pm

xtc wrote:Thanks for the encouragement, folks. I'm off line for a while - saiing over the edge of the world. Alright, then, visiting Kent.

I'll be back!
Do you think I've got delusions of grandeur? :?: :lol:

I think that now YOU are the one who is going to be OUT OF CIRCULATION! :mrgreen:
Dare to be different... and make a difference.
To boldly go where no one in their right mind has gone before...

Re: OUT OF CIRCULATION

Postby xtc » Sun Aug 14, 2011 4:59 am

My thanks to bman666, Jason Toddman, MattyHerich, Sarumansauron and Veracity for their feedback during this story.

Honestly, though, I'm a bit discouraged that, with total viewing figures of over one and a half thousand, (and therefore possibly a total of over five hundred viewers), only five readers have been kind enough to respond.

I have pm’d the final part of Matty’s first day to the above correspondents rather than posting it here. If there is any interest from anyone else in reading the rest of the story so far, please feel free to let me know and I can get around to posting it next weekend.
Boxer shorts are cool,
but little speedos rule!

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

Re: OUT OF CIRCULATION

Postby luckydog3 » Sun Aug 14, 2011 11:46 am

I would love to read the rest. Thanks x.

Re: OUT OF CIRCULATION

Postby bondagefreak » Sun Aug 14, 2011 2:15 pm

This story is very good ! The overall description of events and characters makes it very easy to follow and enjoy.
Congrats XTC on another fantastic story !

Looking forward to reading the continuation !
Image

Re: OUT OF CIRCULATION

Postby Jason Toddman » Sun Aug 14, 2011 2:51 pm

And a very good continuation it is, too. I hope you continue writing on this story. :D
Dare to be different... and make a difference.
To boldly go where no one in their right mind has gone before...

Re: OUT OF CIRCULATION

Postby Veracity » Sun Aug 14, 2011 7:32 pm

Thank you very much for sending me the latest installment, but I hope this doesn't mean you are giving up the ghost. I would be genuinely sad if that were the case.

Re: OUT OF CIRCULATION

Postby xtc » Sun Aug 21, 2011 11:15 am

My thanks to those who have commented.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

OUT OF CIRCULATION


Let Me Explain – part 4


“We thought the little kids coming for their five-a-side session would enjoy meeting a superstar like you. Matty saw his chance here, his team-mates might treat him dreadfully but surely there would be adults with the little ones at their training. They wouldn’t stand by and see him tortured and humiliated – would they? Seeing that glimmer of light in his darkness, he decided to put off his imminent intent to try begging for mercy. If an adult was soon going to help him, at least he wouldn’t have to humiliate himself any further in front of these bastards.

“OK,” said Sam, “time to get you to the bog. If you want a drink, don’t say a fucking word or that gag goes back in and stays in until the next set of guards comes to play with you. Understand?” Matty nodded wretchedly.

It was Sam’s turn to torment Matty and he’d found an old chain that the groundsman previously used to chain-off the car park to stop unwanted parking before the barrier was installed. It was heavy! The links were short and were made of thick metal. Sam had also had plenty of time during the run-up to Matty’s abduction to collect several assorted padlocks.

“Get up onto your knees.” That was easier said than done. Matty was exhausted, hungry, parched and his big toes were still drawing his legs, by now painfully, apart. Matty hoisted himself up using his arms until his backside was sitting between his widely spread legs. “Give me your wrists.” Matty obediently held them out in front of him and Sam wrapped the chain round Matty’s left wrist, hooked a padlock into the end of the chain and then through another link which held the chain tightly against Matty’s wrist. After having looped the chain round Matty’s right wrist, Sam hooked the open padlock into another link before snapping it shut. Matty’s chain left him hardly any movement in his wrists and very limited range of movement in his elbows even though there was a bit of give in both cuffs once Sam had snapped the padlock shut and let go of it.

Sam asked Justin to cut Matty’s right toe free while he wrapped the other end of the long chain twice round the still captive left ankle and padlocked it securely. As Justin’s knife had its effect, it was as if a spring had snapped. Matty’s legs came quickly together and he ended up face down on the ground with a resounding grunt. Sam simply lifted his free ankle and secured it with a third padlock, leaving only about forty centimetres of chain between Matty’s ankles and a whole lot of chain between his wrists and his ankles.

