ONE FOR LUCK - A WARBANDS SIDE-STORY mm/mmmmm

Postby xtc » Tue Nov 23, 2010 4:01 pm

ONE FOR LUCK


Matt & Max: Revenge at last!


Even though the photograph was a back view of someone, Aiden could be sure of certain things:
• It was his best mate, Jonny
• He was naked
• He was hanging with his feet some distance from the floor
The photo had been sent to his computer following a phone call (number withheld) from a land-line. Whoever had sent it was explaining the situation on screen and making their demands.

Following the receipt of a photo of Tom, heavily gagged and also possibly naked and one of Karl and JT, who also appeared to be naked and tied uncomfortably back to back, Aiden rang his brother.

“Alright, what do I have to do?


Reviewing the Situation


Following the incident where Max and Matt were tied together and photographed naked, they badly wanted their revenge.
However, there were problems:
• There were only two of them to take on Jonny, Aiden and Karl
• They were younger than their three enemies
• Even though Matt was quite “chunky”, his brother, Aiden, was built like a brick shit-house
• There was very little chance of capturing them all together

They had to weigh up the advantages:
• They could take down Jonny between them
• Karl was a total wimp and Max thought he knew where and how they could take him down
• Perhaps they didn’t need to take all their victims simultaneously
• Aiden had a weakness: his word was his bond and he was completely loyal

Now they had to plan:
• On Saturday JT’s dad, Jason Senior, had to go to a conference and might well need to stay over night
• Karl and JT intended to take advantage of JT’s father’s absence to “keep company”
• They could pick off Jonny and, with any luck, Tom, on their way to the youth club where they did voluntary work. They had nothing against Tom but he might just be a useful bargaining chip
• If they managed to capture JT and Tom, who were innocent, Aiden would probably agree to surrender himself in their places.

OK, that’s the theory. Let’s see how it worked out.


Supply Chain


Max and Matt knew that, once they had located any of their quarry, they had to disable them immediately. They decided that a hood disabled someone very quickly and Matt decided that the textiles lessons in Design Technology hadn’t been such a waste of time after all.

He spent a day producing two very substantial double layered bags from an old leather coat he’d bought from a charity shop. No expense was too great for his brother! They had no external seams, he’d hidden them all inside. He’d double sewn the seams using very strong waxed thread. There was no way of undoing his work without the aid of a sharp object. Another line of stitching through both layers of leather formed a duct through which a thick, 25 millimetre-wide leather strap with a large buckle was threaded. Matt had punched several extra holes in it that were a bit larger than the rest.

“Why did you make two?” asked Max.

“Oh, I dunno. One for luck?” suggested Matt, asking whether Max had played his part in the plan so far.

Max produced two small padlocks. “One for luck?” Both boys gave high fives and Max tried on one of the hoods. Once Matt had fastened the strap round his mate’s neck, he had to agree that wearing that should incapacitate any of their targets. Having removed the hood Max also produced an assortment of cable ties that he’d bought cheap at the local market.

Matt had scoured the local charity shops for any large belts and Max had bought several rolls of packing tape. Matt had to hope that his dad wouldn’t miss his tow-rope and Max stole the new washing line that his mother had just bought and cut it into more convenient lengths. He’d think of a way of getting Karl blamed for it later.

Other than a good length of chain, what more could they want? Oh, yes a few neckerchiefs or bandanas: Matt had several and he nicked his brother’s as well, Max contributed a couple of football scarves, so did Karl!


Aiden Surrenders


Aiden was receiving his instructions. Matt was making it clear that, only if Aiden promised to surrender himself and make no resistance, would either of the innocent boys be freed and Jonny let down from the overhead beam, he would also have to do anything he was told without question. Aiden thought that was a bit much because his brother knew well that, once he had given his word, he could never go back on it. But Matt and Max wanted to make sure that Aiden suffered sufficiently to satisfy their thirst for revenge.

Aiden was told to turn on the web-cam so that they could see what he was doing. He had to go and get the long cable-ties that their father kept in the garage and to take the belt off of his trousers. He could also prepare some socks for stuffing in his mouth. Oh, and remove his clothes.

“Just as a favour you can wear those old white boxers that you haven’t used for some time.”

“Oh, come off it Matt, I’ve given my word. And in any case, they’re too small for me.

“In that case, you’d better not wriggle around too much so that you don’t pop out!”

“Please, Matt.”

“Poor Jonny, he must be in real pain by now. Remember you promised to do what you were told without question. Oh well . . .”

“Alright, alright, I’ll do it.”

Aiden stripped and found his old boxers and showed himself to the web-cam wearing them. The boxers were certainly none too long and rather too tight at the front. He only hoped that his package would be contained securely as long as he was standing.

“Alright, happy now? What next?”

Matt told Aiden to use the cable ties and fasten his ankles tightly together. Aiden did so. He also had to tie himself below the knees, above the knees and round his thighs. He probably tied himself much more tightly than his brother would have tied him. He had to make sure that Matt and Max saw the results of his work so far. Matt hadn’t finished yet; his next demand was for Aiden to fasten his arms tightly to his sides using his belt. Aiden tried to leave himself some slack.

“Ah, poor Tom, he really doesn’t deserve to have been kidnapped, you know. Much tighter than that, please, Big Brother.”

With some difficulty Aiden managed to tighten the belt by two notches. That pinched!

“Is that it now?”

“Oh, no. Roll those socks up ready for when we come and get you. Good. Well done, just put them on the table.” Fortunately Aiden could do that with little difficulty.

“OK, last thing: get another cable tie and pass your wrists through it in opposite directions then tighten it using your teeth. Well done, let’s have a look.” Aiden, who was tottering quite uncertainly on his feet by now, presented his wrists to the camera until his brother declared himself satisfied. He was already beginning to regret having been quite so conscientious about the way he had tied his legs.

“Now don’t go anywhere, I’m on my way round. Won’t be long. Oh, and stay in sight of the camera and don’t even think of shimming the cable ties! See you soon.”

Aiden didn’t know what to think about that because he hadn’t been able to recognise where his mates had been imprisoned from the photos. He didn’t have to wait long. After less than fifteen minutes, Matt arrived looking smug. He gave his brother’s bindings a careful examination, expressed himself satisfied with them, told Max that they were on their way and turned off the web cam.

That “on their way” phrase puzzled Aiden; how was Matt going to move him anywhere tied as he was?

