The Persuaders

Postby xtc » Sun Apr 03, 2011 7:06 am

This story is set not long after the original "Land Farmers & Sailor Boys" story. The same charcters appear along with a couple of female newcommers.
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THE PERSUADERS


Friday Night


“Alright, you’ve shown us you’re a man; you’ve put up with being staked out by the fire all night and didn’t beg for release even when you wet yourself. You haven’t betrayed your mates. But you still haven’t told us what we need to know! Now we’re in a bit of a hurry if we’re going to catch the other culprits this weekend. So no more Mr. Nice Guys! Understand?” So saying, Jamie took his foot off Tarzan’s cheek and allowed him to look up again.

------00000-----


By now, he really should have known better: if you’re a Sea Scout, you don’t piss off the “Land Farmers” and then walk home from school alone. Tarzan just didn’t think as he left school that Friday night and made for his friend’s place. He’d been in detention (nothing unusual there), a long one (nothing unusual there either!) and was due to spend Friday night with his friend, Budgie, and then go on to Troop activities for the rest of the weekend.

It was a warm evening and, before he left school, Tarzan removed his polo shirt and stuffed it into his rucksack followed by his school trousers which he replaced with the running shorts he’d used earlier in the day. Once he’d removed his black school shoes and socks and put on his lightweight boots and grey Bridgedales, he was ready for the walk. He had to walk because he couldn’t find his bus pass and, in any case, by the time he’d been released, it was too late for it to count and his parents thought that having to walk would serve him right.

As they caught up with him, Tarzan was completely unaware of their presence until Long Tom bent down to speak quietly in his ear. “Don’t try to run. Don’t make a noise. It’s not just Jamie and me; there’s a few more of our Troop very near and they’d all like a little word with you.”

Tom spoke into his right ear just as Jamie hammer locked his left arm up his back. There was no one around and resistance would have been futile. Tarzan was a muscular little kid but, in the presence of Long Tom his stature was dwarfed and Jamie, although no giant, was also larger than he and also had muscles in his spit.

“Submit?”

Tarzan nodded, he knew it was a fair cop, and, more to the point, that he had no chance against these two let alone any others who might be around. Tom un-buckled his rucksack and pulled it off his right shoulder prior to hammering his right arm uncomfortably up his back. Once it was removed completely and Jamie had “re-positioned” his left arm, Long Tom took a short length of rope and tied the middle of it firmly just above Tarzan’s right elbow after having wound it about three times round. Jamie lowered his left arm and Tom bound it in a similar way having brought his elbows to within about fifteen centimetres of each other. That can’t have been comfortable because Tarzan, as his Sea Scout name implies was not built on slim and supple lines. A few more turns around both ropes just inside his left elbow pulled his elbows even closer together as did the final loops above his right elbow and round both ropes again.

“Right, now we’re taking you to your weekend cottage.” explained Jamie meaning that Tarzan was going to be marched to the Scouts’ Cottage where he could be more conveniently interrogated. “Most people won’t even notice that you’re tied up and, if anyone asks, we’ll tell them it’s a game. If they ask you, you’ll tell them it’s a game. You could refuse to co-operate and get yourself freed. The grown-ups will only make sure we let you go and won’t do anything else. It’s your choice: get this over with now or keep watching your back when we have longer than a weekend to get our revenge.”

This made sense to Tarzan who must have known that retribution was inevitable. He just regretted being negligent enough to allow himself to be taken on the way to Budgie’s place on that evening. But at least he was the only one who’d been caught (or so he hoped).

-----00000-----


The Scouts had arrived for their weekly Tuesday evening meeting to find that the Cottage had been visited and “decorated”. The visitors weren’t vandals, the Sea Scouts just wished to make a point. Breaking and entry is illegal in English law but, if entry can be gained without damage, that’s a different matter. Since this incident the hasp on the generator shed has been fastened far more sensibly and the cottage keys stored somewhere else.

Tarzan and some of his fellow Sea Scouts had paid the Cottage a visit. A well produced sign by the gate asked “PLEASE LEAVE YER TRAACTURR’S IN THE CARR PARRK”; good rendition of dialect, piss poor punctuation. A further laminated sign stapled to the door reminded the “Farmer Boys” that “ALL PET PIGS MUST BE LEFT AT THE DOORR.” As if that wasn’t bad enough, once they’d entered the training room, they noticed the white-board. “FARMER BOYS CAN’T SAIL FOR F***” had been very carefully written and elaborately decorated. That wasn’t really fair as any self-respecting scouts, either male or female, in that area could sail and/or kayak as if born to it which, given the coastal locality, I suppose they were. It’s just that the Sea Scouts had won a recent regatta hands down. The final insult was the jar of corn stalks on the table labelled “HELP YOURSELF BUT PLEASE DON’T SPIT THE STUBS ONTO THE FLOOR”.

The “Sailor Boys” admired their work, locked the door, replaced the keys and re-fastened the hasp onto the generator shed. Tarzan didn’t notice that, when he got his screwdriver out of his pocket, his bus pass fell to the ground.

The Sea Scouts got on their bikes and made good their get-away.

-----00000-----


The walk to the Cottage took quite some time and any potential problems were diffused by a cheery, “Good evening” from Jamie or Long Tom or even, under existing duress, from Tarzan. At least Jamie had taken his rucksack for him.

As they entered the Inclosure that surrounds the Cottage, the three boys were joined by Zac and Vic. Vic had a pioneering spar and some rope with him and explained that it was time to re-tie Tarzan ready for later.

“What if anyone sees us?” It was a desperate attempt on Tarzan’s behalf but the answer was obvious. Same as before: it’s a game and, in any case, we’re taking the narrow tracks from now on, the ones that aren’t on the grockles’(1) or dog-walkers’ routes.

Tarzan still knew there was no point in resisting, even as a matter of honour, when he was so heavily outnumbered. Zac took two ropes arranged them side by side and located the middles. Tarzan was forced to kneel and cross his ankles before his elbows were freed. He was then allowed a few minutes to massage his elbows and flex his shoulders.

“Ready, kid?”

“Yea, just get on with it.”

Once Vic had pushed the spar up against the back of Tarzan’s neck, Zac positioned the ropes round his throat. Having passed the ends of one rope above the spar and the ends of the other below the spar and above the prisoner’s shoulders, Zac wound the ropes in counter directions around the spar and tied them together near the right of Tarzan’s neck. He then repeated the procedure on the other side trapping the spar behind Tarzan’s neck firmly but not tightly enough to impede his breathing. Tarzan could guess what was coming and spread his arms along the spar. Sure enough, Zac and Vic took an arm each. After all the years of feuding, taking prisoners and playing “Tied Games” this was a well rehearsed procedure. The ropes were knotted together above Tarzan’s armpits and then wrapped around them three times before being tied off again.

“Oh, come on, boys, you don’t need to do this you know. There’s no way I can escape from all of you.”

“It’s not a question of need. It’s a question of justice.”

Tarzan tried to keep his muscles tensed as the ropes were knotted off and tied round his arms repeatedly as Vic and Zac worked their way towards his wrists. Once his wrists had been fastened, leaving lots of spare rope, Tarzan relaxed his muscles. No use, there was not enough potential slack to enable him to move his wrists towards his body.

Just to be unpleasant, Jamie pulled Tarzan’s polo shirt out of his rucksack and blindfolded him with it.

The poor kid had been effectively crucified and, as the party moved through the narrow passages of the Inclosure, he was often forced to move sideways. Being blindfolded didn’t make his progress easy or comfortable and was the source of considerable trepidation. OK, the Scouts wanted their revenge, but they would make sure that their prisoner never came to any real harm. Eventually the party arrived at the Cottage. Tarzan was exhausted.

-----00000-----


Not having got out of school ‘til about five and having taken at least two hours getting to the Cottage, Tarzan was now thirsty, hungry and absolutely knackered. His captors just left him face down on the ground, after having tied his ankles to a second spar keeping his legs uncomfortably spread, and went into the Cottage for refreshments.

Tarzan was beginning to wonder whether he’d been forgotten. He could hear comings and goings and the sounds of other boys arriving – the casual verbal abuse as they passed him told him as much. He could also hear the inevitable sound of pine logs crackling as the camp fire got underway. He’d started to get spooked and the Scouts’ plan was starting to work but Tarzan, although one of the youngest of the Sea Scouts, was made of sterner stuff. Mentally, he held in there. He couldn’t help thinking, however, about the Land Farmers’ infamous practice of “hanging their guests in the wardrobe” (2). He wasn’t looking forward to that and only hoped that he would be able to hold out for the sake of his fellow “decorators and sign writers”.

There is a stand of stunted Scots pines on the site, only just beyond the camp fire circle, and the Scouts started preparing for the night. They had decided that it was much too fine a night to go for indoor camping and collected various tarps and hammocks from stores. The Twins used a large tarp to form a ground sheet and reflector near the fire and arranged their sleeping bags on it. Everyone else slung their bashas over either hammocks or multimats to make themselves comfortable. This was the kind of camping they loved. There were no adults and there was probably not going to be a lot of sleeping done either. There was even a prisoner to torment.

Once camp was pitched and supper cooked (They weren’t that purist, they used the kitchen’s facilities there) and eaten, they turned their attentions to their guest. He’d now been left on his belly and spread-eagled for an uncomfortable length of time.

Tarzan was forced to his feet and supported on both sides by the Twins. I suppose it was only customary when Jamie asked him who was with him when he visited their HQ because he didn’t really expect an answer, not from this kid.

“OK, suit yourself. Stake him out.” The Twins, Zac and Vic took hold of the ends of the staves stretching the unfortunate Sea Scout tight and carried him, face up to a space between the fire and the improvised camp. Four substantial stakes had already been hammered into the ground ready to receive the visitor. The spare rope ends from Tarzan’s wrists were tied to two of the stakes. Tarzan was hoping that he’d be freed from the stave but no such luck; The Farmer Boys obviously meant business. Loose ends from the ropes tying the spacer spar to his feet were looped round the other stakes and pulled tight, instantly undoing any progress that Tarzan had made in drawing his legs together. Long Tom checked his blindfold and told him that, as soon as he told them who else was responsible for the raid in which he’d lost his bus pass, he’d have his arms released from the spar and allowed some exercise.

“Want to tell me?”

The reply translated roughly as, “Make love elsewhere.”

“OK, last chance for a drink.” offered Jamie, making it seem that the offer was compassionate but, desperate as he was, Tarzan had already been involved in enough TUGs to understand the idea behind the offer. He declined. With that, Tom lodged a knotted piece of fabric into Tarzan’s mouth and tied it tightly round his head.

“As soon as you want to talk, make the effort, push the gag out and talk. If you push it out and don’t tell us what we want to know, Big Steve and Little Joe here (Joe shot Long Tom one of his poisonous looks) will wrap so much gorilla tape round your head that you’ll be picking glue out of what’s left of your hair for a week.”

The Scouts then returned to their sleeping bags and made themselves comfortable but there was obviously no settling down until the early hours. Once everyone agreed it was time to settle, the Twins agreed to keep an eye on Tarzan every so often while Joe wondered how he ought to pay Long Tom back for the “Little Joe” reference.

A peaceful night passed for everyone – except, of course, for Tarzan. He’d been offered no food and his arms had been kept straight for hours. He ached. Even the refusal of the drink that was offered hadn’t worked and he had been forced to wet himself before any of the Sea Scouts was awake. He was a tough little kid and was still determined not to dob-in his accomplices.
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1) “Grockles” Local term for tourists. Usually considered to be the short form of “damned grockles”.
2) “Hanging in the wardrobe” See my story “The Land Farmers and the Sailor Boys”.
Boxer shorts are cool,
but little speedos rule!

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

Re: The Persuaders

Postby hafnermg » Sun Apr 03, 2011 8:00 pm

nice story so far!!

Re: The Persuaders

Postby sarumansauron » Mon Apr 04, 2011 10:56 am

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

Re: The Persuaders

Postby Veracity » Fri Apr 08, 2011 10:11 pm

I had to leave lurking mode to let you know how much I love this story.

Re: The Persuaders

Postby xtc » Sat Apr 09, 2011 8:35 am

Thank you for emerging from the shadows to make this much appreciated comment.
Next episode will probably be posted tomorrow.
Blessed be,
Xtc
Boxer shorts are cool,
but little speedos rule!

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

Re: The Persuaders

Postby xtc » Sun Apr 10, 2011 5:42 am

THE PERSUADERS


Saturday Morning


The Scouts started to waken at an hour at which no other self-respecting teenager would be found stirring and started organising breakfast and building up the fire again. No one took any notice of Tarzan, except to check his security, until breakfast was over. He found new reserves of determination: he’d put up with the torture, he’d wet himself, he hurt, he was hungry and more thirsty than he’d ever been. After all that, he couldn’t weaken now. At least his practice of isometrics let him gain some relief for his immobilised body even if it hadn’t loosened his bindings to any useful extent. Perhaps the Farmer Boys couldn’t .sail for f*** but they surely could tie. The polo shirt had come adrift some time before but nobody could be bothered to replace it; after all, he wasn’t going anywhere.

By the time Jamie had removed the sole of his boot from Tarzan’s face, he was sure that the kid would be broken. No such luck. It was time for subtlety. Enter the Scout’s finest Field General and student of history. He was still only half dressed but duty called.

Long Tom knelt down and spoke quietly to the young captive. He seemed to be giving him a history lesson. “Did you now that, in the Second World War, captured soldiers were often handed over to the women of their captors? It wasn’t considered to be the best way to go. Now, the girls are due in a couple of hours. When they come, they expect you to be given into their care. Does that change things at all? I’ll give you five minutes to consider your position.” Tom then got up and returned to his rucksack to continue dressing.

Five minutes later and Long Tom returned, knelt down and continued in his disturbingly calm manner. “What do you think? Want to tell me who else was with you?” and he slipped Tarzan’s saturated gag down onto his chin.

“Please, I can’t have girls seeing me like this. It’s not fair to involve them.”

“I think that we can decide what’s fair at the minute, don’t you? But don’t worry, by the time they see you, we’ll have taken those nasty wet shorts and briefs off you. You don’t need to worry; they’ll probably think you’re quite cute.”