“Right, that should hold you. On your feet!” Matty tried amidst much laughter from his captors for about five minutes but, with so little potential movement in any of his limbs, he was simply not capable of doing so.

He gave up all attempts to remain silent. “Please! I can’t. Honest, I AM trying. I just can’t.” He knelt, head bowed and very close to tears again. “Don’t punish me. Please.” The way Matty was holding his arms to relieve the pressure on them had brought his wrists up in front of him in an almost classic begging position. The video of that would be worth showing to people.

Sam, who was one of the taller and stronger members of the team, hauled the supplicant to his feet and proceeded to lead him forward by grabbing the chain only about thirty centimetres in front of Matty’s wrists. Walking would have been difficult enough with the hobble between his ankles but the heavy length of chain dragging along the ground made making progress even more difficult and uncomfortable.

Sam didn’t bother to blindfold Matty, he wasn’t going to be returned to his previous dungeon. He was simply going to be taken to the changing rooms that the younger players would be using. It took quite some time, especially when it came to negotiating steps but Matty eventually arrived at the scene of his new incarceration and Sam led him to the drinking fountain. Matty made copious use of it. Once he stood up again, breathing heavily and with his mouth open, he didn’t have time, let alone the energy, to avoid having Sam quickly push an aertex ball into his mouth and clamping it in place with his hand. “Make any attempt to spit that out and you’ll be gagged for another twenty-four hours without food or water. Understand?”

Matty nodded and Sam wrapped more than enough Elastoplast round his face to keep it in place. Matty could have raised his hands to try to tear it off. He was selfish but he wasn’t stupid so he made a point of keeping his hands well away from his gag.

“Don’t worry, you’ll get something to eat when we do but not yet.” With that explanation Sam led Matty to the toilet cubicle, still trailing lots of chain behind him and told him to “get on with it.” The “Mnn mnn” sound as Matty raised his wrists towards Sam before trying to show him that he couldn’t reach behind him wasn’t difficult to interpret and Sam released one of Matty’s wrists and re-fastened the other. Sam was obviously in a generous mood. He pulled quite a lot of chain inside the cubicle and shut the door. “Alright, you’ve got five minutes. If I see the chain that’s draped on the changing room floor move, you’re a dead man.”

Matty even risked bolting the cubicle door before attending to business..

When he un-bolted the door and Sam grabbed the chain just in front of his wrist again, Matty wondered why his free hand had not been re-cuffed. It was simply a matter of convenience. Sam led him over to the heated pole at the end of one of the changing benches and made him face away from it. Geoff then brought his hands above his head and behind the pole where Sam Cuffed his wrists close together again. Matty was forced to stand by the horizontal pipe attached to the post well above shoulder level.

“Got a jockstrap, Superstar?” asked Sam and Matty shook his head. “Pity, we’ll just have to use this old one that Justin found in the lost property bin. How long do you think that’s been there, Jus?” Sam held the abandoned support in front of Matty’s face where it became apparent that the answer to his question was “For quite some time.”

“It’s not really big enough so it’s a good job you’re not a “big boy””. Matty thought about his poor, bruised knackers but knew that, if he objected, he would be left naked in front of not only his abductors (it was too late to worry about that) but also in front of the young players. “Look on the bright side; when it’s used to gag you later, it won’t take up as much room in your mouth as a larger one would.” Matty was not much comforted.

Sam got the large, round padlock that had tormented Matty previously and dropped it on the floor where he could see it. “It’s the jockstrap or the padlock. Up to you. If you cooperate, you won’t be naked any more – quite! If not. . . “ and Sam nudged the padlock towards Matty with his foot whilst holding the tatty old jockstrap under his nose.

Matty’s feet were released from the chain and Sam lifted his feet in turn and pushed them through the appropriate gaps before leaving the garment round Matty’s knees. “Hold that for a minute.” and Sam hobbled Matty’s feet once more, passing the chain behind the pole. “Thank you.” Then Sam pulled the support somewhat brutally into place causing Matthew an involuntary vocalisation.