Before he could find out, Matt had some adjustments to make. He ostentatiously produced a roll of packing tape and instructed his brother to open up while he stuffed the rolled socks into his mouth. Aiden was as good as his word and made no attempt to resist as Matt taped them firmly into place and added a few more turns for security. Matt’s next move was to re-fasten Aiden’s wrists behind his back so he cut the cable tie that Aiden had applied to himself and tried to force his arms behind him.

“Christ, that’s tight!” announced Matt as he couldn’t budge his brother’s arms. Aiden’s reply could not be understood but Matt loosened the belt by a notch before forcing his arms round a bit and cable tying his wrists behind him. A final tie between Aiden’s wrists and the belt round his arms pretty well immobilised him.

Matt had now left himself with a problem: how to get his brother downstairs. He certainly couldn’t carry him. He was going to enjoy this. He gathered up his brother’s discarded t-shirt and grabbed the belt binding his arms.

“Come on, Aiden, Walkies!” called Matt cheerfully and made his brother bunny-hop to the top of the stairs. On the command, “Sit!” Matt allowed Aiden to drop to the floor.

“This kid is going to beg for death before I’ve finished with him.” Aiden promised himself in an attempt at comforting himself in his pain. He really was now wishing he had not been as conscientious when tying himself.

Aiden was given the choice, “Either I can pull you downstairs by your ankles or you can go down on your bum stair by stair. What’s it to be?” The look that Matt received could have melted lead. Not only was it humiliating to be videoed while he struggled down the stairs but Aiden was not convinced that his outgrown boxers would protect his modesty in any adequate fashion. One thing he knew only too well, the shorts were certainly pinching his balls.

Just as Aiden’s feet reached the floor, Matt pulled him upright.

As he was led to the back door, Aiden changed his mind about Matt begging for death. How could he possibly beg for death if he’d already had his tongue cut out? That impractical thought didn’t really provide much comfort.

“Oh, stop making so much noise, Aiden. At least you’re not naked like Max & I were!”

“I might as bloody well be.” thought the larger boy as he frantically tried to draw his brother’s attention to his plight. Aiden kept wriggling and nodding towards his midriff.

“What’s up, Boy, need the bog?”

Aiden shook his head and kept on trying to indicate his discomfort by pulling on the back of his shorts.

“Oh, you think it would only be fair if you were naked too like we were?” Aiden desperately shook his head again. “Oh, your shorts are a bit uncomfortable are they?” Aiden changed from shaking to nodding and Matt gave his brother’s boxers a sharp tug.

After the initial fear that Matt would rip his boxers off him, Aiden realised that his brother had simply tried to do what he was asking him to do. With a quick look down to see that everything was still in place, Aiden became more co-operative again.

Matt twirled Aiden’s t-shirt between his hands and bound it tightly round his eyes. Aiden was left tottering on his back doorstep while Matt left him to do something that he was unable to identify by sound alone. As the newly emptied wheelie bin came near him, it was easier to identify by the smell.

When he realised what Matt had brought to the door, Aiden started to object. “Oh, poor JT, he wasn’t even there when you tied Max and me together. What a shame. He’s been tied to Max’s naked brother for ages now. Oh well, I’ll just call Max and tell him you won’t be coming”

I expect the violent head shaking and, “MMMmmmmm” sounds meant either, “No, Dear Brother, I’d be delighted to go”, or “OK then, you little fat bastard, get on with it.” But I’m not sure which.

“Alright then, as long as you’re sure, lie down and tuck your knees up.” So saying Matt helped his brother down to the floor.

With Aiden’s legs raised, Matt laid the bin on its back and shoved the open lid under his bum and a bit further. Following the inevitable vocal protest Matt instructed his brother to straighten his legs and start working his way into the bin. Matt took particular pleasure in assisting him. Aiden was commanded to curl up as near to the bottom of the bin as he could so that Matt could more easily right the bin again. With the bin upright once more, Matt locked the lid thus imprisoning his brother in a most uncomfortable crouching position.

Anyone seeing a blonde boy with a smirk on his face wheeling a dustbin down the road as quickly as he could might well have found it strange but not as strange as they would have found it if he’d tried making his brother bunny-hop all the way. Fortunately for Aiden their destination took only about fifteen minutes to reach.


Here We All Are, Then


Jason Toddman, JT’s dad, had taken what the Brits insisted upon calling his “hire car”, a strange little compact as far as they were both concerned, to the conference; not that he ever used the garage of their rented cottage in the first place. It was used as a store and, if JT had been of a more riotous nature, would have made a good riot room. The cottage was at the other end of the village where Matt and Aiden lived but Aiden had never been in the garage and so failed to identify where his friends had been imprisoned.

Following a very unpleasant and bumpy end to his journey the wheelie bin was unlocked and Aiden was decanted unceremoniously on the garage floor and his blindfold was removed. Looking around him, he surveyed the situation.

He very quickly saw that Tom had at least been granted the dignity of retaining his trousers unlike Jonny. Jonny’s wrists were still bound to the metal roof truss but at least now he was seated on Tom’s shoulders thus relieving the stress on his wrists and arms. Then he saw the other pair of captives tied back to back. Karl was naked but JT was wearing white Speedos for some reason. None of the boys looked particularly happy (with the possible exception of JT, but he was concerned for his friends). Having looked around, Aiden made a guess as to who the next naked prisoner was likely to be.

“Hallo, Aiden.” greeted Max smiling, “Welcome. You probably can’t wait to get ‘em off just like your mates or should I say, just like you left Matt and me. Unfortunately we have business first.” Aiden was too worried about his mates and about his own immediate prospects to feel relieved. Max cut the cable ties from Aiden’s feet and legs and told him to stand. He was so grateful that, if he wasn’t still gagged, he would have thanked Max profusely. Aiden struggled to his feet without assistance from Max or Matt and examined the red wheals on his legs.

“We’ve got a job for you; Tom wants to go.” said Max as he wrapped several layers of packing tape around Aiden’s head blindfolding him. Although Aiden couldn’t see what happened next, future events would enable him to put it in context. Matt yanked Tom out from under Jonny who immediately gave voice, in spite of the fact that he had been tape gagged since his photo had been posted, as his weight came down on his wrists and the roof truss started digging in. Tom, who had also been blindfolded, was laid face down and warned not to move. Aiden was manoeuvred into place and made to crouch down while Jonny was sat on his shoulders. As Aiden stood once more, Jonny felt the weight taken off his wrists. Matt then cut the ends from Aiden’s two remaining cable ties to prevent shimming. Matt and Max already had an informal bet on how long the muscular Aiden would be able to support his best friend.