It wasn’t just the embarrassment of having the girls seeing him in the state that Long Tom seemed to be implying; it was also the fact that, if the girls that he was expecting were to turn up, he would be “standing to attention” at the very thought of being tickle tortured by them. After all that he had been through, his resolve faded.

“It was Budgie and me.”

“There now, don’t you feel better for that?” asked Tom as he offered Tarzan a drink of water. The fabric gag was then untied, repositioned and re-tied tightly in place. Tarzan had been hoping for some food.

Zac and Vic got to work, they told Tarzan that he was going to be taken to a shower where he could get his wet things off and visit the toilet. They untied his arms and neck from the spar and gave him quite a few minutes to massage and shake himself before taking one of their prize possessions, a proper pair of handcuffs, and fastening his wrists behind him after he had removed his t-shirt. Before releasing Tarzan’s ankles, Vic stuck a strip of gaffer tape over his eyes and pulled off his boots and socks. Zac hauled him to his feet where both boys supported him while he regained his balance.

“Ready?” Tarzan nodded.

They took him not to the main shower block but to a sort of shed that had been converted into a wet room as it was easier to prevent escape from there. Jamie gave him his orders as he threw the towel and wash-bag from his rucksack in after him. He needed to slip his hands under his bum, strip, remove his gag and blindfold then do what he needed to.

“Oh, and before you come out, tape your eyes with this and slip your hands back behind you.” Tarzan felt the roll of tape hit him as the door closed. “You’ve only got twenty minutes, get on with it!

It took him a minute or so to slip his wrists to be in front of him before Tarzan managed to remove his unpleasant shorts and underpants and lose his gag and blindfold. He knew that he had plenty of clothes in his rucksack for after his shower and assumed that they would be sent in once the shower had stopped. He revelled in the warmth of the shower and not much less in the use of the toilet. About twenty minutes later he heard voices outside telling him to wrap his towel around him, cover his eyes, replace his gag and get his hands behind him.

“Oh yes, very funny. How am I supposed to wrap my towel around me with my hands chained?”

“OK. Just turn and face the wall.”

Tarzan did so and Zac and Vic entered the wet room. Vic checked that the gaffer tape and gag had been used as instructed and Tarzan felt something coarse and itchy being pulled down over his shoulders and down towards his waist. His arms were extricated from it and he felt something being fastened tightly around his waist. Whatever it was that had been pulled down from his shoulders was then given a few tugs downwards, pulling against whatever had been fastened round his waist.

Vic told Tarzan that real jungle boys don’t wear proper clothes so they had given him something more suitable. Zac pulled off the blindfold and Tarzan looked into the mirror which Vic wiped free from condensation. The Scouts had opened the bottom of a hessian sack making a tube which they had held in place using Tarzan’s own Sea Scout belt, which they’d retrieved from his rucksack, and then doubled over to make a sort of kilt. He was not happy!

Tarzan’s protests were muffled so he tried to expel his gag. Zac clamped his hand over it while Vic explained that, if he had to tape the gag in place, there would be no breakfast. Tarzan’s poisonous look was wasted as Vic blindfolded him again with duct tape. The two Scouts then took their guest and his disgusting shorts and underpants out of the wet room and over to the training room where Scott had left some breakfast things for Tarzan. He was made to kneel and Vick cross-lashed his ankles very tightly forcing his knees wide apart. Tarzan really didn’t want his legs spread while he was wearing just a sacking kilt without underwear. Never mind the potential embarrassment, the damned thing itched in places he wouldn’t want to be seen scratching in public even if he could.

Zac removed Tarzan’s gag and Vic drew a fresh mug of water and carefully fed it to him followed by another one until he said that he’d had enough. Jamie brought him some cereal served it in the traditional way: he poured milk into the little cellophane inner package and fed Tarzan spoonfuls of it.

“Had enough?”

“Please my I have another one?” He didn’t know what, if anything else he’d be offered and he hadn’t eaten since lunchtime yesterday. Jamie served another individual packet without spreading much around Tarzan’s mouth. Tarzan even managed to thank him.

“OK, open up.” ordered Jamie and Tarzan was resigned to having his gag tied on once more instead of which he found the end of a hot dog inserted. He took a bite and squirted copious amounts of tomato ketchup down his chest. He finished the thing with Jamie’s assistance and with some difficulty. “Want a bacon sarnie?”

“Yes, please.” This time the meat was dripping with brown sauce, a fair bit of which joined the ketchup adorning Tarzan’s body. He hadn’t managed to notice the sound of a camera at various times. The last course was a banana before he was offered a carton of orange juice. The “Thank you.” Was perfectly genuine but Tarzan knew that it was too good to last.

Long Tom suggested that it was time to gag their prisoner again ready for when the girls came to look after him.

“You said that, if I dobbed Budgie in, you wouldn’t hand me over.”

“I don’t remember saying that. I only said what we’d do to you if you didn’t tell.”

“You bastard!”

“Now, now, not nice. That’ll cost you. But, unless you’ve got anything more to tell me, I’d hate to disappoint the girls.”

“If I tell, will you promise not to let the girls torture me?”

“No, but at least I know now that there is something you haven’t told me.”

“Shit!”

Tom waited. Tarzan thought. Should he rat and hope for mercy? Should he hold out knowing about the embarrassment to come? He would surely dob-in his other fellow raider inside five minutes at the hands of the girls. He had no choice.

“Alex was with us too. He did the cartoon. PLEEEEASE don’t let the girls have me.”

“We’ll see.” Tom recalled the cartoon they found on the white board. He should have recognised the style; neither Tarzan nor Budgie could have done that so well. “Open wide!”

Tom tied a fresh length of knotted fabric into the defeated boy’s mouth and followed it with three rounds of duct tape. All defiance dissipated, Tarzan slumped and just had to hope that even the Farmer Boys couldn’t be that inhuman.

-----00000-----


It was still early and Budgie didn’t expect his phone to ring that early. He’d had a phone call from Jamie only the previous evening explaining that his mate was all tied up at the minute and wouldn’t be joining him. He became suspicious then. Now his suspicions had been confirmed. There was even a photo to confirm them.

“So what’s it going to be? Do we hand him over to Charlie and Amy or are you going to surrender yourself before they arrive?”

“What about Alex?”

“You really should be more careful what you say. I might not have known about Alex.” Budgie wasn’t very long on thinking. “It’s you I’m talking to. It’s you that needs to be here, stripped off and nicely bound or I might decide that it wouldn’t be fair to disappoint the girls.”

“I’ll need to ring Skip and say I won’t be going with the rest of the Troop.”

“Do it and bring your weekend stuff with you. Be quick.”

Budgie took the point and made his arrangements. Even he couldn’t leave his best mate to the mercy of those two sirens.

-----00000-----


Jamie was practicing his telephone manner that morning.

“Hello, is Alex there, please? . . . . It’s Jamie from the Scouts. . . . Thanks.”

Jamie explained that he knew who was responsible for the raid on the Cottage and that he had already secured the other two culprits. I suppose that was true in a way. Alex said that his mother was “in one of THOSE moods” and that he had to get some overdue coursework done in the morning and look after his handicapped brother until she returned later in the afternoon. He wasn’t even allowed to go to the Troop camp this weekend. Jamie understood Alex’s situation. Everyone did. In the light of that, negotiations elevated to a more civilised plane. Jamie commiserated with his rival but pointed out that honour still had to be satisfied. They came to the agreement that, if Alex hadn’t surrendered by seven o’clock, Tom could give the other two to the girls. Alex was pretty sure that, as long as his mother saw a brilliant piece of coursework, she’d be only too happy to see the back of him for the rest of the weekend.

It was ironic that Jamie’s parting remark to his “enemy” was, “Sorry, mate.” The games mattered, the feud mattered but not as much as the participants mattered when real life intruded.

-----00000-----


While Jamie was issuing the invitations, Tarzan was taken out to a sturdy post in the grounds. Zac and Long Tom lifted him bound as he was and knelt him with his back to it. His handcuffs were unlocked from his right wrist and re-fastened behind the post and his ankles were tied to it as well, denying him the opportunity to sit with his feet in front of him. He was in for a further uncomfortable time and he hadn’t been able to hear the arrangements Jamie was making. All he could think about was what he might be showing to the world kneeling with his knees forced apart; at least it took his mind off his discomfort.

The Scouts busied themselves with things around the site and Tarzan found himself being ignored again. With his being handcuffed, there was no need to check on him very often and there wasn’t much sport to be had from kicking a man who was so far down.

The Twins went with Scott and Vic to receive Budgie at the gate to the Inclosure. They took a long stave with them intending to greet him in the same way they had greeted Tarzan the previous evening. Before long, Budgie leaned forward on his bike to open the gate. By the time he’d closed it again, he knew his fate was sealed.

“Morning, Sailor Boy. Off the bike. Come with us.” Budgie dismounted and Joe took his bike and rode it along one of the better paths to the Cottage while Vic and Scott wrenched his arms up his back and marched him out of sight of the gate.

“That’ll do. Get ‘em off.”

Budgie knew that he had to cooperate and he was prepared for it. Surprise, surprise, he’d even bothered to wear those black budgie-smugglers as underwear. Sometimes the others wished he’d try to get away with wearing something a bit less brief but, with the way he was growing, they’d soon be too tight “under the armpits” and he’d have to get something else. Big Steve packed Budgie’s rucksack and strapped it on while Vic and Scott got down to “crucifying” Budgie. Once his arms had been stretched along the spar, Scott blindfolded him with several rounds of gaffer tape wrapped round a neckerchief. Scott had also brought a personal favourite of his, he’d enclosed a lime in an old football sock which he tied into the stocky kid’s mouth and tied tightly round his head. A few more rounds of duct tape rendered their victim totally incomprehensible and extremely quiet.

Before starting to lead him along the same narrow, unfrequented paths that they’d used to transport Tarzan the previous evening, Budgie had been forced face down on the ground and his trainers were replaced and laced up. He was grateful for that but was in no position to thank his benefactors.

“Right Boy, on your feet.” Budgie scrambled clumsily to his feet, Scott and Vic dragged him, often sideways along the narrow, poorly made tracks with Big Steve acting as lookout. After many stumbles and muffled expletives, prisoner and escort reached the cottage gate.

Budgie has probably never got a cheer like the one he got as he arrived on site but it wasn’t a very encouraging cheer. Now it was time to start the real torment.

-----00000-----


Unbeknownst to the two captives Jamie had contacted the girls and stood them down but promised that there should be an opportunity for them to enjoy themselves later. He couldn’t see Alex escaping from the Dragon Mother From Hell before the evening. That suited the girls: Scouts or not, it was Saturday - shopping called!

Budgie was manhandled towards where Tarzan was kneeling. He could only guess what was happening. The post to which Tarzan had been tied was part of a sort of ceremonial gate to the camp-fie circle. Two very substantial posts marked the entrance and there was a sturdy top lintel that extended beyond the verticals. An attractive piece of joinery topped the whole thing off. I don’t think the Scouts were concerned with aesthetics, they were just glad it was strong.

Budgie was made to stand on a baker’s tray that had been placed between the posts. The spar that stretched his arms was positioned against the upright poles and lashed skilfully into place leaving him just about on his feet.

“Come on, lads. That’s not good enough yet.” announced Long Tom. He’ll work himself downwards over the time that he’s going to be there.” Not the most comforting statement Budgie had ever heard. Vic and Scott threw two heavier ropes over the cross bar near the posts. After little more than a minute they had been hitched round Budgie’s spar and the spar was lashed so that Budgie’s heels were no longer in contact with the baker’s tray and there was no way the spar was moving downwards by more than there would be give in the ropes.

“Armpits at the ready for tickling” as Jamie announced made Tarzan’s blood run cold at the thought of what was about to happen to his companion. At least he wasn’t stretched out. “OK, put him up there with his mate.”

It couldn’t have taken Vic and Zac more than ten minutes to untie Tarzan and turn him into a mirror image of his fellow raider. The two Sailor Boys ended back to back and sharing a spar and a baker’s tray. “Good job they’re the same height.” observed Jamie. Tarzan, who was just a smidgen shorter, begged to disagree.

By the time Zac and Vic had finished, the ropes over the cross beam had stretched a bit and both captives could stand properly again. Tarzan and Budgie were then left on their own for a time while the Scouts made some decisions. Tarzan’s hessian kilt was now irritating not only him but Budgie as well and, with the mutual wriggling, Tarzan became almost paranoid about the wretched thing riding up and displaying whatever he’d got to the world. Blindfolds are really effective torture devices!

Following the planning and refreshment break, the Scouts returned to their guests who were still not convinced that the girls wouldn’t appear. “Prepare them for torture.” ordered Jamie.

“Shit. The bastards.” thought Tarzan. Jamie knew how to torment to the extreme and with minimum effort.

The Twins tied the Sea Scouts’ right ankles to their lefts using sheer lashings that left plenty of spare rope. The older boys complimented them on their rope work.

“Ok, Joe, together now.” called Big Steve and they gently pulled the bound ankles towards the upright posts causing the prisoners to perform quite uncomfortable splits. They didn’t pull so far as to leave their victims feet completely clear of the baker’s trays but it wasn’t far off. The ends of the ropes were then attached firmly to the uprights. They left the crucified boys to “settle” for a while.

Then it happened: the sound they didn’t want to hear. “Hiiii, just visiting.” Tarzan and Budgie both recognised that voice.

“Morning, lover boy.” And that one.
Boxer shorts are cool,
but little speedos rule!

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

Re: The Persuaders

Postby Jason Toddman » Sun Apr 10, 2011 9:48 am

Missed noticing this story until last night. Nice story development. 'JT' would LOVE 'hanging' with these guys - and I mean that literally. :big:
Dare to be different... and make a difference.
To boldly go where no one in their right mind has gone before...

Re: The Persuaders

Postby sarumansauron » Tue Apr 12, 2011 10:10 am

Great continuation! I badly can wait to read the next part. Thanks!
I love TUGS and TICKLING Torture!!!!!

Re: The Persuaders

Postby xtc » Fri Apr 15, 2011 8:43 am

Nice to hear from you again Dominik and thank you. Any news about what's happening to the Forum on TUG Stories?
Boxer shorts are cool,
but little speedos rule!