“Uh uh, uh,” said Sam, it’s not too late for Miss. Padlock!” Matthew was still breathing in repeatedly and his muffled squeals subsided as he wriggled around ineffectively trying to adjust himself inside the over-tight garment. Matty’s breathing settled down and, following the initial rather viscious snapping into place of the elasticated support, he found it rather comforting. “Very soon you’re going to be subject to the whims of our younger members. Let me explain.”

-----00000-----


“The little kids will soon start arriving, they’ll see you and they’ll know why you’re hhere. They’ll then go out for their session and return for showers.”

“At least they’ll all be boys” thought Matty as Sam carried on.

“I expect some of them will have something to say to you.” While Sam was explaining this, he proceeded to make a bight in the chain and wrap it around Matty’s waist. A padlock through the end link and through two more links, one above it and one below it soon gripped Matty’s waist tightly, pulling his lower back against the post. A similar, but looser operation fastened Matty’s neck in a similar way. Sam was toying with using yet more of the long chain under Matty’s armpits and round his chest but Geoff pointed out that there were reasons for that’s not being a very good idea. Sam agreed.

“Who’s got the best writing?”

“Not you!”

“I’ll do it.” and Paul found himself with a little pot of enamel paint and a comparatively wide brush in his hand. He started writing on Matty’s chest. Matty tried to figure out what he was writing. And saw the word “BALL” stretching from his right shoulder, across his chest to his left shoulder in quite tall, tidy letters. Paul finished the citation with the word “HOG” across Matty’s abs and stood back to admire his sign-writing.

The younger players started to arrive including Paul’s twin brothers and Justin’s brother. Oh great, just who Matty wanted to see. Once most of the kids were there, their trainer poked his head round the changing room door to chase them up and to see what the fuss was about. Even better, thought Matty: Paul’s dad. He knew what that man thought about him.

“Bloody right too.” he said as he saw Matty. “Come on you lot, get out there and get warmed up.” Of all the adults who could have showed up, Paul’s dad was the last one Matty wanted to see or so he thought until Justin’s dad turned up to chivvy the tardy youngsters. So much for his hope of adult rescue.

“When they get back, they’re going to play a game.” said Sam. “Let me explain.”

-----00000-----


“We’re going to wait until after they come in for showers – those that do.” said Sam in a fairly disgusted voice. “You know, I’ll bet more of them want to stay than usual but don’t worry, Matty: no shower, no play and I expect some of them will have to get off in any case. Look on the bright side. All qualifiers will get to pull a piece of paper out of this football sock – oh look, it’s one of yours. That will tell them what they’ve won. I wonder what they’ll do to you? Take a guess: feed you ice cream, let you go, tell you what a fantastic player you are? Oops, I forgot to put those bits of paper in the sock. Sorry!”

Matty could no longer resist protesting. It’s a good job Sam couldn’t understand what kind of arsehole Matty considered him to be. If he did, there might have been no more Mr. Nice Guy.

“There’s no need to thank me. Got a box in your locker?” Matty got the implication immediately and sadly nodded his head. Sam went and got the one he wore for hockey and pulled the front of Matty’s jockstrap. “This isn’t a cricket support. No pocket.” And he let it snap back against Matty’s abdomen with predictable effects. “Shame, those little kids can be really rough, I just thought you would appreciate some protection.”

“Uuunn!” What a good job Matty was having difficulty pronouncing his consonants.

“Now that’s not very grateful. Perhaps I won’t bother.” and Sam made as if to take the protector away.

“Oh. Come on Sam, don’t be such a dick, the poor bastard cant take much more cock and ball torture. Just shove it inside the support.”

Matty needed the protection but certainly wouldn’t volunteer to have Sam position it again.

The next ninety minutes dragged for both Matty and his tormentors. By the end Matty was shaking. Geoff noticed and wondered whether he’d suffered enough. Then he thought what the others would probably do to him if he even suggested it.

Eventually, seven younger players turned up to shower and change, the others having either been taken home by their parents or having had to get away quickly to catch busses. Once showered and changed, the juniors waited for a “turn” with Matty.

Sam explained to Matty that the younger boys were worried about retaliation if he knew who did what to him so he wrapped his head in Elastoplast once more without the intervening sock this time. “OK boys, line up in order of . . . age.” It took about one minute and an inordinate amount of shouting for the boys to line up. “OK, Matty, you chose, start from the front of the line or start from the back?” There was a pause. “What, no opinion? OK, everyone gets two turns: first we’ll start from the front, then we’ll go the other way.”