Matt put it to Tom that, if he gave certain undertakings, he might be released. He had to promise not to return or arrange a rescue on the understanding that, if he did, the photos of him and his mates would be posted on the internet at the earliest opportunity. He had to go to his voluntary work and make his excuses for being late knowing that, if Max or Matt rang the club and found that he was not there, the same thing would happen. Aiden tried to show his support but couldn’t make himself understood through his gag and Tom couldn’t see him frantically nodding his head. “If you want to keep those shorts, Big Brother, you’d better shut up now.” Aiden chose the easy option.

“Right, Tom, I’m going to cut the tape and remove the socks from your mouth now. If you want to get out of here, I want to hear you make the promises we need.” Tom promised not to return or arrange for someone else to mount a rescue. His word was as reliable as Aiden’s but Max thought they still might check at the club later. Matt cut the cable ties from Tom’s wrists with a resultant sharp intake of breath as the circulation returned to Tom’s deprived hands. Tom was left to remove the hobbles and dress himself before leaving. He explained that of course he would keep his word but he didn’t give too much for the chances of longevity on the part of either Max or Matt. With that gently understated, and thus more menacing, threat Tom went away. Once outside it was obvious where he was and it didn’t take very long to get to where he needed to be.

“Sorry, Yank,” said Matt approaching JT, “we know you weren’t involved in our capture but, as we intend using your garage for the rest of the day, we can’t very easily free you. Sorry.” I don’t think he noticed JT’s satisfied reaction.


Kidnapping the Volunteers


Earlier on Matt and Max laid their plans carefully. They had already secured Karl and his friend, JT, and now had Jonny and, hopefully, Tom to secure.

Jonny usually turned up earlier than Tom to help open up, prepare the refreshments and generally prepare for the day’s club activities. His easiest way to get where he needed to be was to take a short cut down a back lane, over a fence through a gap in the associated hedge, across some fallow farm land, over the fence on the far side and onto another back lane to the club hall.

Max and Matt hid behind the hedge as Jonny climbed the first fence. As soon as he dropped to the ground, Jonny hardly had time to see who was there before he was attacked and one of Matt’s Leather hoods was quickly strapped round his neck. Fortunately for the two assailants Jonny’s “informal” route was very little frequented and his protests weren’t overheard. Being unable to see, Jonny could offer little resistance to his attackers who quickly stripped him of his hoodie and cable tied his wrists, rather too tightly, behind him. While the prisoner lay face down on the floor with Matt pinning him firmly to the ground, Max explained the situation.

He suggested that Jonny stop shouting and resisting unless he wanted his trousers removed and his underpants stuffed in his mouth and taped in place. Jonny stopped struggling and fell silent. He knew he was beaten. Max explained that, in revenge for the way Matt and he had been treated the other week, they were going to do very much the same to him, Aiden and especially Karl. Max really owed Karl big time! It was obviously going to be unpleasant but just how unpleasant depended upon how cooperative Jonny chose to be now. Jonny indicated his understanding.

The two younger boys hauled Jonny to his feet and wrapped his hoodie round his shoulders before fastening it and raising the hood. The way to JT’s rented cottage was along the path that Jonny had just left so Matt lifted their rather slight prisoner while Max, from the other side of the fence prepared to receive him. Both kidnappers then put their arms round their prisoner’s waist and propelled him, as quickly as they could in the circumstances, along the path towards JT’s place. The path, being little used, was not the best and getting a reluctant, blindfolded and bound prisoner along it was not the easiest task Matt and Max had ever undertaken.

Eventually the trio arrived. The owners of the property had previously put a gate in their fence to allow access to the path for dog-walking purposes. Jonny was taken to the garage.

The two prisoners who had been secured earlier became vaguely aware of the arrival of a third one. Karl started yelling into his gag. Max pointed out that a naked, vulnerable prisoner was ill advised to make so much noise when not only could he suffer the dreaded clothes peg treatment but so could his innocent companion. Karl calmed down.

The abductors couldn’t spend much time on Jonny if they were to lie in wait for Tom but neither could they allow any of their prisoners the opportunity to help one another. The obvious tethering point was the roof truss so Matt quickly slung a length of Mrs. K’s clothes line over the metal rail, threaded the ends between Jonny’s arms and pulled up tight. Once secured by a few turns of rope, Jonny’s arms had been forced upwards and his torso forced more or less horizontal. Matt noticed how tightly they had fastened Jonny’s wrists and replaced the cable tie with a less tight one and cut the other free. That didn’t make Jonny’s posture any more comfortable or his predicament any more escapable but at least they could leave him like that for quite a while without his coming to any real harm. Yes, they were out for revenge but didn’t intend to cause any permanent damage to their victims ("except perhaps Karl", thought Max about his big brother).

Matt unlocked Jonny’s hood while Max prepared a gag by knotting the middle of one of the football scarves. The knot was forced into the victim’s mouth and the scarf was pulled tight and tied off at the back of his neck. The ends were then brought back round the front of Jonny’s head, pulled even tighter and knotted securely in his mouth. Matt then held the whole thing in place with much packing tape. He was taking no chances.

Having secured their latest prisoner and checked carefully on the other two, the young avengers went looking for Tom.

They had no way of knowing whether Tom had left for the club yet so they deliberately went there first and back-tracked because they knew that Tom would take the same trespassing short cut as Jonny. That way, if they encountered him in the open field, they could just walk on by and write off the opportunity. An uneventful trespass found them waiting by the hedge where they waylaid Jonny. It took all their determination to remain silent and stay still until they heard someone approaching and climbing the fence.

Tom got no better a sight of his attackers than Jonny had before the other hood was strapped round his neck and padlocked into place. Being a bit stronger, even if less fit than Jonny, Tom put up quite a fight even though it was obvious that, being unable to see, resistance was pointless.

Max and Matt even let go of Tom and watched him desperately trying to pull the hood apart. There was going to be no way of doing that with his bare hands. “OK, Tom, which direction are you taking?” asked Max tauntingly. Obviously Tom had no idea. The two younger boys took an arm each and brought Tom to be face down on the ground in a painful double arm lock with their feet against his neck. Max put it to him that, although they had nothing against him personally, they wanted him for an hour or so as bait for Aiden. He would then be allowed to go. Unless he made things difficult for them now.

Tom indicated his submission and Matt released his arm lock, fastened a cable tie round the wrist he was holding and locked Tom’s arm out again while Max repeated the operation on his other arm. Tom found his arms drawn together and Max threaded a third cable tie between the other two and pulled it tight. Matt decided that Tom was inconsiderate in wearing trackie bottoms because he’d have to go and get a belt from his bag which he did and pulled it tight round Tom’s upper arms and torso.