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

Re: The Persuaders

Postby xtc » Sun Apr 17, 2011 4:40 am

THE PERSUADERS



The Girls Visit



Charlie and Amy had come on their mountain bikes to visit their boyfriends before going to town. Scott and Vic greeted them in their normal fashion and the rest of the Scouts jeered in theirs. The couples just went into the meeting room for some quiet.

What happened in the next hour or so might be recounted at a later date but I think delicacy forbids.

After that, the two girls reappeared laughing.

“Are the boys not with you?” asked Zac.

“No, they’re not talking to us at the minute.”

Nothing more was thought about it as the boys went about their business and the captive Sea Scouts started to get worried.

“Oh, come on, Tom, just five minutes. Pleeease.” wheedled Charlie. She could usually wrap any of the boys round her little finger and had been negotiating to be allowed a little time to torture the prisoners.

“OK, but only five minutes now. No more. – UNLESS Alex doesn’t turn up this evening.”

The struggling in the entrance to the camp-fire circle became frantic in spite of the limited scope for movement enjoyed by Tarzan and Budgie. It’s a good job that the names being used for the Scouts were muffled just in case anyone within hearing range was of a delicate disposition.

“I know, suggested Charlie. First one to make her prisoner giggle or squeal’s the winner. She has to buy the McD’s in town.”

“You’re on, girl.”

The traditional game of scissors, paper and stone decided that Charlie would go first and that Amy could decide whom she should tickle. Charlie was to tickle Tarzan. Not at all the news he wished to hear!

“Come on,” he thought desperately, “think of something really boring: algebra, geography, Spanish, anything!” Although his panic was reaching a frenzy, it was still a matter of honour not to let Charlie make him squeal.

One of the boys pushed the baker’s tray from under the captives with his boot so that their feet could be more easily accessed. Nothing was too good for the girls as the helpless boys continued trying to shout into their gags.

Amy was timing things. “Ready. GO!” and Charlie’s nimble fingers started. Although the frantic and vain attempts at evasion continued, Tarzan tried to maintain a (not very dignified) silence from that signal on. Charlie’s fingers poked round her subject’s armpits, round his pecs and nipples and gradually down towards the belt of his improvised kilt. By that time all attempts to think about algebra faded in a haze of torment and knocking heads. Before Tarzan could experience any noticeable embarrassment, he broke. At the first sign of what might have been a laugh replacing the former strained noises escaping from behind the fabric and tape that impeded Tarzan’s mouth, Amy stopped the stopwatch.

“Four minutes, thirty seconds. What kept you?”

“He’s tough. Let’s see you do better with yours. Ready? GO!”

Amy stared with the insides of Budgie’s thighs. Lots of strained noises worked their way past the lime that was filling his mouth. He seemed to be holding out quite well until she moved down to his feet when a sound not unlike snoring started. Long Tom decided that grunting didn’t count and that Amy should carry on. The writhing and knocking of heads became even more desperate and the grunting got louder and more frequent until Budgie could hold it no longer. What would, without the gag, have been a prolonged scream signalled the end of the contest and the shredded remains of Budgie’s dignity.

“Four minutes, thirty seven seconds.” announced a triumphant Charlie. The Macky D’s are on you!”

After the congratulatory/commiseratory hug, the girls donned their helmets and mounted their bikes.

“Byeee! See you later.” called Amy as she sped off. Amy was a diminutive brunette with long hair which was made to look even more so by her stature. She usually had Vic exactly where she wanted him.

“Byyyye!” Look after my little Scottie.” Shouted Charlie as the girls disappeared from sight.

Even hanging as they were, the prisoners heaved sighs of relief.

-----00000-----


Jamie thought it was time to show mercy and asked the Twins to untie their feet and replace the baker’s tray. With all the struggling to which it had just been subjected, the ropework had settled as much as it was going to and both Budgie and Tarzan could stand in comparative comfort.

“Want your skirt pulled down?” asked Joe and wondered why Tarzan seemed to tense up. Then he thought. “No, I mean should I straighten it for you?” Tarzan nodded and Joe pulled both layers of fabric down against the belt holding them in place not that he was displaying anything but he didn’t know that.

The Scouts had been enjoying the entertainment so much they hadn’t even given a thought to what had happened to Scott and Vic. And now they seemed to be in no hurry to find out. The next activity was log cutting and the Scouts had special permission to deal with a rotten tree that had been felled near the site. Those that had charge certificates for axes felt safer without the two main liabilities being around so no one went looking for them. There was a Forester to watch over the lumberjacks when they reached the fallen tree to ensure safe practice but he let the boys do all the work.

It took a good two hours to break up the tree with saws, axes and brute force and to carry the logs back to site on the old trek cart. By this time Vic and Scott had appeared in the door of the training room. Their friends demonstrated their usual concern for their plight: applause, laughter and derision.

Neither Scott nor Vic was laughing by that stage. They’d just had to struggle from the meeting room where the girls had left them, through the training room and thus outside. Once the laughter had subsided and Zac had removed Scott’s gag, he simply said, “Don’t ask.” So no one did.

The two boys had been tied together back to back. Their right legs had then been forced back and their right ankles tied together. They couldn’t stand and had to pull themselves along the ground as best they could.

Vic had his arms captured behind him and tied together quite high on his wrists before the rope was wrapped securely round his arms preventing any chance of separation. At least he’d been spared having his arms tied to his torso. He had been stripped down to his rather short loose grey boxers and looked as though he’d probably had his socks stuffed into his mouth before someone had swathed his lower head in so much packing tape that the merciful bandage that had been applied first didn’t show. Amy wouldn’t want anything to happen to her man’s lovely hair.

Scott had been gagged with another of the Scouts’ prize possessions. Charlie knew what he liked; she’d used the ball gag that Scott had so often had to wear when “hanging in the wardrobe”. He’d had his hands tied simply but efficiently, palm to palm, behind him and his elbows drawn close together. Someone had then thrust his arms down between Vic’s arms and his back and taken the rope under Scott’s bum and between his legs. It had been pulled tight and tied off to a heavier rope that had been wound several times round the boys’ waists pulling them tightly together. With the rather short boxer briefs that Scott favoured, the crutch rope could have been not only painful but also the cause of some indecency. Charlie didn’t mind!

A wide belt buckled round both the boys’ necks pulled their heads together until they were touching but at least they were spared blindfolds. It had taken Vic and Scott some time even to open the door between the meeting room and the training room and they had to move very carefully if Scott was to be spared unnecessary pain and embarrassment.

Once the others thought they’d had their value out of the situation, Zac freed his friends.

Scott and Vic went to shower and get dressed.


Saturday Afternoon


After the logs had been sorted and stacked the traditional Scout self-reliance was demonstrated. They sent out for pizzas. Joe, the best runner in the Troop, was despatched to the inclosure gate with a soap box cart from a recent competition with a polystyrene insert to await the delivery. His twin went with him to ride shotgun. They returned with the pizzas and with Little Steve who’d just come from his swimming training session.

Following a leisurely, and by now somewhat late, lunch Jamie thought it was time to pay some attention to their guests. Budgie was the first to be offered the chance of a loo break. He accepted. Following the usual dire warnings his arms were freed from the stave and handcuffed behind him before his neck was released. The strap that had recently been around Scott’s and Vic’s necks was then looped around his and used as a lead by Zac. Budgie stumbled towards the wet room accompanied by Long Tom, just in case he made an escape attempt but what chance, honestly? He was given the customary five minutes to attend to himself after Zac, in a moment of generosity, freed his left wrist from the handcuffs and Long Tom had cut his blindfold off. He spent next to no time contemplating an escape attempt; there were more urgent matters to attend to.

Long Tom hammered on the door and told Budgie to handcuff himself again and lie on the floor, facing away from the door, with his feet in the air. He did so and Long Tom and Zac entered the wet room. Tom checked the handcuffs and tightened them to his satisfaction while Zac checked to see that the gag had not been tampered with. Having satisfied himself on that score, he took a long scarf and tied it tightly over Budgie’s face blindfolding him completely. He then brought the ends round the front of his face again, pulled tight and applied a double knot. Budgie grunted; that was uncomfortable. But at least, he thought, it wouldn’t pull his hair out when it was removed.

A considerably relieved boy in black briefs was fastened to the spar again back to back with his companion in adversity. At least this time Long Tom had settled for tying his ankles and knees together rather than forcing him to do the splits. Just to be really annoying he tied his big toes together as well.

“Need the bog, Jungle Boy?” In spite of Zac’s jibe, Tarzan was desperate for any sort of relief. He’d been tied to that stave for most of the time since he’d been captured last evening and any part of him that didn’t ache hurt! The handcuffs were fastened and the same routine was applied to him as had been applied to Budgie. Jamie was well aware that he was finding the going rough and, in spite of the fact that, in his opinion, he deserved it, he thought it was time to extend a token of mercy to the longer suffering Sea Scout. He’d been through his rucksack and found his usual blue Speedos, the square leg ones, and threw them in to him before he had the chance to cuff himself again. For someone who’d been confined so closely for so long it was remarkable how quickly he got them on and the scratchy and embarrassing hessian sack off.

He had handcuffed himself and lain down in the expected manner. He was blindfolded just like Budgie had been and taken across to the post that he’d been tied to before. To his surprise he wasn’t fastened back to back with his fellow prisoner but was simply handcuffed to the upright post. Even his ankles weren’t tied but the Scouts’ compassion didn’t extend to sharing their pizzas.

-----00000-----


While they dined, the Scouts had recapped the situation and some of them did think that, although Tarzan obviously had to be kept hostage against the arrival of Alex, in other respects he had suffered enough. Others disagreed. There was only one way of deciding: trial by ordeal.

Jamie explained the rules to the “contestants”. The competition would be best of three challenges. If Tarzan won, he’d just be kept chained to the post and, as long as Alex kept his word, would then be released. Even Budgie figured out that, if he deliberately lost the competition, the torture would stop and Tarzan wouldn’t suffer any more than was necessary. But that’s not quite how it would work. Jamie continued: for every event Budgie lost, he would be kept prisoner for an extra three hours and handed over to the girls for tickling before he was released. All of a sudden all of Budgie’s sympathy for his mate dissolved. The serious need for self preservation surged to the fore.

Long Tom announced the order of events:
• Bulldog clips. They would be gradually applied to the equivalent parts of each contestant’s body and flicked until one of them begged for mercy.
• Towel whipping. Each contestant would be whipped with the traditional wet towel at least twenty times. The nosiest reaction to each lash would count as a point against.
• If a decider should be needed, the contestants would be tied to one another and the one who managed to reach his given target would be the winner.
At least it would help pass the time!

Little Steve found the bag of bulldog clips and the betting was on Tarzan winning. His muscles were far firmer than the comparatively flabby Budgie who seemed to have more suitable places to pinch than Tarzan.

Tarzan was pulled round the post until he was facing in the same direction as Budgie. Scott and Vic each placed a clip on the contestants’ right nipples. They got the ones on their left nipples even before the original yelps had subsided. “One, two three.” and they flicked both clips at once. Even gagged as they were, the two Sea Scouts groaned in a most satisfactory manner. Vic and Scott then gave way to Zac and Big Steve. Clips were quickly attached to the ear lobes of both contestants and duly flicked. More yelping and more impeded imprecations. “Give in?”

“Ngggg” answered both contestants shaking their heads vigorously.

“OK, now all four.” announced Long Tom before Scott and Vic came back into the action.

Even more desperate yelping ensued followed by further refusals to give-in.

“That must be thirsty work.” called Long Tom, “Why don’t you guys take a break?”

The tormentors then sat back and enjoyed cold drinks from the fridge and just left the contestants to suffer – but not in silence.

No amount of jerking around and writhing during the Scouts’ drinks break served to remove the bulldog clips and the pain just intensified. The Scouts decided that it would not be fair to apply the clips to other parts of the contestants’ bodies because it was unfair on Budgie. How generous they were feeling! “OK, pull ‘em off.” ordered Tom and Scott and Vic pulled the clips from the contestants’ nipples without opening them first. That hurt a bit as the sounds indicated.

Following a bit of ear flicking Tom ordered the clips to be replaced. More squealing ensued and Tom asked if either contestant wanted to submit before he allowed Zac and Big Steve to get back to clip flicking. Both boys indicated that Tom could go stuff himself or, at least, that’s what they wanted to say. Zac and Steve went to work with a will for about ten minutes before Tarzan’s prolonged yell prompted Long Tom to call off the dogs and offer him a chance to submit. Once the flicking had stopped, Tarzan plucked up courage to refuse.

“OK, have it your way. From now on, the clips get pulled off every sixty seconds and then replaced before fresh torturers take over.”

I think Budgie tried to say, “Thanks, mate.” just before Jamie and Long Tom took over torture duties. This time Tarzan didn’t even last three minutes before agreeing that he wanted to concede defeat. Jamie left the clips in place for another three minutes just for fun. Then he pulled them off viciously.

The Scouts decided to give their prisoners a thirty minute break before the next event and discussed whether or not Tarzan should be crucified like Budgie to make tings fair. They never seemed to consider that it would be just as fair to take Budgie down from the stave and tie his hands behind the other gate post next to where Tarzan was chained. Strange that! In the end Scott’s suggestion that they tie their hands in front of them and stretch them both from overhead tree branches was adopted. By now Budgie was certainly grateful to have been taken down from the stave but his gratitude didn’t last long after he was nearly hoisted off his feet by Zac and Scott before they secured the end of the rope around the tree trunk under a handy branch. Tarzan fared no better at the hands of the Twins and soon both contestants could only just touch their heels on the ground. At least Tarzan could walk to his tree whereas Budgie was more or less dragged into place

Blindfolds were checked and tightened, it wouldn’t do for the contestants to be able to dodge the wet towels that Vic had just removed from their own rucksacks, and gags checked. Long Tom tied Tarzan’s ankles, his knees and his toes just to even things up and the contestants were declared to be ready to start.

First go was ceded to Joe and Little Steve who readied their implements and positioned themselves at a suitable distance from their unfortunate targets. “Three, two, one. One!” called Joe and the towels cracked onto the contestant’s backsides.

“Budgie” came the massed cry following the muffled yelps indicating that he made more noise.

“Three, two one. Two!

“Budgie!” Budgie was certainly usually the bigger whinger of the two and so it was seeming so far. Tarzan convinced himself that, if he could flex his muscles on the countdowns, it would help to deaden the pain. Maybe it was working.