Matty’s desperate attempts to venture an opinion were totally ignored and were completely obscured by the triumphal shouts of the little kids in any case. Sam offered the youngest kid the first pick. His lot said “Tickle” “OK, Player Number One, you have five minutes starting . . .NOW!” With his armpits so exposed, the kid’s first target was obvious but he did manage to take in Matty’s belly and the insides of his thighs as well. While Matty writhed and squealed and eventually snorted, the other kids made mental notes for when it might be their turns. “Time’s up!” announced Sam and it must be noted that the young torturer didn’t stop as promptly as he had started. Matty’s feeling of relief was very quickly moderated by the thought that there were six more of them and that they all got two “goes” each. He stood frantically drawing breath and awaiting his next tormentor.

The next boy drew a piece of paper inscribed with the word “Towel”. “Contestant Two, you have five minutes starting . . .(the wait was interminable, especially as Matty didn’t have the vaguest idea of what was about to happen to him.) . . . NOW!” Matty had been there before quite recently as the wet towel found its mark on various parts of his torso. He was certainly glad of the box inside his jockstrap this time.

With that turn over, the next boy picked another “Tickle” lot. With benefit of having seen the previous tickler he made the best use of his five minutes working on the most productive areas of Matty’s body and exploring any places that his mate had not explored. The rattling of the chain added to the noise of a frantic Matty and the noise of the over-excited youngsters enjoying the spectacle. Time was up and the next person was called to the sock.

He pulled out a piece of paper with “Clips” written on it. Sam handed him the collection that he’d been building up over the previous few weeks. The little kid’s eyes lit up as if Christmas had arrived early. Without warning he positioned a crocodile clip on Matty’s left ear-lobe and quickly balanced it up on the right. Having applied three more of the toothed torments to Matty’s nostrils and septum, he spent some seconds just flicking them. Matty didn’t have the vaguest idea who this tormentor was but the little sod did know that he ought to play with Matty’s nipples in preparation for his next attack. Obviously Matty squirmed and wriggled as well as he could trying to avoid the onslaught but it was a vain attempt and two small bulldog clips were soon hanging painfully from Matty’s erect nipples. A further round of clip-flicking preceded the pulling-off of the nipple clips and their re-application and their re-removal, etc. Matty was now feeling very sore and he was grateful that the crocodile clips were opened before they were removed.

He was even more relieved when the removal of the bulldog clips left him without any hanging from his body at all. The relief was short-lived as two of the crocodile clips were fastened onto Matty’s nipples prior to another flick-fest. Sam did stop the kid from trying to put a clip inside Matty’s jockstrap so he found some flesh high up on the inside of Matty’s thighs and put some more crocodile clips there for a while before indulging in a final clip-flicking assault.

Matty hoped there weren’t too many of those lots in the sock as Sam, reasonably gently, removed all the clips still attached to Matty and replaced them in their box.

The next boy drew a “Towel” lot and varied his attack by flicking Matty’s buttocks as well as his front. Other than the “surprise” element of not knowing where the next attack was coming from Matty almost welcomed the whipping. When he compared it to what had just happened to him, the five minutes seemed to pass in an instant. Mind you, the young kid couldn’t resist a late, last flick to Matty’s left buttock.

“Two more to go then we do it all again.” announced Sam as Justin’s little brother drew a piece of paper from the “lucky sock”. It was a “Tickle” ticket and Matty almost relaxed as the assault started. For just a second or two before he was writhing, squealing and snorting again. Five minutes later Matty was sweating and frantically trying to draw breath. His writhing had forced the chain to bite into his wrists and ankles and he really didn’t want to contemplate the fact that, although the next boy was his last assailant, they were all to get another “go”.

“And the next one, right this way, please.” Called Sam. “And the lucky winner is a . . . .TICKLE!” Sam had put more lots in the sock than there were participants so that Matty would stand no chance of knowing whether or not he wouldn’t have to face any particular torture again. This time Matty suffered the embarrassment of actually wetting himself during the prolonged tickling. “Oops! Sorry Matty, forgot the time. Never mind, he’d have taken the next turn too in any case.” Sam’s explanation was not much reassurance.