“Please stop yelling, Tom, it can’t hurt that much.” In fact, just as when he bound his big brother, when Matt applied all his strength to the operation, it could hurt quite a lot. It was the sort of restraint from which the subject would want to be free as soon as possible.

Tom was now considered to be helpless enough to have his hood removed so he got to breathe freely again for a few moments. Matt produced one of the bandanas from his bag and folded and rolled it into shape. Tom knew what was about to happen and wondered whether to resist, he might just be able to escape but he knew that Max was fast on his feet and could certainly bring him down especially as he was unable to use his hands or arms. He opened his mouth and Matt stuffed the cloth inside. The usual generous application of packing tape covered Tom’s face from his chin to his nose. That was followed by a scarf for “disguise” purposes. A quick application of tape over Tom’s eyes and a covering pair of dark glasses continued the disguise. Anyone passing would just think it was a hoodied-up youngster once Max’s hoodie had been draped around him, fastened and the hood raised.

The three boys then made their uneventful way to JT’s garage.
Last edited by xtc on Mon Feb 24, 2014 3:49 pm, 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: ONE FOR LUCK - A WARBANDS SIDE-STORY mm/mmmmm

Postby xtc » Wed Nov 24, 2010 2:12 pm

Nearly 100 views and not one response? :(
Should I post the rest of the story or is there no interest? :?
Boxer shorts are cool,
but little speedos rule!

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

Re: ONE FOR LUCK - A WARBANDS SIDE-STORY mm/mmmmm

Postby Jason Toddman » Wed Nov 24, 2010 2:43 pm

I'm interested. This is simply the first time that I noticed that this story was here.
Also, I think the recent post upheavel has confused some of us, and we're not quite used to it.
Also too, in the US, many people are gearing up for the Thanksgiving holiday tomorrow.
Dare to be different... and make a difference.
To boldly go where no one in their right mind has gone before...

Re: ONE FOR LUCK - A WARBANDS SIDE-STORY mm/mmmmm

Postby xtc » Mon Nov 29, 2010 2:44 pm

Ok, here's the next bit:
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

ONE FOR LUCK


The Photographer’s Studio


Now Max and Matt had to prepare their models for the special photo shoot. Karl and JT were already prepared so that left Jonny and Tom to be finished off.

Tom was led into the garage having received a more detailed explanation of the boys’ situation on the way. He had decided that the younger boys could be trusted to release him as promised once Aiden had given himself up, which he also knew his friend was sure to do for the sake of himself and Jonny.. He would probably also have done it for JT and, perhaps, even for Karl. In the light of such considerations, Tom decided to be as cooperative as possible.

Tom was helped to sit down and Matt removed his trainers and socks. Once his feet were bare, Tom’s worst fear was allayed when they made no attempt to strip him of his trackie bottoms but Max did hobble his feet with rope leaving him about 40 centimetres of movement. Tom couldn’t really ask why he wasn’t immobilised more strictly but he’d soon find out.

Once Tom had been hauled to his feet, Max reclaimed his own hoodie and un-buckled the savagely tight strap that pinned Tom’s arms to his body. The relief thus provided was short-lived as he felt his jacket unzipped and pulled off his shoulders and down his arms and his t-shirt forced over his head to join it leaving him bare-chested. Max soon fastened a cable tie tightly round each of Tom’s arms above the elbows and, threading a further one between the two, pulled his elbows to within 10 centimetres of each other. That stung and the ties around his elbows dug in deeply. The tie joining Tom’s wrists was cut and his jacket and t-shirt removed.

“Don’t worry. Tom. I know it’s tight. We won’t leave you like that for long. Got your phone ready, Matt? Watch the birdie!” said Max as he forced Tom to face to his left.

“Hold it, please!” Matt photographed Tom carefully to show the heavy gag and the painful binding round his arms but tried not to show that he still retained his trousers.

Photo session over, the top half of the model’s head was comprehensively wrapped with packing tape, blindfolding him completely and leaving very little of his face showing. Max fitted a new cable tie between the ones round Tom’s wrists and drew them to within about ten centimetres of each other and then cut all the ties fastening his elbows. Matt helped Tom to get face down onto the floor where he was told to spread his legs as best he could and lift his feet in the air. Tom complied.

Now it was Jonny’s turn. He’d been left in the “aeroplane” position for quite some time and the initial discomfort in his arms was turning into pain in his arms, shoulders and chest. “Right, Jonny, you know what this is all about. You left us naked, gagged with our underpants and tied up. Then you made a video. It’s payback time.”

Matt’s explanation was followed by Max casually leaning on Jonny’s shoulder, thus increasing his torment considerably, and offering him the chance to be stripped tied as he was at the minute or having one of Matt’s stylish hoods fastened on him and his hands released to enable him to strip himself without assistance. Jonny managed to make Max understand that he chose the hood.

Matt collected one of his masterpieces of the leather-workers’ art, jammed it over Jonny’s gagged head, tightened the belt round his neck and padlocked it securely into place none too gently, testing the effectiveness of the gag to its limits. Max released a much relieved Jonny from the cable tie that was biting into his wrists and the rope that was hauling his arms up towards the ceiling. “OK, Jonny, you’ve got three minutes to get ‘em off completely before you find yourself being assisted. Get on with it.”

After nearly a minute of self-massaging, shaking, bending and stretching, Jonny removed his hoodie and his trainers and socks. Not being able to see, he dropped the garments on the floor and they were left to stay where they fell. Next came his sweat-shirt and t-shirt. The discarded clothing now constituted quite a trip-hazard to Jonny as he hopped around trying to remove his jeans without falling over. Needless to say the video production was well under way. Once the jeans fell to the floor, Jonny’s efforts seemed to flag somewhat.

“Twenty seconds before we help you.” Jonny was reminded. A deep intake of breath, or at least as deep a one as Jonny could manage in the circumstances, preceded the final act. Jonny’s boxers joined the growing pile on the floor.

“Thank you, Jonny, now hands on your head, please.” said Matt as he retrieved the discarded underpants. “I hope these are clean because you know where they’re going in a few minutes’ time.” Jonny had a very good idea what Matt was holding and where they were going!

Anything was worth a try at this stage so Jonny went down on his knees, his hands still on his head and started trying to plead through both a gag and a double leather hood.