“Three, two, one. Three!”

“Budgie” came the massed cry. This was starting to look like a very one-sided competition.

“Change whippers.” called Long Tom and Jamie and Zac took over tormenting duties. This time they positioned themselves in front of their victims and aimed for their bellies. After the first two strokes, Budgie tried to comfort himself with the fact that he was at least an event up on Tarzan already. After the next lashes there were several sharp intakes of breath before the chorus of “Tarzan!” rang through the accompaniment of “whoar” noises and similar and sounds indicating almost sympathy.

“Sorry mate, said Jamie quite genuinely.”

“Low blooow!” said Scott with some relish.

Long Tom called a break. “You OK?” Tarzan’s response was furious and indecipherable but his limited leg movements were unmistakable. “Want to give in?” More muffled imprecations accompanied an emphatic shaking of Tarzan’s head.

“OK, give him a break then next whippers start when ready.” It was Big Steve’s and Scott’s turn and Long Tom reminded them to “Watch out for his dick this time. Even he doesn’t deserve that.” With the score standing at 5 – 1 in Tarzan’s favour, Steve and Scott decided to take aim at the contestants’ chests. “Three, two one. Seven!” The jury decided that honours were even this time but the next two prize-winning yelps counted against Budgie.

“Scores stand at 7½ - 1½, change of shift. Who hasn’t had a go yet?”

“Just you and me.” said Vic as he took the towel from Scott. “Front or back?”

Long Tom indicated “back” in such a way that the captured Sea Scouts could not guess the direction form which their attack would come. Vic gestured against his own body asking whether they were going to go for the shoulders, the buttocks or the thighs. The decision was “thighs” and the two boys got to work. This was becoming a rout.

With the score at 10 – 2 Jamie offered Budgie the chance to concede. He declined so Long Tom announced, “Two strokes each, Little Steve and Joe go first.” The next round started. It was scored at one – all. Was Tarzan weakening?

With the score at 11 – 3 Zac and Jamie decided to go for bellies. It dawned on Zac that Tarzan in particular would not be too pleased about that following his previous encounter with Jamie and announced their intention very clearly. Two strokes each and four yelps later the score stood at 11 – 5. Zac was right: Tarzan was not looking forward to that part especially when he felt the towel whipping him at the top of his Speedos.

The last two rounds were shoulders and thighs once more. The writhing was probably not as spectacular as it had been previously probably due to the increasing exhaustion of the contestants and the fact that the sheer discomfort and lack of mobility caused by standing stretched so tight precluded it. Nevertheless, the score ended at 14 – 6. One event each.

The Scouts weren’t exactly disappointed that a decider would be needed.

“Come on lads,” suggested Jamie, “it won’t be much fun if they don’t get any recovery time before the next event. We can’t leave them like that for too much longer.”

Everyone agreed and Long Tom flipped a coin to see who would be rested first. Budgie won.
Last edited by xtc on Sun Apr 17, 2011 7:34 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: The Persuaders

Postby Jason Toddman » Sun Apr 17, 2011 7:30 am

Fun as usual. It helps that the cast is small enough so that I can can track of who is doing what to who. :D
Dare to be different... and make a difference.
To boldly go where no one in their right mind has gone before...

Re: The Persuaders

Postby luckydog3 » Sun Apr 17, 2011 4:48 pm

I sincerely hope that Alex doesn't make it.

Re: The Persuaders

Postby xtc » Mon Apr 18, 2011 6:43 am

What a nasty thing to say :big: !
Thanks fro the reply, LD3, long time no hear.
Boxer shorts are cool,
but little speedos rule!

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

Re: The Persuaders

Postby sarumansauron » Mon Apr 18, 2011 9:40 am

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

Re: The Persuaders

Postby xtc » Tue Apr 26, 2011 9:05 am

Oops! I forgot to post this so thanks to Topher95 for his contribution.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

THE PERSUADERS



Some Small Relief


Zac and Scott released the rope lifting Budgie’s arms above his head and dragged him over to where an iron ring had been anchored to the base of a small pavilion in the grounds. It was usually where visitors had to leave their dogs. The handcuffs came into play and Budgie’s right hand was cuffed to it. He was told that he could remove his gag and blindfold and untie his legs and toes. Zac and Scott then went to get Tarzan. As long as he lowered his face to the ground, Budgie could untie the scarf that had been tied round his eyes and pull the tape from round his mouth. He managed to pull the lime from his mouth and leave it hanging round his neck. The untying of his legs was more problematical but he set to it just as Tarzan arrived. The handcuff that had been locked around the metal ring was released, passed through the ring and attached to Tarzan’s right wrist. Tarzan started to remove his gag and blindfold and got determinedly to work on his legs. The two prisoners really got in one another’s way scrabbling round on the ground trying to release themselves but they eventually managed to do so.

They knew that, if they were to stay free from the awful gags they had been wearing for hours, they’d better speak very quietly.

“Sorry mate, I had no choice. You know what they were going to do to me.”

“Yeah, It’s OK. How’s the dick?”

“Doesn’t sting so much now. Shit, why did I lose that bus-pass?”

“Don’t worry about it; we’ll get our revenge in the summer holidays. Sam’s got a plan for his last game before he goes away. He wants to leave Jamie and Long Tom something to remember him by.”

“What’s that?”

“Tell you later.” Budgie had seen the Twins approaching.

Big Steve and Joe had brought camel packs which Budgie and Tarzan accepted gratefully. They were also given a whole pasty each which had even been brought up to temperature in the microwave. Even though the Sea Scouts had to eat one handed, the pasties hardly touched the sides. Before leaving the prisoners again, Joe left a couple of apples within reach.

The prisoners had no idea of the time and could only wait for themselves to be called to their third ordeal. Aching muscles were stretched and flexed as much as they could be with one hand chained to within a few centimetres of the ground. Rope marks were massaged and jaws exercised. And the girls arrived.

“Hallo, sailors!” called Charlie as she rode past the chained boys towards the training room with Amy.

“Sorry, girls.” announced Jamie, “Alex has until seven to get here. If he doesn’t make it, they’re all yours!”

Charlie and Amy went across to the captives and started flexing their fingers whilst looking their potential victims over comprehensively. Tarzan made a vain attempt to think about algebra.

After a minute he thought “Fuck dignity”, and pleaded, “No, please, I’ll do anything, please!”

“Ah, but he’s so cute.” said Amy. “Can I torture him this time?” If this carried on, there would be no point in trying to think about algebra even before they started. It was unusual for Budgie to be the more stoical of the two but Tarzan was convinced that he would not be able to take his punishment without suffering extreme embarrassment, especially dressed as he was.

“Sorry girls, I’m afraid there’s another event before you get your chance. That poor kid couldn’t win. He’s had to stay and be tortured even though some of us thought he should be released and there’s one final event.” Long Tom and Jamie were closing in along with Zac and Scott.

“Ahhh, pleeeease!” the girls knew their job.

At that moment Jamie’s phone went. “Yeah --- Where are you? --- Keep coming and wait at the inclosure gate. We’ll meet you there. You know what you have to do.” Alex was afraid he’d be late and rang to try to save his friends from any unnecessary torments.

“Well, looks like bad news, I’m afraid, girls. Looks like Alex is on his way.”

“Ahhh, what a shame, I’ll just have to torture this one instead.” said Charlie taking Scott by surprise, tripping him up and hammering his arm up his back. “Help me, Amy.” In very few minutes Charlie had her boyfriend tied in the rope he’d brought for the prisoners and helpless at her feet. Some of the others didn’t think Scott had struggled very much. Neither did he.

“Now to make up for my friend’s disappointment, where can we find Vic?” asked Charlie as she tied her boyfriend to a nearby tree by his neck.

Vic could have chosen a better time to visit the toilet but not as far as Amy was concerned. These two were devious, they’d developed an ambush technique of which any of their male colleagues would be proud. They went into the gents and waited, one each side of the stall with the locked door. They could move far more quietly than the boys and were subtle enough to be used as Mata Hari’s in gathering valuable intelligence during the feud. This ambush was well laid.

Vic appeared from the trap, still adjusting his trackies and immediately found himself face down with a foot on each shoulder and a pain in his nose. There were times when he wished he was possessed of a greater stature and this was one of them. The girls had taken his arms in painful locks which they stressed against his joints until Vic submitted.

“That’s better, I do so abhor violence.” lied Amy as Vic allowed his wrists to be bound. With these two, being bound was one thing, getting free was completely another. They were thorough and not many of the male Scouts could escape their tying in anything like a time that left them any self-respect. With a quick flick of the exposed waistband of Vic’s underpants, Amy announced herself to be satisfied. The two girls then dragged Vic into the meeting room (he was getting used to this) and hogtied him while they went to collect Scott.


Saturday Evening


In the light of developments, Long Tom had to think on his feet. Scott and Vic were likely to be otherwise occupied for the foreseeable future, there was a “guest” to receive, a hostage to release and another one to entertain for a while longer.

The decision was to shelve the third ordeal and to leave the prisoners as they were in the care of the Twins on the understanding that, if they misbehaved in ANY way, the Twins would crucify them and hand them over to Amy and Charlie who would happily leave their boyfriends for an hour or so, to contemplate how much they were missing them, while they tickled the prisoners well beyond the point where they wet themselves.

It would have been lame to have put Budgie and Tarzan on their honour not to escape so the current decision seemed to be a quite acceptable one to all parties. The captives were determined not to provoke their guards in any way.

That left Little Steve, Zac, Long Tom and Jamie to greet Alex. They collected their equipment and headed towards the inclosure gate. When they got there, Alex had already arrived. He’d already shed his rucksack, t-shirt and footwear but was still sweating from the demanding run he had undertaken in his determination not to be late in order to prevent his fellow raiders suffering unmentionable tortures at the hands of the Scouts.

“You’re late, Sailor Boy.” announced Zac, smirking at the thought of the penalties that could be levied.

“Leave it out, mate. He’s here.” said Will in a manner that invited no contradiction.

The implications dawned on everybody and, after a few awkward glances, it was business as usual.

“Trousers off.”

Alex always had trouble with the side-straps on his cut-off combats but he had favourite clothing and was reluctant to throw it away. They dropped readily to the ground leaving him in just his red “Urban Spirit” boxers. He hadn’t even waited at home long enough to change once he’d got his release from his mother.

“Want to put them back on?” The look said it all. Alex didn’t expect mercy from his captors and didn’t want their pity; he’d been caught fair and square and, having done the crime, now expected to do the time. He knew his turn would come next time around.

“On your knees.” Alex knelt and crossed his ankles and Long Tom and Jamie tied his arms securely along the pioneering pole. “Face down.” Alex fell forwards with a grunt as his torso hit he ground. “Feet up.” Little Steve replaced Alex’s walking shoes and Zack pulled him back onto is knees. “Got some clean socks?”

“In the rucksack. Right hand pocket.”

Jamie got the socks from the rucksack, replaced one of them and picked Alex’s sweat-soaked t-shirt from the ground. “Open wide.” Alex found one of his lightweight marino explorers rolled and stuffed inside his mouth. H e couldn’t help wondering if it would actually be breathable when he was trying to breathe through it! A couple of rounds of gaffer tape held it in place and the nasty, clammy sweatshirt was tied over his eyes.

Little Steve went in front with Alex’s rucksack and Zac brought up the rear as Jamie and Long Tom manhandled Alex along the narrow, seldom used paths towards the Cottage.

Once Alex had been brought onto the premises, he was quickly crucified between the gate posts as Tarzan and Budgie had been previously. He found himself standing on the baker’s tray while the stave was fastened into position but, once it was removed, he could barely reach the ground with the balls of his feet. He regretted the grunt that escaped his gag as the tray was removed from under him. He thought it let down his, self perceived, hard-man image.

It had been well over twenty-four hours since Tarzan had been abducted and by now everyone thought that he had paid the penalty. He was made to lie face down while Joe tied his elbows behind him. Big Steve released him from the handcuffs and locked Budgie’s left wrist into the vacant shackle. Budgie was not best pleased at having his wrists chained behind him when he would have been just as secure if Joe had locked them in front of him. Big Steve then tied Tarzan’s wrists and lifted him to his feet. Having been led back to his rucksack, Tarzan was made to sit down as his boots were replaced. Once he was standing again, his rucksack was strapped onto him and his t-shirt from the previous evening was re-tied round his eyes.

The Twins were tasked with releasing Tarzan and they took him back along the deserted tracks to just inside the inclosure gate. The rucksack was unstrapped and Tarzan’s elbows were freed. “OK, your choice: shout for help or work yourself free. It shouldn’t take too long and you’re out of sight of the main tracks. It’s up to you what you tell your mum about why you’re home early or you can try joining your Troop.” There was no choice. He would certainly not want to be seen like that by a non combatant, especially an adult, so he would struggle to free himself. Fortunately, Big Steve hadn’t made that too difficult. He would try to join his Troop and hopefully find out what Sam had planned and start plotting his revenge.

In little less than half an hour Tarzan was free and dressed from his rucksack. He jogged off as fast as his exhausted body would take him and about two hours later he had rejoined the Sea Scouts.

-----00000-----


That evening the Scouts had two guests to accommodate. They thought that Budgie could use the “bed” that they’d prepared for Tarzan the previous night but there was still some discussion about what to do with Alex who was determined to tough things out without looking soft. Under other circumstances he quite enjoyed being tied up but he didn’t have any idea how long he would be kept like that and wasn’t too sure about what his hosts would do to him in addition to the crucifixion.

The Scouts decided to use the same unsettling tactics that they used on Tarzan and pretended to ignore Alex completely while going about their business. No-one was taking much more notice of Budgie who’d been left on his own not far from the gate but some distance from where everything was going on. He hadn’t been told when he would be released and hadn’t been able to hear the discussions about where he should sleep the night. No-one was coming near him except when Little Steve and Joe left the site for an evening jog. They ignored him on the way out but, as they returned, Budgie could hold out no longer.

“Please, what’s going to happen to me?”

“Did you hear something, Steve?”

“Sounded like a Sailor Boy whining to me.”

“Come on, you bastards, I’ve been here for hours now. I’ve done my time, I’ve been crucified and tortured with Tarzan and left here sitting on the ground nearly naked with my hands cuffed like this for at least two hours. Can’t I go yet?