It was obvious to everyone by now that Matty was sobbing and Sam put his finger to his lips and gestured that the young players ought to leave. In spite of their disappointment, not one refused and no one said anything.

Matty waited for the next assault upon his poor body. Perhaps that was the cruellest torture of all. Once the five-a-side payers had left, the young men of the senior team sneaked out as quietly as they could leaving Matty in Limbo.

Matty stood in chains with his hands above him and capable of very little movement for about two hours before he heard people returning.

“Right,” said Geoff, “your new playmates have started to arrive and they’re about to feed you but only if you behave. Let me explain.”

-----00000-----


Geoff’s explanation revolved around Matty’s remaining silent and not struggling while the rest of them laid into the pizzas that Rory and his team had brought with them (You might have noticed how much consideration that these professional sportsmen paid to avoiding junk-food and adopting healthy eating.) and, after that, he might get something to eat. Matty wasn’t to know that Rory had made sure that there was large, but none too interesting pizza reserved especially for him or that he’d also brought two bananas for him.

Matty sagged in his chains while the garlicky, cheesy and even fishy smells filled the changing room and penetrated his very being. Or so it seemed. Rory, Ben, Matt (not to be confused with Matty) and Phil were in no hurry to finish their lunch; neither were the four young men who had “looked after” Matty so far. When they had finished and slurped the vast quantities of free coke that came with the order, Geoff and his colleagues left making their farewells prolonged and obvious so that Matty would think he had been forgotten until Geoff made his parting shot, “Don’t let my little pony forget his schooling; he hasn’t done any hurdles yet.”


TBC


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

That's the end of "Let Me Explain". If there is sufficient interest in reading the story of Matty's next day's tribulations, let me know. I'll then complete it but there are other projects in the pipeline first.
Boxer shorts are cool,
but little speedos rule!

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

Re: OUT OF CIRCULATION

Postby Veracity » Sun Aug 21, 2011 4:46 pm

I'm glad that you decided to share this with everyone and I sincerely hope you decide to contine the story.

Re: OUT OF CIRCULATION

Postby luckydog3 » Sun Aug 21, 2011 5:00 pm

Noticing lots of humiliation.
Last edited by luckydog3 on Mon Aug 22, 2011 6:31 pm, edited 1 time in total.

Re: OUT OF CIRCULATION

Postby Jason Toddman » Sun Aug 21, 2011 9:21 pm

Do please keep going. :D Leave Matty hanging if need be, but please not US!!! :bondage:
Dare to be different... and make a difference.
To boldly go where no one in their right mind has gone before...

Re: OUT OF CIRCULATION

Postby bondagefreak » Sun Aug 21, 2011 10:41 pm

This last part has been amazing ! Well written, as usual !
Please complete this project soon !
Image

Re: OUT OF CIRCULATION

Postby xtc » Mon Aug 22, 2011 1:24 am

Thank you very much for the support. As I have said, comments are our only reward. I will probably continue this but, as I have said, it's in the queue. I need to get the DA story, "The Hangover", much further along the line in the next few weeks. I didn't think that woud fit here so, in case anyone has not found it, it's on Deviant Art under the name Xtcgm. The better news is that "Blackmail" is also on the rails again. More soon!
Last edited by xtc on Mon Aug 22, 2011 8:57 am, edited 1 time in total.
Boxer shorts are cool,
but little speedos rule!

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

Re: OUT OF CIRCULATION

Postby Jason Toddman » Mon Aug 22, 2011 8:25 am

If xtc doesn't mind a helping hand, here's a link to the first segment of his "The Hangover" story for anyone who is interested; further segments of this story (13 parts on all so far) and other examples of xtc's stories and photography can be easily found by navigation from there. :geek:
http://xtcgm.deviantart.com/gallery/?offset=24#/d37cee7
Dare to be different... and make a difference.
To boldly go where no one in their right mind has gone before...

Re: OUT OF CIRCULATION

Postby xtc » Mon Aug 22, 2011 8:58 am

Thank you, Jason. Much appreciated.
Boxer shorts are cool,
but little speedos rule!

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

Re: OUT OF CIRCULATION

Postby sarumansauron » Mon Aug 22, 2011 1:00 pm

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