Matt and Max could guess the gist of Jonny’s plea. “No, sorry, mate, we’re going to set a sprat to catch a mackerel. In any case, would you have granted us any reprieve from what you did to us?” Jonny knew he was stuffed.

Matt positioned a stepladder near to where Jonny had been tied previously and started retrieving the rope. Max told Tom to stand and, with some assistance, he staggered to his feet and Max led him until he was standing under the roof truss. “Listen carefully, Tom. You’re about to take Jonny on your shoulders. Don’t drop him now will you?”

Jonny was told to stand, then he was led to the bottom of the ladder and helped to reach the sides with his hands. “Climb.” Jonny did so. “Stop.” When Jonny was just about the right height to sit on Tom’s shoulders, both prisoners were manhandled until he was doing so. They were then steadied and finely adjusted into position under the roof truss again. Matt climbed up the ladder, took Jonny’s right wrist, bound the rope four times around it and tied it off securely before climbing a bit higher. He passed the rope behind the lower cord of the truss and pulled until Jonny’s hands were above it. Jonny was forced to raise his other arm and Matt passed the rope in front of the king-post. Pulled Jonny’s left had until it was behind and above the lower cord. Drawing his prisoner’s hands close together, he tied his wrists together in front of the king-post. Once Jonny was secure, Matt added a few more turns and “one for luck”. All the while Tim was supporting him, Jonny wouldn’t be that uncomfortable but without support not only would Jonny be hanging from his wrists but the “T-section” lower cord would dig into his arms painfully.

Matt unlocked the hood and unwrapped the tape holding the scarf into place. He then removed Jonny’s boxers from his pocket, folded and rolled them and stuffed them into their owner’s mouth. Max passed him a roll of packing tape which he then used as sparingly as possible to keep them in place, after all, Aiden had to be able to recognise his best mate.

Max explained that Jonny’s hobby horse was about to be taken from under him so that he could have his photo taken but, as long as Matt got a good photo easily, he’d soon be back. Jonny was unseated, fairly gently, and left hanging while Tom was moved out of the way and ignored. Jonny hoped that Matt would get a good photo first time! “Smile, please. OK, good one, let’s get Tom back.” Tom was re-positioned and Jonny lifted back onto his shoulders. Neither boy was happy with the nature of the contact they were making with one another. Max then climbed the ladder and applied a more generous coating of packing tape round most of Jonny’s head.

“OK, just one more photo needed. Lift your right leg up a bit Karl if you don’t want to show anything. That’s OK; watch the birdie.” Matt inspected the photo and declared himself happy. It showed both boys and clearly demonstrated that Karl was naked but, as Matt claimed, in an “artistic” pose that showed nothing really. After the photo had been taken, all that was left was to blindfold Karl with a great deal of packing tape and reinforce his gag the same way.

Time to give Aiden a ring.


A Bit of Luck


Earlier that day inside information had proved invaluable to Max and Matt when they were laying their plans. Max knew that his brother was going round to JT’s place and, from what he had noticed from their activities in the past, believed that they would probably do half their work for them. He wasn’t wrong. The problem of Aiden still remained. Then on Wednesday a miracle happened: Matt's and Aiden’s dad found out that his older son was well behind on his GCSE coursework. Hallelujah! Aiden was immediately grounded with no hope of reprieve until after the weekend. That meant that he would not be going to his voluntary work with Jonny leaving Jonny to walk there on his own and Aiden easily contactable at home. Would he use the excuse of being grounded to refuse to come to the aid of his mates? No chance! That wasn’t Aiden’s way at all.

So the plan proceeded quite smoothly.


The Wrestling Match


Mr. Toddman departed early for his conference and wasn’t expected back until very late that evening or even the next day. And, in any case, even if our heroes did have to abandon their prisoners and scarper quick, they didn’t think JT’s dad would be at all outraged or even surprised or to find his son and his friends stripped and bound in his garage. I can’t think what gave them that idea.

Karl arrived at about nine o’clock with an entire rucksack full of toys ready to play with JT. JT even had a few of his own. Even though he hadn’t been in England for very long, he had soon started amassing his requirements for entertaining his friend Karl and himself. “You know,” he thought to himself, “when it stops raining, this country isn’t so bad after all.”

The two boys decided the rules for the day over cans of Coke. The decision was that they’d wrestle, best of seven, to see who would tie whom. Usual rules: no striking, no grabbing the opponent’s clothing and no interfering with the more delicate bits contained therein. Points scored by removing one’s opponent from the ring or by making a body part other than the sole of the foot touch the ground. Loser gets tied and mildly tortured for the rest of the day. JT had previously put considerable thought into just how much of a push-over he should be. He decided that he should draw the contest out for as long as possible because the grappling itself was very satisfying and he wouldn’t like to look like a complete tart would he? JT could probably control the result unless Karl was absolutely determined to lose as, although Karl had a considerable weight advantage, JT was fitter, more supple and quicker. He’d have to be subtle about it.

Both contestants had already put on swim briefs instead of underwear so all that remained was to strip off and get started. JT wore white 5 cm Speedos and Karl wore his black Adidas briefs. The cottage JT’s dad was renting was surrounded by fairly high hedges and, with the nearest neighbours being relatively newly built bungalows, the garden was hardly overlooked at all except through the gate at the bottom and, has already been said, the path was seldom used. In any case all anyone would see would be two fifteen year old boys wrestling. When they went out into the garden to wrestle, Karl had already marked out a circle with chalk dust and a scratch-line across the middle.

It was a fine morning and the grass felt good under the boys’ feet. This was going to be a good day!

Each boy had taken a towel with him which he draped over the garden bench and a bottle of water which was left on the picnic table.

• Both boys came up to scratch and assumed the conventional starting hold. Both boys crouched low. As Karl tried to use his weight to force JT out of the ring, JT took the chance: he slipped slightly to his right and pulled Karl under him. Karl did not keep his footing. One – nil.

• JT also won the second point by noticing that Karl was rather too close to the scratch at the start and dodging under his attempted grab and pulling his right leg from under him. OK, that’s illegal but who’s counting? Two - nil.

• The next round started with a legitimate hold (left arm over opponent’s right shoulder right arm round his body ending by grasping your own wrist, since you ask) and JT tried to straighten up and swing Karl’s feet out of the ring. This was JT’s first un-forced error; he stood, leaned back too far and fell with Karl landing on top of him. Karl even managed not to allow his legs or feet to touch the ground. Karl’s extra weight took the wind out of JT who called for a time-out to drink some water. He really preferred the type of wrestling where there are pin-downs and lots of floor work, but this wasn’t bad either. Two – one.