“I think Jamie said you ought to stay at least as long as Tarzan so you’ve got hours to go yet.”

“That’s what he said and besides, you’ve been there for nowhere near two hours yet. We’ll let you know when.”

So saying the runners, who were bare-chested by now, jogged on to take showers.

-----00000-----


Very shortly afterwards the girls appeared leading their boyfriends behind them and offering to fix supper. Or, at least, offering to make Vic and Scott prepare supper. Charlie was leading Scott on the end of a short rope tied loosely round his neck. He was wearing his voluminous green board shorts but, presumably, nothing else. “Scott said some very naughty things in there.” explained Charlie as if she’d needed an excuse to gag him with a stick wrapped around which what appeared to be his red Calvin Kline boxers could bee seen. His elbows had been tied together behind him and finished off with a nice bow.

“Don’t you find all that a bit embarrassing?” asked Big Steve.

“Ngo, ngo.” Answered Scott shaking his head. He knew that there were compensations.

Amy had her man subdued in a similar manner except that he was in cropped combats and appeared to have a ball of some sort taped firmly into his mouth. “Kneel down please, pet.” asked Amy in a voice as though she was talking to a small child. Vic considered refusing but one look into the little brunette’s face changed his mind. He could think of the disadvantages of refusing.

“OK, you too.” ordered Charlie pulling violently on Scott’s lead. Scott quickly took to his knees. “Tell me you love me.”

Scott looked up into her eyes. “Aaa guugh oo”. He knew the rules.

“Right, what do you want these two skivers to do towards supper?” asked Amy.

The indignant “Mmms” of protest were immediately quelled by the girls. It wasn’t helping with the supper that got to them, it was being described as skivers when they had no choice in the matter.

Zac said supper was to be hot dogs and that Vic and Scott could just get on with it. The girls decided that proper camp supper had to be prepared on an open fire so Vic and Scott were sent to fuel the cooking fire. That was no easy task with their elbows tied but they did their best. They brought the kindling for the girls to arrange and light and then handed them the increasingly larger pieces of wood from the wood pile. Before long the pine logs were blazing and the others were getting underway nicely. Before long the fire settled down to a steady glow and the boys were ordered to get on with making supper. While the girls watched admiringly.

Vic couldn’t quite see how he was going to do that unless someone untied his elbows so he knelt down in front of Amy and managed to persuade her by his use of body language that he’d appreciate it if she could see herself clear to untying him. “Alright, lover boy, but only because you asked so nicely.” Amy undid the ropes and warned Vic that, if his hands went anywhere near his gag, he’d not be getting any supper. Vic nodded.

“I suppose you want to be untied now as well?” asked Charlie. Scott looked quite sad as he resignedly nodded his head.

Vic and Scott set about their tasks. They even looked as if they were smiling. The rolls were buttered, the Ketchup was brought out in an industrial-sized bottle and the onions were fried in a huge, blackened frying pan. The smoke blackened Dixie very quickly came up to the boil and the hot dogs were nearly ready.

“Anybody want salad with it?” asked Amy. The answer was short and predictable; the Scouts didn’t have the equivalent of T-Boy to have encouraged them into decent dietary habits. Let’s face it, some of Zac’s burnt offerings could have graced a pagan temple.

Scott and Vic took orders and served their girlfriends who told them to take orders from the boys and to serve them. By then most of the others had taken folding seats and positioned them by the eternal campfire. Scott and Vic had to walk over, take their orders, go back to the cooking fire, customise the hot-dogs to order and deliver them, and any seconds, - and thirds – to the rest of the troop. The look on Vic’s face as he was made to serve Joe said, “If you dare tell ANYONE about this, Big Steve’s going to be an only child!” Those eyes that Amy loved so much could project real fire when necessary.

“Everyone had enough?” asked Charlie. Scott and Vic knew better than to try to reply. “OK, you two, get your gags off and help yourselves.”

“But no shirts!” insisted Amy. Scott didn’t mind that but Nick never felt at his best half-dressed, especially when standing beside Scott.

Vic and Scott removed their gags and laid into the hot-dogs.

By the time they’d eaten enough to satisfy them, the others were into the cake and squirty cream well before it dawned on anyone that they might feed Budgie and even Alex.

Jamie asked Zac and Little Steve to take Budgie to the loo and get him ready for the night. They went over to where he was seated on the ground with his back against the little pavilion and gave him the choice: either co-operate and be taken to the toilet handcuffed after which he would be fed, or there was the other way. Looking at what the Scouts had with them, the other way seemed to involve a gag, a blindfold and chains. They didn’t say anything about doing without supper but even Budgie figured out that they’d be unlikely to remove any gag almost as soon as they’d applied it. Budgie opted to co-operate.

Once again a visit to the wet-room was arranged and its occupant emerged handcuffed, blindfolded with a football scarf and pleading along the lines of, “Oh, come on lads, I said I’d co-operate, there’s no need for the blindfold.”

“How about blindfold, gag and no supper?” asked Zac. Budgie shut up and hung his head as he was led over to the stakes where his ankles were secured closely to two of them, spreading his legs uncomfortably and leaving him lying on his back

When Scott came over with the hot dogs to the staked out boy, he realised how difficult it would be for Budgie to sit unaided but how difficult it would be to feed him if he couldn’t. He called Vic to help him and Vic lifted Budgie by his shoulders and sat down back to back with him. That gave Jamie an idea. Scott fed Budgie and gave him water from the usual hydration kit. Once Budgie said he’d had enough, Vic stood up, Budgie fell backwards with a slight yell and Big Steve came over equipped and ready to finish staking him out.

“Just gag him and leave him for a while,” called Jamie, “but make a good job of it.” The others couldn’t figure out why but it was obvious that Jamie and Long Tom had been plotting something. At least Steve had found a clean football sock even if he had inserted a lemon into it making it somewhat larger than the lime gag Budgie had had to wear earlier. Budgie simply submitted as Joe supported his head so that his twin could jam the gag in place and double-knot it tightly behind his head. Budgie let out a despairing, “Nggggh” as gorilla tape was wrapped three times round his face forcing the lemon further into his mouth and holding the device very firmly in place. A cruel double nipple-cripple applied by Joe tested the gag and the Twins announced themselves satisfied. “Try rubbing the blindfold off and I’ll tape that on as well.” said Big Steve as the Twins departed.

All the Scouts went into a huddle as Jamie explained the plan. By now all the Scouts had replaced their shirts against the cooling night air and the camp-fire had been fuelled to its usual excessive size. At least Budgie could enjoy the warmth from it.
Boxer shorts are cool,
but little speedos rule!

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

Re: The Persuaders

Postby Jason Toddman » Tue Apr 26, 2011 12:14 pm

Tgese stories bring back some memories. The circumstances around my own adolescent TUGs were somewhat different vut there were many similarities too. :D
Dare to be different... and make a difference.
To boldly go where no one in their right mind has gone before...

Re: The Persuaders

Postby xtc » Tue Apr 26, 2011 12:21 pm

I hope you enjoy the ghostly traces. Thanks for your constant support.
Boxer shorts are cool,
but little speedos rule!

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

Re: The Persuaders

Postby sarumansauron » Tue Apr 26, 2011 12:29 pm

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

Re: The Persuaders

Postby xtc » Mon May 02, 2011 5:04 am

THE PERSUADERS


Bed Time


Alex had been so determined to do a good job on his schoolwork so that his mother would let him go out and had then been so occupied by looking after his brother that he didn’t even stop to eat. He hadn’t eaten since breakfast and hadn’t had anything to drink for over eight hours. His favourite new hiking socks, or at least one of them, had just about dehydrated his mouth completely and his almost total immobility, coupled with the stretching to which his crucifixion had subjected him, was straining him more than he would have previously believed possible.

Stoical as he was, Alex was beginning to get cold and had begun to hurt some time ago and even the quiet man of the Sea Scouts considered begging for relief. He decided that it was time to start begging. Before he had to drop his tough-guy front, however, Jamie’s plan was put into action.

“Let’s put the ginger to bed” heard Alex as voices approached him and he heaved a sigh of relief. Perhaps he wouldn’t have to beg after all. He even felt the baker’s tray being re-positioned under his feet. That took a lot of stress off his arms and allowed him to bend his legs a little.

“Your little mate’s got a bit of difficulty sitting up. We thought you’d want to help him.” explained Jamie. By now, Alex’s favourite old t-shirt had come adrift and he could see what was happening quite clearly. Jamie looked his prisoner over. “Need a drink?”

Alex nodded and Jamie called for someone to bring the camel pack over while he cut the gaffer tape that was holding the sock in his mouth. Joe waited until Jamie had removed the sodden sock and the ginger kid had exercised his jaw and vainly licked his lips.

“Here.” It was a moot point as to which of the two runners, Alex or Joe, was the more taciturn.

“Got something for the Sailor Boy to eat?” called Jamie and Zac arrived with a couple of jumbo hot-dogs complete with onions and swilling in mustard. Alex preferred ketchup but he wasn’t arguing. Following a couple of souvenir photos of Alex’s mustard-adorned face and chest, Scott offered a fresh gag to Alex’s mouth. Honour demanded that Alex try to refuse it but, even standing firmly now, his armpits were still cruelly exposed and, following an assault on them from both sides which caused his legs to jump up and down in his failed attempt to avoid an open-mouthed laugh, Scott drove the fruit-loaded gag home, while Vic held him by the hair, and tied it. All was lost and Alex didn’t even try to resist as the gorilla tape forced the lemon further home.

“Shame we don’t have another pair of handcuffs so that we could treat them equally.” opined Long Tom as he and Jamie started releasing Alex’s arms from the stave that had held him virtually immobile for so long. They looked at their prisoner and quickly decided that he needed some massage and stretching time before his neck was finally detached from the stave. Alex swung his arms as best he could and massaged his aching muscles for about ten minutes.

Once he had stopped, Long Tom asked, “Ready?”

“Enngh.” answered Alex nodding his head and bringing his wrists behind him. Tom quickly bound his wrists temporarily and Jamie blindfolded him with an old football scarf, “just to match his mate”.

Alex’s neck was untied from the stave and he was led across to the stakes where he was made to sit. His position was adjusted along with Budgie’s until they were back to back supporting one another. The Twins then tied Alex’s ankles and stretched them towards the remaining two stakes. Unlike Budgie, his ankles couldn’t reach the stakes. A Scout belt wrapped tightly enough round their necks to stop them separating quickly followed.

“In a minute the Twins are going to release your wrists.” explained Long Tom, “Then you’re going to link arms with one another. Any attempt at funny stuff and whatever you’re wearing comes off for the night. Got it?” Both the Sea Scouts nodded slightly before the Twins set about their task.

Alex and Budgie obediently linked arms; the difference in their heights didn’t count for much all the while they were sitting on the ground. Big Steve moved round to be in front of Alex and his twin faced Budgie as they pulled on their arms before starting to tie them. The Twins must have been practicing their artistic tying skills as they both set about doing things in exactly the same manner. First a clove hitch was tied in the middle of a rope round one wrist followed by four counter turns before the rope was tied off again. The wrappings were then evened out so that the clove hitch was loosened enough not to cause too much pain later. The doubled rope was then taken across the victim’s belly to his other wrist and wrapped round it four times before being tied off. During this process the Twins checked each other’s prisoner to make sure that both were positioned more or less symmetrically. The doubled rope was then passed back across the victim’s belly and the start of a rope cuff was wound round the four strands until the two seated boys arms were, in the opinion of the Twins, “pulled tight enough but not too tight”. They knew their guests would have to endure being tied for the whole night and didn’t want any serious injuries, not even to these two. In the light of such consideration, the plans going through Alex’s head about what he was going to do to them at his first opportunity were, perhaps, a little uncharitable.

Job done, Big Steve then suggested that both he and his twin needed a bit more kip than last night and that someone else could keep an eye on their prisoners’ safety – and security! They then went to get a couple of bashas and two hammocks to sling in the pine trees. Joe had learnt the hard way what happens if you sleep under pine trees with no covering. They left last night’s reflector for whomsoever needed it.

Following some discussion, during which the girls pointed out that they hadn’t brought outdoor sleeping requirements with them and so, for once, they were going to take a sneaky bed in the small hostel on site and that Scott and Vic could wipe those silly grins off their faces because they were not welcome to join them, Scott and Vic found themselves volunteered for guard duty.

George had been absent on family business but saw no reason to miss out on punishing the raiders completely and arrived after having had to run about three kilometres from the nearest drop-off point just in time to see the prisoners being put to bed so he finished off the remaining hot dogs and Zac offered to share his basha with him.

As everybody prepared for bed, George and Zac got a couple of chairs and joined Scott and Vic for a quiet, friendly chat into the small hours. The chat was interrupted every so often as someone went across to check on the prisoners or, more commonly, settled for throwing pine cones at them until they got a reaction. With a final banking up of the camp fire, the four friends eventually retired but not before Scott made a final check on Alex and Budgie.

Scott noticed that the blindfolds had, predictably, fallen off but he didn’t bother to replace them. He knelt down and spoke quietly in Alex’s ear, “This doesn’t count as pay-back for what you did to me when I was a hostage for the Twins. That’ll come later.” That was sheer hypocrisy really as Scott was always the most enthusiastic tie-up subject of the Scouts but honour would have to be satisfied at some time and Scott wouldn’t like Alex to think that he was off the hook. Besides, with any luck, his revenge might go wrong and he’d end up being tied himself!

Having examined the Twin’s work and satisfying himself that Alex would remain tied to Budgie until at least breakfast time, Scott made the prisoners an offer. “I don’t want to have to stay awake all night to make sure you’re safe, neither does Vic. If I remove your gags do I have your word of honour that you won’t shout or try to plot your escape?” With those lemons forcing their jaws apart both boys nodded enthusiastically if in a somewhat restricted style. Scott got his penknife and cut the tape holding the gag in Budgie’s mouth and peeled it back from the sock. The next move was brutal but effective: the tape removed certain amounts of Budgies black hair but was completely detached from his head. The lemon managed to stifle some of the noise. After that, the sock was quickly untied and the lemon wrenched from Budgie’s mouth. “Need a drink?” Budgie wasn’t falling for that one. A similar process soon allowed Alex to exercise his aching jaws but his hard-man front wouldn’t allow him to scream like budgie did. He also refused the water.