• Another conventional start (left hand on opponent’s right shoulder and right hand on his left arm) led to a protracted attempt by both contestants to move in and trip the other. A quick change of grip and JT moved in just behind Karl’s right leg and tripped him backwards. Karl went down and failed to hold on to his opponent. Three – one.

• JT lost the next point by not being properly alert when Karl charged him and simply forced him out of the ring. Three – two.

Now JT had to be careful if he didn’t want to “lose by winning”. He was fairly certain that Karl was trying his hardest and needed to let him win the next two points without allowing another move where the heavier boy landed on top of him again!

Both boys went for a towel down and a drink. They sat on the bench and chewed the fat for a few minutes before Karl suggested that their bout be resumed.

• Both boys came up to scratch. Jason just hoped that Karl wouldn’t make a stupid mistake. Both boys engaged and struggled for some minutes before Karl “managed” to lift JT, swing his feet off the ground and deposit him outside the ring. Three – all.

• Match point. JT wanted to pad this out for as long as possible. With these scoring rules, that wasn’t easy. The “over the shoulder hug” engagement started the round. After considerable manoeuvrings, during which JT merely tried to prevent Karl dumping him outside the ring, JT allowed himself to be tripped so that he could let go of Karl in “surprise” thereby falling on his back and losing the point. Three – four.

“Congratulations, Karl.” said JT extending his hand and trying not to look smug.

“I don’t shake hands with slaves.” answered Karl, “On your knees, Slave. Hands on your head, elbows back, thighs upright. That’s it. Now stay like that while I get some toys.”

“Yes, Master.” came the reply as JT gladly complied.

Karl reappeared with his rucksack and dropped it in front of his slave.

“Let’s see what we can find.” said Karl as he tipped an impressive quantity of ropes, tape, etc onto the ground. By this stage both boys were getting somewhat aroused but, by this stage of their friendship, it was the sort of thing upon which one didn’t remark. Karl did take the opportunity to adjust himself but JT hadn’t been given permission to do so.

“Stand up, Slave, and put your arms behind you.” JT did so and Karl took a shortish soft white rope, doubled it, passed the bite between JT’s wrists and his back, threaded the free ends through the bite and pulled it tight. He wound two more rounds vertically around JT’s crossed wrists and two more across them horizontally. He then tied the rope off behind JT’s hands. There would be no chance of twisting his wrists to reach the knots with his fingers for some time but JT couldn’t help noticing that, if Karl had used a longer rope, he could have tied the ends off so that he would be unable to reach them in any case.

Karl returned to the pile of bindings and found a well-worn football scarf which he tied tightly over JT’s eyes. He returned the ends into JT’s mouth and tied it off twice to hold it temporarily into place. The next visit to the supplies produced a roll of packing tape which Karl initially used to secure the gag into place and which he gradually expanded until none of JT’s face was visible between his chin and his forehead except for his nose. With his blindfolding and gagging task completed, Karl made a sudden and brutal assault on his slave’s nipples, pinching them cruelly and twisting mercilessly.

“N-n-eeh” said JT somewhat indistinctly.

“It’s alright, just testing.” reassured Karl who then looped a strap round JT’s neck and led his prisoner, uncomplaining, into the garage. That was when things suddenly went dark.



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

I'd really appreciate some feedback (thanks, Jason).
If there doesn't seem to be much interest, I'll simply pm the rest of the story to those who have been knind enough to respond (or probably even to pm me about it.) in the assumption that no one else is interested.
Last edited by xtc on Tue Feb 25, 2014 7:02 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: ONE FOR LUCK - A WARBANDS SIDE-STORY mm/mmmmm

Postby Jason Toddman » Mon Nov 29, 2010 2:55 pm

Excellent story as usual, xtc. Please keep going. I know how discouraging it feels when no one feeds back, though in MY case I think it's because my stories are a bit too explicit. You certainly don't have THAT problem. :big:
Last edited by Jason Toddman on Mon Nov 29, 2010 9:34 pm, edited 1 time in total.
Dare to be different... and make a difference.
To boldly go where no one in their right mind has gone before...

Re: ONE FOR LUCK - A WARBANDS SIDE-STORY mm/mmmmm

Postby snobound » Mon Nov 29, 2010 6:00 pm

NOOOOO... Keep posting!! It can take me a while to get caught up. I want to see what happens in the garage!!!! I really like how you describe the ties in your stories.
Try out the TUGs chat! http://chat.mibbit.com/#tugsnet

Re: ONE FOR LUCK - A WARBANDS SIDE-STORY mm/mmmmm

Postby xtc » Tue Nov 30, 2010 9:06 am

Thanks for the reply, Snobound. I'll pm you with what there is so far just in case there's no further interest.

Wassail,
xtc
Boxer shorts are cool,
but little speedos rule!

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

Re: ONE FOR LUCK - A WARBANDS SIDE-STORY mm/mmmmm

Postby luckydog3 » Tue Nov 30, 2010 12:26 pm

Yeah, sometimes it takes a while for the interest to show up. I'm looking forward to hearing about some tickle torture...

Re: ONE FOR LUCK - A WARBANDS SIDE-STORY mm/mmmmm

Postby xtc » Tue Nov 30, 2010 12:35 pm

Hi LuckyD, nice to hear from you.
There is a little but I'm afraid it's not 'til later on.
For a true artiste such as I, the plot must genuinely call for it.
Sniff . . . sniff . . . Do I smell bullshit?

Wassail!
xtc
Boxer shorts are cool,
but little speedos rule!

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

Re: ONE FOR LUCK - A WARBANDS SIDE-STORY mm/mmmmm

Postby Jason Toddman » Tue Nov 30, 2010 1:04 pm

xtc wrote:Sniff . . . sniff . . . Do I smell bullshit?


Oops! Maybe the scent is carrying over from *my* story! :oops: :big:
Dare to be different... and make a difference.
To boldly go where no one in their right mind has gone before...

Re: ONE FOR LUCK - A WARBANDS SIDE-STORY mm/mmmmm

Postby luckydog3 » Tue Nov 30, 2010 9:00 pm

I'll trust you to your art.

Re: ONE FOR LUCK - A WARBANDS SIDE-STORY mm/mmmmm

Postby Chase Ricks » Tue Nov 30, 2010 9:06 pm

XTC, you have never failed before to generate great stories here.
From whence I came and whence I went heaven said I was too evil and sent me to hell. Demons and devils succeeded in breaking my soul.