Scott had still not replaced his underwear and in what was for him an unusually coy move, he took a clean pair into the wet room and swapped them for his board shorts. Thus attired, he climbed into his sleeping bag and tried to take Vic on in the “he who drops off last has to listen to the other one snore” contest.

Scott lost.


Sunday Morning


Jamie had put himself on breakfasts; no-one could face another one of Zac’s. He’d decided to keep his “mop-head” hairdo out of his eyes by gathering it in an a elastic band so that it stood up on top of his head. He said it made him look like a Samurai. The others said it made him look like a girl.

By the time Jamie had got into the kitchen, Vic had risen early and re-gagged and blindfolded the prisoners before returning to his sleeping bag so that no-one would notice that Scott had been compassionate towards them even if he did have ulterior motives. Scott was still sparko having had to listen to Vic snoring for several hours before “accidentally” poking him in the back with his elbow.

Long Tom was enjoying an early morning stretch and scratch wearing just his white Y-fronts before putting on his football shorts. He wandered into the kitchen and put the kettle on while he and Jamie discussed forthcoming events. George and Zac were next up and headed for the showers wearing just their boxers. The fact that there were ladies present didn’t seem to bother the boys at all. The girls were next up and they headed for the showers as well. Gradually everybody else, except Scott and the prisoners, arrived in the training room ready for breakfast.

Everyone started on the cereals and fruit juice until the Jamie Special started to appear from the kitchen: piles of sausages and bacon, baked beans, baps, butter, tomato ketchup and mushrooms. In spite of the fact that Jamie hadn’t managed to poison any of them yet, some of the Scouts avoided the mushrooms because they knew that he’d found them on the way. “What’s wrong with oysters? They’re not even rubbery once they’ve been cooked? You’d pay a fortune for them in Tesco.”

Once everybody had finished and George and Zac had taken some food to the prisoners before giving them water and re-applying the gags and blindfolds, a fair way was required to decide who was to do the washing up.

“Belching contest, losers have to wash up.” suggested Scott who had been the last to arrive. That met with general approval but not total acceptance.

“Alright, alright, don’t bother.” called Charlie as the repeating noises started. “We’ll do it.” The girls didn’t normally do more than their fair share of the domestic duties but it was about their turn and they could take a hint.

The boys got chairs and arranged them in a semi-circle round the prisoners. They’d discovered the snag with sitting in a circle and bombarding helpless guests before, this way any ricocheting ammunition was less likely to hit one of their own men.

“Right,” announced Zac to their bound victims, “last one to yelp gets first use of the bog.” The Scouts then lobbed pine cones at Alex and Budgie who desperately tried not to yell. As the missiles hit their targets, the two bound boys jerked and pulled against one another increasing their already considerable discomfort. This was good value entertainment and it must have taken five minutes before an unfortunately accurate cone hit Alex in the nuts. “One hundred and eighteeeee!” Even he couldn’t hold back the squeal of anguish.

It was time to separate the two prisoners so that Budgie could enjoy his prize so the Twins, Little Steve and Scott collected what was needed and got on with things. The belt that was holding the prisoners together by their necks was unbuckled, Budgie’s wrist cuffs were undone completely and he was allowed ten minutes recovery time on condition that he didn’t make a move towards his ankles. Meanwhile the rope between Alex’s wrists was pulled until he had been turned over to be face down when two hefty metal stakes were driven in with a sledgehammer leaving him spread-eagled quite tightly.

While Budgie was handcuffed and his ankles were released from the stakes, Scott thought it would be a good idea to reassure Alex that he wasn’t going to be neglected. He placed his right size-eight Hi Tec Explorer between his shoulder blades and asked, “You remember when you held me and Little Steve hostage the other week? And you did all those nasty things to A-Man? The mummy, the paintball gun? Well, perhaps I picked up some ideas. Remember when I was only allowed a sleeping bag liner to wear? Remember how my arms were tied when I was dragged to the Log Cabin? Remember tying me to that shear-leg? Remember forcing me to drive in my own stakes?” With each question and sometimes just for emphasis Scott pushed his foot downwards into Alex’s back and twisted it a bit. At the end of the “reassurance” Scott removed his boot from Alex’s back and placed it on his neck. “Enjoy!” and he screwed his boot round a bit before removing it.

Alex got the impression that at least he wouldn’t be bored.

Before long Budgie returned from his morning routine still handcuffed, blindfolded and gagged. He knew it would still be about seven hours before the Scouts would even consider releasing him if he was to be kept for as long as they’d kept Tarzan and he wondered what his hosts had in mind for entertainment. The Scouts needed a holding position so Budgie was taken over to a fence and made to kneel down by a spar that was just above his kneeling shoulder height. He arms were forced over the bar and another of the Scouts’ prize possessions was pressed into action: a metal set of stocks with loops at the ends just big enough to accommodate someone’s ankles. When fitted to Budgie’s feet, it kept them separated by about sixty centimetres. Joe then roped both Budgie’s wrists and removed the handcuffs before he and Big Steve tied the other ends of the ropes to his ankles, lifting his backside off his heels. That left Budgie in a most uncomfortable kneeling strappado position.

“OK, as long as your mate doesn’t spend too long attending to himself, you won’t be there for too long.” With that, the Twins went back to join their fellow Scouts.

On seeing Budgie being brought out of the wet room, Little Steve collected the handcuffs while Scott untied Alex’s ankles. “Now, are you going to slip your ropes under your bum or are we going to do it?” Alex dutifully wriggled until he’d manage to pass his feet through the rope cuffs and the connecting link passed his backside when he lay face down waiting. Little Steve apologised for not being able to give Alex any massage time but they didn’t want to leave his wrists and ankles completely unfettered. There was really no point to the poisonous look Alex tried to shoot his captors; the blindfold impeded it completely but the accompanying grunt spoke volumes. Alex was handcuffed and his ropes removed before he was escorted to the wet-room and seated on the pan so that he wouldn’t have to search for it. One cuff was untied and the traditional threats were issued.

Once Alex had been returned to kneel beside his younger companion he was told that, in the afternoon, he would help the younger Scouts with their tying skills but, until then, he’d have to help to look after Budgie. Helping with the tying skills didn’t sound too bad, after all, he was considered to be pretty good in that respect himself but what did Long Tom mean: look after Budgie?

-----00000-----


George removed the stocks from Budgie’s ankles allowing him to close his legs and kneel higher thus somewhat relieving the developing pain in his arms. Once Scott’s ankles had been locked into them, he could have the handcuffs removed and take his turn to bend, stretch and massage his arms.

By now Alex’s attire was looking rather the worse for wear and was providing few advantages to him so Jamie asked, “Want to change those knickers? Alex nodded. “Word of honour you won’t escape?” Alex nodded. Both boys knew the implications. Once he was released, Alex could just walk off the premises. If he did so, however, it would be for the last time. Budgie would then have to serve not only his own penalty but would also serve as a whipping boy for Alex. It would also be social death.

The newly fitted stocks were removed and Alex was allowed to remove the blindfold. He was now completely unfettered except for the gag inside which, since the loo break, the lemon had been replaced by a more merciful foam ball and which was no longer taped into place. His red underpants did indeed look the worse for wear and Alex asked, not too distinctly but understandably enough, for permission to go to his rucksack to get some swimming trunks. Permission was granted on the condition that they weren’t very long ones – prisoners had to dress “appropriately”. The rules were well understood. With Zac and George riding shotgun, Alex was escorted to where Joe had stowed the bag. Alex retrieved a pair of tight-fitting swimming trunks, not briefs but not long enough for the Scouts to refuse permission for him to wear them. He turned his back on his escort, dropped the sad-looking boxer-briefs and pulled the black trunks into place. They had a blue stripe down one side and a blue waist-band at the front.

Alex signalled that he was ready by holding his wrists crossed behind him. He was surprised to have his offer refused and to hear George telling him to hold out his arms. Alex complied and George wound four loops of a doubled rope between his wrists, which he had positioned to be about thirty centimetres apart. Alex realised what was about to happen and knew he was still on his honour not to resist until he had been restrained once more. George continued his task. He fed the free ends of the rope through the bight near Alex’s right wrist and tied off around all the ropes. The binding continued, gradually drawing Alex’s wrists slightly closer together as the rope cuffs were formed while George worked neatly towards Alex’s left wrist. The rope was tied-off just inside Alex’s left wrist and a couple more counter loops were twined round the wrist before George tied-off with a reef-knot.

George then pulled Alex’s arms around a bit to even out the tensions; he knew Alex was going to be in those cuffs for quite some time. Alex quickly figured out that, as long as nothing else was done to his arms, he could flex even that short cuff far enough to be able to reach the knot with the fingers of his right hand. What was going on? Zac had brought a bandage with him which he wrapped tightly round Alex’s eyes until it was all used up. He then taped it into place with plenty of gaffer tape. Zac was obviously in a god mood!

Alex thought that his word of honour had probably just expired. So did Zac. He quickly forced Alex’s hands over his head until they were behind his neck and his elbows wide. A bootlace looped between Alex’s wrists and across the front of his neck held his wrists firmly in place. Even if he squeezed his elbows towards one another he wouldn’t be able to protect his still hairless armpits from attack. Was that what was in store for him?

Just to increase his unease before they took him to his eventual fate, George ran his fingers up the insides of Alex’s thighs and, while he doubled up and tried to avoid an impending tickling assault, Zac attacked him from his armpits all the way down to the waist-band of his trunks. There was no way even the stoical Alex could remain unmoving during an unavoidable tickle attack but, fortunately for him, it was soon over and Zac hooked an alarming finger down the front of his trunks and led him back to where Budgie was kneeling, his body even more exposed to any potential tickling attack than Alex’s had been.

Alex was instructed to kneel and cross his ankles until they were ready to deal with him. In the meantime, Budgie’s blindfold was replaced with one like Alex’s, one that would be much more difficult to slip off than the scarf had been. Budgie’s gag had also been replaced with a foam ball but he’d made the mistake of trying to eject it before he was taken from the wet-room; so he could look forward to picking out the glue from a generous application of gorilla tape from the short hair at the back of his head after he’d been released.

At this stage the girls came past with Scott and Vic who had somehow managed to negotiate remaining clothed and free from ropes. “Now can we tickle the ginger?” asked Amy. They had no intention of doing so but Alex suddenly tried to sum up the probability of success if a bound, gagged and blindfolded, nearly naked boy tried to outrun two determined and unfettered harpies. He decided his chances were less than zero; maths was not Alex’s strong point. He decided that, at last, it was necessary to resort to begging.

He expelled the gag and just about got as far as, “Pleeease!” before Zac clamped a size fourteen hand over his mouth. “Naughty, naughty, and after we were so generous with that gag earlier”. Alex was writhing against being restrained by Zac and Long Tom but it was pointless; Zac squeezed his nose until he calmed down. “Going to be quiet?” Alex nodded reluctantly.

“Don’t worry, we won’t let those nasty girls have you. Well, not yet. We’ve got something else in mind first.” Alex didn’t like the “first” bit. “Gag him again and tape it on this time.” instructed Long Tom and the sock was tightened around Alex’s face before Zac taped it into place. Alex submitted and knelt still.

What Alex didn’t know was that Scott, Vic and the girls soon had to go. Scott’s mum was taking them to the climbing wall in the afternoon and they needed to strike the boy’s camp, tidy the girl’s illicit hostel room and go home to change first. The girls were soon done and onto their bikes and off. The boys took longer but they did arrange for Vic’s dad to pick them up from the nearest access point.

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

Sorry I didn't make my customary Sunday postings. Beltane celebrations left me in a not very fit state for making sensible editorial decisions!
Boxer shorts are cool,
but little speedos rule!

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

Re: The Persuaders

Postby sarumansauron » Mon May 02, 2011 12:21 pm

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

Re: The Persuaders

Postby Jason Toddman » Tue May 03, 2011 12:12 pm

As usual; sounds like fun; wish *I* was there - at least, as another kid! :D
Dare to be different... and make a difference.
To boldly go where no one in their right mind has gone before...

Re: The Persuaders

Postby xtc » Sun May 08, 2011 7:32 am

THE PERSUADERS


Sunday Sports


That left Alex sweating even though the morning sun was not yet at its zenith and Budgie hoping he would gain some relief soon. The next news was not good.

“Hallo, sailors.” greeted Jamie as he announced that he’d come to explain the next game. Alex and Budgie didn’t like the sound of that. “First, the two of you will be tied together so that Alex can look after Budgie. Second, some vandals have littered our site with pine cones. You two will pick them up and put them in this bucket.” The hapless “players” could hear something being dropped. “And now for the prizes. Budgie, we thought we’d release you at about one o’clock. Alex, you’re not due to go until about half past ten.” Alex had figured that out already and knew that, by the time he’d run home, his mother - and her boyfriend - would have brewed up a treat. He was unlikely to see sunlight, outside of going to and from school, for a month. He could always try begging but that didn’t go very well just now so it became more important to save face. “You can only use your hands to put he cones in and can’t move the bucket. Every fir cone you get in the bucket wins one of you a minute off his time. Understand?”

There were many questions to ask but no opportunity to do so. Both “players” nodded unenthusiastically.

“You know, it’s a shame, If we hadn’t needed to gag Budgie with tape this morning, he would have been allowed to speak during the game. As it is, Alex will need to be able to see so that he can look after Budgie. As soon as you want to stop, just come over and kneel in front of Long Tom. OK, who wants to do the tie-up?”

It was decided that Little Steve and George should have the privilege as they hadn’t had as long to participate as the others. The Twins would, as usual, have liked the honour but they agreed that the decision was only fair.

Budgie was untied and allowed to stand again, even though George held him firmly by the arms, and Alex was instructed to stand, which he did and waited with trepidation to see under what conditions he would have to operate. Little Steve removed the ropes from Budgie’s wrists and he was made to stand in front of Alex and facing away from him. The bootlace holding Alex’s wrists in place was cut allowing Alex to lower his hands in front of him. The players were forced together and Budgie’s arms were threaded between Alex’s arms and forced to hug his body so that his hands ended up behind Alex’s back where Little Steve handcuffed them. That left the boys very close coupled and it was only the difference in their heights that avoided the worst of the possible embarrassments.