Image

Re: ONE FOR LUCK - A WARBANDS SIDE-STORY mm/mmmmm

Postby xtc » Thu Dec 02, 2010 8:39 am

ONE FOR LUCK


The Unexpected Guests

Once Karl had collected his rucksack and emptied it on the lawn, a stroke of luck if ever there was one, Max and Matt managed to enter the garage by the side door and lie in wait while Karl was kept busy for a while making his slave “comfortable”. Once Karl had led JT round the back of the garage and through the door, he found himself unexpectedly wearing one of Matt’s hoods which was quickly padlocked into place. JT was almost ignored until Karl had been incapacitated. To say the least, he was confused by the sounds of scuffling and the slightly muffled imprecations he could hear.

“OK, Mush, we’ve got no argument with you, just keep out of our way until we’ve finished with your mate here.” With that Matt pushed his knees into the back of JT’s thus forcing him to kneel. “If you want to be treated as badly as Karl here, just move so much as a muscle.” JT had no idea who his assailants were and decided not to take any chances. For the first time he wished Karl had not made quite such a good job of tying his wrists.

“Hello,” said Max sarcastically, “remember me? I’m your little brother.” as if Karl wouldn’t recognise his voice. “You know, the one you’ve stripped off, tied up and videoed for years to blackmail him into doing your bidding. Oh, and do you remember what you did to me and Aiden’s brother a couple of weeks ago? He’s here too.”

With that, Max fastened his brother’s wrists in front of him with a cable tie, threw him unceremoniously to be face down on the floor and announced, “It’s nudie time!” and with that, he pulled his brothers black briefs off leaving him feeling even more vulnerable than he was previously.

Matt and Max spent some time discussing how they were going to tie their prisoners so that they would neither be able to escape nor to interfere with what they had planned for the others later. They decided that it would be a waste not to keep JT as he was; he seemed to be quite cooperative. Karl, who was being less so, was being effectively pinned to the floor by Matt who was seated on his back

Max grabbed JT and made him sit. Then he bound his ankles together with tape. Matt climbed off Karl and hauled him to his feet. Karl was then “threaded” down through JT’s bound arms. It was a VERY tight fit; Karl found his torso being squeezed uncomfortably tightly and JT’s wrists were put under considerable strain. Max and Matt inspected their prisoners and considered whether they ought to allow them a bit of slack for JT’s sake.

“No, serves him right for hanging around with my scum-bag brother.” So the decision was made.

That left JT and Karl seated on the floor back to back with JT’s arms stretched tightly around Karl’s body but with Karl’s arms still free to move in front of him. The tight cable tie was reinforced with a very skilful rope cuff courtesy of Matt leaving about 10 cm of loose rope between Karl’s hands. Matt then forced Karl’s right knee up between his arms and cable tied the loops to his right ankle extremely tightly. Karl rather objected to that.

“Listen, Big Brother; cooperate and I’ll remove the cable tie. Be awkward and I’ll shove the other knee up there as well. You choose.” Karl muffled that he would cooperate. Matt unlocked the hood and offered up Karl’s wrestling briefs to his mouth. Karl understandably baulked at that but Max found that a well placed foot in his more delicate regions quickly made him re-consider. Once in place the briefs were secured by one of Matt’s charity shop belts. He wanted Karl’s face to be relatively un-obscured for when he took his photo.

Karl was made to curl his fingers over his thumbs and a lot of tape was wrapped around his fists rendering his fingers useless. “I told you I’d remove the cable tie and I shall.” announced Max magnanimously. What he didn’t mention was that Matt was then going to force the rope cuffs behind his head and fasten his wrists to his neck.

Max then got a long rope and bound it several times round both boys at midriff level. Once it had been tied off, threaded between their backs and back again, pulled even tighter and finally knotted, there was no way that JT and Karl could separate themselves from one another.

Matt and Max inspected their prisoners and realised that, if they cooperated with one another, they could stand up. Max thought of a use for the unused end of the rope that had been used to draw their waists together. He forced Karl’s left ankle against his left thigh and tied his leg in a sort of frog tie. That should prevent any unfortunate standing.

“OK, one for luck.” announced Matt as he buckled a belt firmly round the prisoners’ necks. “Sorry to have to leave you, lads but we’re expecting guests.”

With that, Matt picked up his rucksack and he and Max left to wait in ambush for Jonny and Tim.


All Are Safely Gathered In


After an industrious morning all Matt’s and Max’s plans had worked out. Now the business meeting had to start. Max wanted all the videos that were used to blackmail him deleted. He already knew his brother’s password on their shared laptop but, in spite of a very careful search, he had not been able to find them. He hoped that they were only on his phone, which is how his brother always showed them to him when trying to “persuade” Max to do what he wanted. They could, of course, also be on his flash pen but that could be “modified” with a hammer unless he could be persuaded to cooperate.

Max quickly found Karl’s long, wide denim shorts where he had left them on JT’s living room floor and, in the pocket, the flash pen that he always carried with him. Matt’s rucksack had contained all the restraints that the pair had amassed but Max’s contained the laptop from home. He plugged it in to a socket in the garage and booted it up. Karl’s flash pen was quickly inserted into a USB port and opened.

“We’ve got some questions to ask.” said Max casually clipping two crocodile clips that were attached to a battery charger in the garage onto Karl’s nipples. “We’ll just leave you to think about things for a while.” With that Max and he opened a couple of cans of Coke from JT’s fridge and enjoyed them in a leisurely fashion. Karl jerked around in a very satisfying manner causing no little distress to JT who, having his ankles bound, could do nothing to stabilise his posture. Those crocodile clips were big mothers!

Following their protracted drinks break the two younger boys returned in the middle of an ostentatious discussion of the effect that switching the battery charger on might have on Karl’s convulsions once they had made him and JT sit up once more.

“We needed you to understand the pain that your Yankee mate will be experiencing soon.” explained Max to his brother. “I’ll take the clips off now and put them on JT. They’ll stay in place until I’m happy with your answers. Understand?”

The muffled scream was easy to decipher but the protracted “Nnggaah” that followed was impossible to interpret. The next thing Karl heard was a series of muffled screams from JT whose convulsions nearly toppled them again.

“Right, that’s made the Yank comfortable. Remember, he stays like that until we like your answers to our questions.” Max hadn’t really fastened the large, vicious crocodile clips onto JT, just a couple of plastic bag closures. He did, however, give them quite a few hefty slaps shortly afterwards. “Shut up, Aiden, unless you want Jonny to hang again while we remove your boxers. We’ll get round to you two later, don’t worry.”