Alex just felt the opportunity for untying his wrist cuffs fall away as his wrists were forced apart by Budgie’s arms. Cunning, these Farmer Boys. There was minimal movement possible between the two but Budgie’s relatively short arms fitted tightly round Alex’s muscular torso and, if he strained too much, the cuffs dug unpleasantly into his wrists. It then dawned on Alex that Budgie would have to pick up all the pine cones as his own hands had been trapped uselessly between the two players.

“Right, ready to play.” announced Long Tom. “Take your time.” And he cut the tape holding the bandage round Alex’s eyes. The bandage slipped off easily.

Alex’s first problem was how he was going to communicate with Budgie. First they had to get to where they had been tied between the stakes overnight where most of the pine cones were. At least their captors hadn’t tied their feet. Alex clenched his arms and leaned backwards to raise Budgie from the ground and more or less lifted him over to where they needed to be. The next manoeuvre was going to be unpleasant however Alex managed it. He pushed is knees into the back of Budgie’s knees so that both boys ended up kneeling but obviously Budgie’s hands were nowhere near the ground. The resultant grunting gave the lie to those scenes in films where even the most flimsy gag seems to be able to silence its wearer efficiently. Alex then caused both players to fall to the ground - more grunting – and Alex forced himself to roll so that Budgie was on top of him. Budgie certainly seemed to have something to say but he soon realised what he was feeling with his fingers.

The sight of Alex wriggling on the ground with Budgie draped uncomfortably over him seemed to be entertaining the Scouts enormously but the activity was entertaining the Sea Scouts less so. Alex felt his partner scrabbling around with his hands and the fir cones rubbing against his back. “Ngg?” he asked. It was the tone of voice that mattered.

“Ooef” answered Budgie nodding his head. He had managed to gather about six fir cones.

Alex now had to figure out how to get the cones to the bucket which Jamie had left over the other side of the site. He could try rolling all the way but he thought that Budgie wouldn’t be able to hold on to the fir cones if they did that. Instead, he rolled until Budgie was underneath him and both boys struggled, with difficulty, to their feet. Budgie held on to his treasure.

“It’s alright,” assured Zac, “it gets easier with practice.” Two boys didn’t think that was very comforting.

“But more difficult as you get knackered.” added George.

“Uk ooo” answered both players in unison as Alex guided Budgie to the bucket.

The sweat on the players’ bodies had attracted a considerable amount of dust to adhere to them which was high-lighted by grass stains across Budgie’s chest and Alex’s shoulders. By the time they had got to the bucket and performed a sort of “Bunny dip” so that the fir cones wouldn’t stand as much chance of missing, five minutes must have passed. Alex did his best to look behind him and gave Budgie a “Nne nowe” signal which he hoped would be interpreted as “let go.” It worked.

“Go on. There’s lots more yet.” goaded Zac before the bound boys returned to their task.

“Unngh!” replied Alex. Every one understood that even though he was gagged.

“No, he’s not one of them; them’s useful!” corrected George, grinning. Zac slapped his mate round the head before he could duck.

The novelty was wearing off after about half an hour and Little Steve decided to take pity on their victims. He moved the bucket nearer to where the fir cones were lying. That confused Budgie at first as he could have no idea that it had happened.

After about an hour Alex was exhausted from trying to guide Budgie to the fir cones, to the bucket and back but he wasn’t one to give up. After another half-hour, the minor abrasions had got to both boys and Budgie’s handcuffs were digging into both of them. Alex could see that Budgie had just about had it. He couldn’t explain to his partner but Alex had decided to signal the end of their efforts. If he refused to do so and just stopped, he felt sure that Zac or Long Tom would have ways of persuading them to kneel as required that they would not enjoy.

Alex manhandled the younger boy over to where Long Tom was sitting still clad in just his football shorts but with the addition of a pair of flip-flops. “Nggeuw ngow.” instructed Alex as he put his knees into the back of Budgie’s knees and knelt himself. By the time Alex was kneeling, Budgie’s feet were out in front so that he was sitting.

“Not good enough, boys. You both need to kneel. And that language won’t be necessary, thank you. Either Budgie kneels as well or we’ll start pelting you with pine cones from the bucket again – before they’re counted.”

“Unngh!” declared Budgie this time.

“That’s two of you, then.” remarked George, “Perhaps they’re right.” This time he remembered to duck.

Alex knelt upright while Budgie struggled to bring his legs round outside Alex’s legs. That left his knees spread and Alex unable to sit on his heels if both boys were to remain kneeling. Alex was glad that the Scouts didn’t make a speciality of making videos of their prisoners like the ones Sam made when the Sea Scouts had the upper hand but he did notice some photographs being taken. With prior planning the two victims could have made less uncomfortable arrangements but how were they to know?

“Ready to stop?”

“Mmmm mmm.” Nodded Alex. So did Budgie when he realised what was going on.

“Ask nicely.”

That look from Alex should have warned Long Tom of what lay in store for him if he ever ended up at Alex’s mercy, but who cares; he was on top at the minute.

“Weeeze, aaay eee ooogh?” Tom thought that sounded enough like, “Please may we stop.” and not too much like anything abusive that he said that, as long as Budgie asked nicely as well, of course they could stop. He was insufferable in victory.

“Come on, Tubby, beg.” encouraged Zac. That wasn’t entirely fair now that Budgie was working out and losing his previous, somewhat generous, figure but fairness has nothing to do with the treatment of enemies in the feud.

Budgie resisted begging until Alex thrust his abdomen forwards with some urgent “Mmm mmm” noises. The other thing that persuaded him was the first fir cones hitting him on his briefs.

“Think that was good enough, boys?” asked Jamie. The general consensus was, “No”.

“Properly, please.” Budgie became more determined to be understood next time and the Scouts magnanimously agreed that that Alex and Budgie could stop begging.

-----00000-----


Little Steve started to count pine cones. The result was ninety-three fir cones, two pebbles and a snail. “Let’s call that ninety dead.”

Both the erstwhile players knew better than to dispute the decision even if they could make themselves understood. There would be opportunities to pay Little Steve back in the future. Let’s face it, those three minutes were theirs by right and Steve would have to pay for robbing them.

Jamie appointed Long Tom judge while the Scouts decided how the ninety minutes should be distributed between the players. The Twins both thought that each prisoner should be given forty-five minutes off their sentences. Initially, the others agreed. Zac thought that Alex should get more time off than Budgie because he had to do all the planning, George agreed. Little Steve thought that Budgie deserved more because he had actually collected all the cones and put them in the bucket and because, not being able to see, he had got the worse of the treatment both from the Scouts and from his partner.

That just left Jamie to speak. He suggested that everyone knew that Alex was already going to be in deep shit when he got home and that he should be given the full ninety minutes off his “sentence”. With Alex’s colouring, the blushing was difficult to see but the flesh between the freckles certainly did colour up more. There was much sympathy for that point of view. The Judge needed to make his decision. Vote? Democracy? Who said anything about democracy?

“I want to hear what the prisoners have to say.” announced the learned judge. What followed might have been expected from Scott or Action Man or even Tarzan but from Budgie it came as a total surprise. Perhaps the little guy was learning about loyalty and friendship.

Joe pulled the tape roughly from Budgie’s head, causing the predictable protest, and dislodged the gag leaving it hanging on his chest. Big Steve gave him a mug of water and Budgie started. “Give it all to Alex, he surrendered when he could probably just have left Tarzan and me to suffer in his place. He needs to get home; I know his mum – and her boyfriend. Give him a chance to earn an earlier release.” This wasn’t helping Alex’s hard man image but, all the while he could say nothing about it, he found himself having to agree.

“Finished, Sailor Boy?”

“Yes . . . . Sir.” By now Budgie would try anything to protect his older fellow Sea Scout. He was becoming a team man.

“Gag him please, Joe.” Joe undid the soggy gag and repositioned it before tying it very tightly into Budgie’s uncomplaining mouth. He grabbed the gorilla tape and started unwrapping it.

“Don’t bother,” called Jamie, “he’s earned some mercy surely?”

The judge agreed and a disappointed Joe gave Long Tom another of his looks as he put the roll down again.

“I don’t think we need to hear from the ginger. I grant the tubby kid’s petition.” Hadn’t Tom noticed the way Budgie was getting trim? Of course he had; he just wanted to be insulting to his helpless prisoner while he couldn’t protest.

“Let’s think, how can we give Alex a chance to earn more time off his punishment?”

“Wrestling, if he can beat Will, Zac or Long Tom, we give him half an hour off.” Alex nodded enthusiastically and tried to say, “Yes”, even though any of the three would almost certainly steam-roller him; especially in his current state but he was willing to give it a try.

“Shut up, Sailor Boy, no-one’s asking you.”

“Yea, you don’t get a say.”

“Or even an “Mmmph”, said George giving him a clip round the ear. George was another name to be added to the death list thought Alex.

“I’ve got a better idea.” said Long Tom. “The little kids are due to arrive soon. Couldn’t they all wrestle Budgie so that he can win Alex some time off? We can think of some way of handicapping him.“ One of the reasons Budgie still wore the black swim-briefs for tie-up games was because he thought they made him look like a wrestler. He knew these kids, he could take any of them easily. “How about it?”

Budgie nodded thoughtfully as he tried to predict what dirty tricks the Scouts might play on him.

“Shut up, Duracell, like we said, you don’t get a say.” Alex was trying to indicate that Budgie shouldn’t agree to be his champion because there had to be some treachery in Long Tom’s nasty mind. The “Duracell” reference to Alex’s hair, (The battery with the copper-coloured top) was acceptable from his mates but he didn’t appreciate it from George who just didn’t know when to stop digging.

The three youngest participants in the tie-up games arrived during these deliberations and sat in on the arrangements. Frenchie was tiny and Braniac was tall for his age but skinny. Rusty might have been able to hold his own against Budgie on a good day but didn’t really have the experience. In spite of their reservations, they were becoming team men and were only too willing to pitch in. Of course they’d brought their briefs, there were going to be tie-ups, weren’t there? They went to the showers to get ready for wrestling.

By the time the three wrestlers had returned clad in their briefs and flip-flops and carrying their towels and water bottles to sit in the chairs provided for them by Little Steve, Budgie and Alex had been separated. Budgie, who was still blindfolded, had his wrists cuffed behind him again without the option of massaging his arms or wrists and was made to kneel near to where the bouts were to take place. Zac marked out a rough ring with what he assumed was chalk; the fact that it was ant powder didn’t seem to impair its function at all.

Alex, who wasn’t blindfolded but who remained efficiently gagged, had his knees forced up between his arms before Big Steve thrust a stave between his arms and the backs of his knees. The rope cuffs Alex was still wearing meant that the position was not as strict as it could have been but, with what he’d recently been through, Alex could have done without it’s being any stricter. He was allowed to face the action but was warned that, if he so much as twitched too noticeably he would be blindfolded without anything between the gorilla tape and his hair and his wrist cuffs would be tied down to his ankles.

Once everyone, except Alex and Budgie, had made themselves comfortable in the sunshine, Jamie outlined the rules. Firstly there would be a match between Budgie and Rusty. The Scouts thought that it would be a fairly even match with Budgie having a slight advantage on a good day but, with the black-briefed Sea Scout in his current state, most gave him no chance whatsoever. The Sea Scouts would have placed numerous bets by this stage but that wasn’t the Scouts’ practice.

Straight after that, Budgie would have to wrestle both Braniac and Frenchie together. Each boy that Budgie defeated would earn Alex half an hour off his imprisonment and any who beat him would cost Budgie half an hour on his own sentence.

“Last chance, want to change your mind?” Budgie shook his head furiously.

-----00000-----


Zac marked a scratch line and Budgie had his gag and blindfold removed before being called up to scratch with Rusty. Big Steve unlocked his handcuffs and Rusty agreed to Budgie’s having a few minutes to massage his arms and wrists.

“In the red corner, Rusty the Red.” announced George who didn’t believe you could have a wrestling bout without proper announcements. Rusty jumped up and down wearing just his red Speedos to applause from the audience. “And in the loser’s corner, Budgie the Black.” The audience booed. Budgie didn’t bother to react. He was sizing up his opponent and still trying to shake some life into his poor, tortured arms. “This fight will be the best of three falls or submissions or one knockout.” MC George knew that a knockout was very unlikely, that wasn’t the style of wrestling the boys approved of; they liked to fight but they fought safely. All four wrestlers knew that, if they cheated, someone would sort them out later.

Long Tom and Jamie had already decided that rounds would end on a score but not otherwise.

“Wrestle.” called George, who seemed to have appointed himself announcer, referee and time-keeper.

In all honesty, Budgie didn’t stand a chance against the younger and not all that much lighter boy. He’d already been weakened and deprived of sleep and Rusty had him pinned in less than four minutes. George decided that a two minute break was warranted and Little Steve offered Budgie a drink of water which he accepted. Rusty towelled down and sat in his chair but Budgie was left kneeling in the ring.

That fall had shaken Budgie and he knew that he’d have to score quickly if his strength was not going to be further sapped by his opponent.

“Wrestle.” called George and, after the initial grip, Budgie managed to trip Rusty and land him flat on his back scoring immediately. Experience was all he had by this stage.

A further two minute break gave Budgie time to recover a bit more and Rusty determined that he wasn’t going to fall for that again.

Following the call to wrestle, Rusty kept a very close watch on Budgie’s moves and managed to avoid them or counter them taking very little out of himself but making an already exhausted opponent drain his energy even more. After about five minutes, Rusty saw his chance; he threw Budgie onto his back and straddled him forcing his shoulders to the ground.

The crowd went wild. George raised Rusty’s right arm into the air proclaiming him the winner. The two smaller boys fancied their chances now that they’d seen quite how drained Budgie was as he continued to lie on his back panting. Alex tried struggling and demanding incomprehensibly that he be given the opportunity to take his friend’s place only to be offered a blindfold and some sprigs of gorse and briar to wear down the front of his swimming trunks if he didn’t shut up. Alex settled quietly.

As soon as Budgie sat up, Little Steve threw him the camel pack and Budgie drank rather too greedily. By now Frenchie in his bright blue hipsters and Braniac in his Speedo solid blacks were chomping at the bit. They knew that they could attack in concert and didn’t have to bother with the nonsense of a tag-rope.

“Wrestle.” Came the command and Frenchie went in low, too low, while Braniac tried to get an arm-lock on their opponent. Budgie went down landing on top of Frenchie and winding him. George announced that it was a pin and called a break. Braniac told Frenchie to be careful as one more pin on him and he’d be out and there was no way Braniac could take down even an exhausted Budgie on his own.

Not long after the start of the next round, Frenchie managed to trip Budgie taking Braniac down on top of him which had to count as a pin. Now all the younger boys had to do was score one more pin whereas Budgie needed three more to beat both of them. Once Budgie had managed to get hold of both Frenchie’s arms, he easily lifted him off the ground and fell on top of him, ignoring the fact that Braniac was frantically clinging to his back, for the fall that took the smallest guy out of the contest. During the break, once he had recovered, his foul language reminded the rest of the Scouts that Frenchie spoke very fluent French indeed. Once they had ascertained that he was OK, Frenchie was allowed to take his chair in spite of ominous rumblings from Zac about “penalties”. He donned his flip-flops, draped his shirt over his shoulders and settled to watch the entertainment in comfort.

Bolstered by his recent victory, Budgie caught his second wind and it didn’t take him long to pin the skinny Braniac twice. Braniac wondered what “penalties” would be demanded but no one seemed to be in a hurry to levy any. He pulled on his t-shirt and sat with the rest of his Troop watching Budgie as he knelt in the ring breathing heavily.

Zac and Big Steve rather hoped that Budgie would make a break for it so that they could re-capture him and continue torturing him but most of the others had developed a respect for the stocky little guy even if he was a “Sailor Boy” and responsible for the recent outrage against their premises. Those that had know him for more than a year were also impressed by the way that he no longer constantly whined about his fate or lied to get himself out of trouble any more. Or was he just stupid?

Eventually, he positioned his hands behind him and said, “Ready.”

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I suspect that the next episode in the story wil be the last.
Boxer shorts are cool,
but little speedos rule!

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

Re: The Persuaders

Postby sarumansauron » Mon May 09, 2011 11:22 am

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

Re: The Persuaders

Postby xtc » Sun May 15, 2011 2:59 pm

THE PERSUADERS



Sunday Afternoon



Judge Tom didn’t consider his duties to have been completely discharged and ordered that, due to his selfless attempt to hasten his co-culprit’s freedom with no hope of hastening his own, Budgie should just have to sit with his hands cuffed behind a pole until he was released. The majority of his captors agreed. Jamie asked whether they shouldn’t let him off the half-hour that he had lost by losing to Rusty. The others thought he had gone soft.

The Twins went over to the kneeling and submissive Budgie, Big Steve said, “Come on, mush.” and they frog-marched him to one of the posts of the ceremonial gateway where he was handcuffed with his back to it. Joe offered the sock-wrapped ball to his mouth and tied it, none too tightly into place without resistance from his prisoner.

Budgie turned to face where the Scouts were sitting and sat down as soon as he could.

There was nearly an hour to go until lunch so Zac was sent with an axe to the woodpile and out of harm’s way. Jamie had done breakfast and someone had to prepare lunch. By popular request, that is to say that he was the last to say, “bags I not do it”, George went into the kitchen and started laying out. Everyone else except Little Steve, who took a saw and went to help Zac, took the opportunity of a well earned rest. After all, tormenting prisoners can be so exhausting.

Every so often Alex’s efforts to gain relief managed to get him into a position where the stave between his arms and knees hit the ground leaving him unable to sit upright until one of his captors helped him. He wasn’t usually left like that for too long but the muffled sounds issuing from him didn’t sound very much like “Thank you.”

George called everyone to lunch, which consisted of cheese rolls, ham rolls and rolls with various sandwich fillings from the fridge. Plenty of chocolate, as usual courtesy of Scott’s parents, fruit and fruit juice completed the meal. Some boys also made tea or hot chocolate from left-over stores from previous events. They might not have eaten as well as the Sea Scouts but they never went without.

Once everyone had declared themselves replete, George and Zac fed Budgie and Alex and gagged them with foam balls in socks again. It was time to release Budgie and, as the Twins had to go, they were given the job of seeing him safely off the premises while Little Steve took his bike to the inclosure gate. His rucksack was packed, leaving out his trainers, and went with Little Steve. The Twins blindfolded Budgie with a scarf and further secured his gag with a neckerchief. Before Joe unlocked the handcuffs, Big Steve pulled Budgie’s elbows towards one another binding his arms tightly against the post. The removal of the handcuffs brought considerable relief to Budgie’s forearms and he was grateful to be given his trainers before being taken over stones, fallen branches, etc. on his way out of the inclosure. Once he was standing, the Twins inspected Budgie’s arms to see whether it would be necessary to tie his wrists. It wasn’t. So they did.

Joe and Big Steve picked up their rucksacks, grabbed Budgie’s arms and marched him along the usual paths to where Little Steve was waiting for them. Joe untied Budgie completely and gave the bindings to Little Steve to take back and Big Steve threw the rucksack into the bushes from where such a scantily clad Budgie would have some difficulty retrieving it. The Twins headed for home and Little Steve started running back to the Cottage as Budgie started swearing and trying to retrieve his rucksack.

Once dressed, Budgie headed for his Troop camp hoping to find out what plans for revenge were in place.

-----00000-----


Now that he was the sole “guest” of the Land Farmers, Alex couldn’t help being relieved that Scott had already gone home after what he had said to him in the morning but wondered what he would have to do to help the three youngest boys with their knotting skills. Within his own troop he was already reckoned as being second only to Action Man in his tying skills but he didn’t really want to have to pass his techniques on to the enemy. He needn’t have worried, that’s not what his hosts had in mind for him at all.


Knot Tying Practice


By now Rusty, Braniac and Frenchie had dressed since their wrestling bouts and were ready to pitch their skills against one another. The were all going to have to tie someone up to demonstrate what they had learned over the past few weeks of membership to the Scouts’ TUGs Club. To make it fair, they’d all get to tie the same victim. Alex made a good guess as to the name of the victim. Just to add “interest” to the proceedings, Long Tom had come up with some rules and incentives for all participants.

Each tier would be given a long rope, a short rope, a bootlace a small roll of gaffer tape and two neckerchiefs. They had at most fifteen minutes to complete their tie. They could, if they wish, tether Alex to anything fixed in the room. No other portable equipment was to be used. Alex had to submit to being tied up until the tier said he had finished after which, he had to try to escape. To encourage Alex to strive to his utmost, he was told that, if he could escape inside an hour and a half, the difference in time would be taken off his sentence. He would be allowed a thirty minute break in between ties. To encourage the new kids to do their best, their efforts would be ranked in order of time and the boys would be subject to tickle torture for the same length of time that Alex had earned off his sentence. There would be extra penalties for the worst performance and rewards for the best.

This seemed to be fair to all, even Alex, but it was really a face-saving formula to allow Alex to earn time off without either side losing face. Not to make it too easy, however, the contest would take place in the training room so that the exit could be guarded for when Alex did manage to escape.

It was decided that the tiers would go in order of size and strength with Rusty going first and Frenchie last.

When all was prepared, the stave was pulled from between Alex’s knees and his arms and he was half dragged, half walked to the training room between Jamie and Long Tom. He was given permission to remove his gag and George untied his wrist cuffs. Alex accepted ten minutes on his honour not to try to escape while he stretched his muscles and rubbed his wrists.

-----00000-----


The young kids didn’t possess as much skill as they seemed to think but each one was determined to do his best. Rusty ordered his subject to cross his wrists behind him before he took the doubled shorter rope and wrapped it four times vertically round Alex’s wrists and tied it off after wrapping it round twice across the first loops. That left just about enough rope to feed each end between Alex’s arms and his body and to tie it off behind his neck with a reef knot. Rusty decided to take a chance with the long rope: he went over to the hanging rail and threw the rope over it fastening it with a secure slip knot. That was a mistake. When he tried to tie Alex’s feet, he found he couldn’t raise him as far off the ground as he had intended and had to retrieve the rope again. That cost him time. Once retrieved, Rusty ordered Alex to lie face down while he wrapped one end of the rope round both his ankles, tightened it off between his ankles and tied it with a knot that would tighten under strain. He was now running out of time and just about managed to throw the free end over the rail and pull down on it. He hadn’t taken into account the friction or the difference in weight between himself and Alex whose feet, but not his knees had been raised before Rusty had to settle for fastening the rope off between his ankles.

Time was called and Rusty had made no use of the tape, the neckerchiefs or the bootlace. “Finished.” called Rusty reluctantly and Alex put all his efforts into escaping. With his arms raised up his back and his feet lifted from the floor, there was no way his fingers could reach the knots in the longer rope. Not being blindfolded, even though it was difficult, Alex could see that the knot tightening around his ankles was not near enough the end of the rope to be released. He was thinking that it was a good job Rusty hadn’t had time to finish the job. He decided that his best hopes were to try to see whether the reef knot was too near the ends of the rope round his shoulders to be secure or to try to relieve the tightness on the ropes stopping his arms dropping and working away until he could slip a wrist free. The reef knot wasn’t giving at all and, if Alex had kept up the effort, he would only have pulled the rest of the rope tight which would have made his second option more difficult.

The rope holding his feet off the floor prevented Alex lying on his side to help take the tension off his wrists but gradually & carefully he worked and started to feel his right wrist slipping through the rope coils. After a prolonged effort, his wrist eventually came free. He slipped his other wrist free and removed the rope from his shoulders. Even though the rope tethering his ankles had tightened considerably, he spent little time freeing himself from it.

“Free!”

“No, get that lot in there first.” Alex spotted Jamie pointing to a bucket and quickly threw the ropes and the unused restraints into it. “Stop the watch.”

“Fifty-five minutes!” announced Long Tom. “Not bad, Rusty but you’ve got a bit to think about.”

“I know, I know. But can they do better?”

Alex was obviously being allowed his promised half-hour recovery time but he did notice that all the doors and windows were guarded.

-----00000-----


Next it was Braniac’s turn, a skinny, smiling little guy but, as his nickname suggested, not without intelligence. He’d noticed the way Rusty had secured Alex’s wrists but also the way Alex created the slack that enabled him to slip a wrist from the rope. He thought he could adapt the technique.

Alex found his wrists and arms attached as before but his wrists had, perhaps been drawn slightly further up his back. In fact, Braniac was making sure the final reef knot wasn’t quite as near the ends of the rope as Rusty had left his. Just a precaution. Alex was ordered onto his belly and The longer rope was doubled and tied firmly below his knees and then brought down to his ankles where they were tied in a similar manner. Braniac took the long free ends and slipped them through the rope behind Alex’s neck before returning them and tying them off between his ankles. That left plenty of rope but Braniac thought that he would leave it in case he had time later. Now, if Alex tried to make slack in the same way he did last time, it was immediately taken up by the strain on his feet. Even if he tried to use his feet to draw his wrists higher, he still couldn’t reach the reef-knot. The theory was good; Braniac had to hope that his practice matched it.

Having a few minutes to spare, Braniac tied Alex’s big toes with the bootlace and looped that round the rope behind his neck. He could see the pursed lips and indrawn breath from his Troop as Alex was pulled uncomfortably tight. He didn’t think he’d bother with the blindfold but did use one of the knotted neckerchiefs to hold the other wadded one in place in Alex’s mouth. Braniac was just about to start reinforcing his roping with the gaffer tape when he was told his time was up.

“You’ve got no chance, Sailor Boy.” announced Braniac making an unwise move for such an intelligent kid as he ruffled Alex’s hair.

Long Tom gave the signal to start. This time Alex’s struggling was quite spectacular compare to the last time as he wasn’t tethered to anything and could roll all over the floor in what, initially, seemed a completely fruitless effort.

After nearly half an hour, the bootlace slipped free from the neck rope but Alex’s toes remained tied. He rolled until his lower legs were on the floor and forced his hands as close to his feet as possible. That didn’t work so Alex rolled onto his side. In spite of the discomfort, Alex managed to force his fingers near enough to the knots holding the longer rope in place. It took about ten minutes to release the knots and straighten out his aching body. By now the rope holding Alex’s wrists into the small of his back had developed enough slack for him to remove it as he had previously. Once that had been achieved, it took very little time to remove everything else and dump it in the bucket.

“Sixty-five minutes.” announced Long Tom. “Good try, young ‘un.”

As Alex enjoyed his recovery time and accepted a drink of water, he did his best to work on his rope burns. He knew his mother would be suspicious when he came home in a long- sleeved hoodie; it just wasn’t his style. He just had to hope that she would have something else on her mind.

-----00000-----


Last up was Frenchie. He hoped that Alex had been so weakened by his recent torments as to be unable to escape quickly causing him to spend a long time undergoing tickle torture himself.

Before the entire half-hour’s recovery time was up, Alex said he was ready for “the shrimp”. Frenchie told himself, “Don’t get mad, get even.” and set about his task. Suffice it to say that, even though Alex submitted in the accepted fashion and Frenchie took the full fifteen minutes to apply all the restraints available, it took Alex only about forty minutes to have all the ropes, etc. in the bucket.

“That’s it, pick on the little guy.” said Frenchie ruefully but he didn’t sound too devastated by having lost.

After all the maths had been done, it became apparent that Alex had earned enough time off to enable the Scouts to release him almost immediately. Let’s face it: everyone could have done with going home before the bitter end and the result enabled that to happen without loss of face on anyone’s part. Alex would certainly be able to get home before his mother’s incendiary tendencies needed to manifest themselves and the Scouts would even have time to torture the recent tiers before going home. Honour seemed to have been satisfied all round.

“OK, Sailor Boy, get dressed and fuck off.” said Jamie with little ceremony. Alex was surprised that he wasn’t going to be bound and accompanied to the edge of the inclosure but the sneaky wink from Jamie was as good an explanation as he needed. He dressed, picked up his rucksack and started running.

By the time he’d left, the younger boys had stripped to their wrestling briefs and George, Zac and Little Steve already had their hands bound above their heads and hanging with their feet barely on the ground from the infamous wardrobe rail.

The older boys thought it would be a relaxing end to the weekend. The younger boys needed some persuading about this.
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That's All, Folks
Boxer shorts are cool,
but little speedos rule!

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

Re: The Persuaders

Postby sarumansauron » Mon May 16, 2011 9:16 am

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