Matt opened his penknife and slipped it between Karl’s chin and the packing tape that was holding his briefs in his mouth. He always kept the knife sharp and there was soon a neat cut through the outer layers which he peeled back to just past Karl’s mouth. The first couple of rounds that were pushing the swimming trunks into Karl’s mouth were still in place and doing quite a good job.

“Make sure you understand this, My Brother, in a minute Matt’s going to finish cutting your gag free. If you shout or even say ANYTHING that’s not a direct answer to a question, you’d better be prepared to hear JT screaming quite a lot. Understand?” With that JT’s nipples got a nasty tweak through the plastic clips. The resultant muffled scream produced the required repeated head nodding from Karl. “Are you sure?”

“Ngye, ngye” affirmed Karl with more exaggerated nodding.

“OK, hold still, you wouldn’t want Matt’s knife to slip, would you?

Matt went carefully to work and, before Karl could spit out his briefs, Max clapped his hand over his brother’s mouth. “Remember, not a bloody word unless you’re answering me. Answer immediately and answer truthfully. Now, look after your cozzie in case it needs returning into place.” So saying Max hooked the soggy garment out of Karl’s mouth, unrolled it and draped it across his thigh. He then wiped his hand on what was visible of his brother’s hair. Karl remained silent but there was a certain amount of low moaning from JT. The moaning seemed to have a strange quality and JT’s Speedos seemed to be showing the strain.

“Where are those videos of me naked that you use to blackmail me kept on your computer and what’s the password?” Max knew the password and that the videos weren’t on the laptop; he just wanted to see whether Karl would tell the truth first time.

“They’re not on the laptop, they’re on my phone.” admitted Karl with some difficulty as he had been gagged for over two hours and he was in real need of a drink. “Look, believe me, I don’t want JT to be tortured and I don’t want myself or my other mates to be hurt either. They’re only on my phone. Honest!” The last desperate word followed JT’s response to Matt’s latest tweak of his nipple clips.

“Alright, I’ll believe you. Now let’s look at what’s on your flash pen.”

That worried Karl. Not because the videos of Max were on there, they weren’t. But because the ones of him and JT were!

“No, please, they’re not on there, please! Max! Have mercy!!”

“Ooooh! Do I hear porkies?” JT was subjected to a prolonged nipple assault. “Where are they, Karl?”

“They’re not there, I told you: they’re only on my phone!

Max continued looking. “Weeell, would you look at that? I wonder what THEY are? Come here, Matt, have a look at this one. Oh, you two were having fun, weren’t you?”

Matt and Max watched a few excerpts from what they later dubbed “The Bound Adventures of Jason and Karl” and Matt announced, “The worm has turned. We’ll just make copies of a few of the highlights and then negotiations can continue.”

He produced his own flash pen and copied the whole folder. They copied the files to Max’s area and Max changed his password in case Karl knew it.

Karl was beaten.

“Business shouldn’t take too long now. Should it?” asked Matt.

“No, I’ll cooperate. You’ll find them . . .” Karl helped Max navigate round his phone until the videos had been found and deleted. He even told him where to find some extra copies. “Now, please, delete the ones of us.”

Matt decided that it was time for a history lesson. “Have you ever heard of unilateral disarmament? That’s where one side gets rid of all its nuclear weapons whether the other side does or not. Well, that’s sort of what is going to happen. You’re going to surrender all your blackmail materials but we’re holding on to ours. You don’t mind, do you? After all, you only have to behave and do whatever Max tells you from now on and no one need ever see them.

Karl saw his past flash before him.

“Now,” demanded Matt, “who else has copies?”

“No one, I swear. Not even the one of you and Max together.”

“Oh look, I’ve just found your contacts list. Tell me who has the copies or I’m going to send a little greetings card to all your friends. Can you imagine going to school on Monday? Never mind that, can you imagine the phone calls this evening?”

“Please, no! If I could get on my knees and beg, I would. No one else has copies. I swear on our mother’s life.”

“Convince me before I send them.”

“Even Aiden and Jonny don’t have them. Aiden reckons it’s not fair when we do the same things with one another.” That rang true.

“Alright, we don’t need to believe you; if any of them appears anywhere, the video excerpts and photos that we’ll compile will go straight out to your contacts. Do the words “social death” compute? Answer politely, Boy.”

“Yes, Matt.

“Yes what, Boy?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Not good enough, Boy. Send ‘em, Max.”

“NO!! Please!! I mean please, Master.”

“That’s better. Now what have you got to say to your brother?”

By the time he’d finished you’d have believed that Karl actually meant the grovelling apology that Max received from him. Max was finally satisfied so he stuffed the sodden black Adidas briefs back into his brother’s mouth and taped them comprehensively into place.

That was fun and Max hadn’t finished yet.


Hanging Jonny


It was Matt’s turn to revenge himself on his brother for what he’d done to him the other weekend.

“Comfy, Aiden? Happy with your piggy back, Jonny?” Let’s face it, neither of the boys was happy with the intimate nature of their mutual contact and Aiden was starting to feel the strain of having to support his friend but he couldn’t contemplate letting him hang in pain.

Aiden bore the taunting stoically but Jonny tried begging unintelligibly through the football scarf.

“Shut up, Jonny. I want a little talk with my brother and you wouldn’t want to be kept hanging around, would you? I found this old fork up against the wall. I thought it could be used to keep your feet slightly further apart so that you can’t walk so easily and so that Jonny doesn’t sit up quite so high and comfortable.”

Matt was as good as his word. He took a piece of Max’s mum’s washing line and square lashed his brother’s right ankle to the business end of the fork having forced it between the two middle tines. “Hold tight, Jonny, this is going to be a bit rocky.” So saying, with some difficulty Matt forced his brother’s left foot through the hole at the top of the handle. That was a tight fit. Aiden nearly lost his footing and, even when he was stable once more with his ankle lashed to the top of the handle, Jonny found his arms stretched tighter than before even though he was still seated on Aiden’s shoulders.

As time wore on, Aiden had to try to get some relief by shuffling his widely spread feet and that made the metal cord across the garage dig into Jonny’s wrists quite painfully. As time wore on more, Aiden started to sag increasing his skinny mate’s discomfort even more. Max and Matt were quite prepared to wait.

Aiden was reaching the end of his strength and decided to throw what was left of his dignity to the wind. He tried begging his little brother to release at least Jonny but there was no way Matt could understand him even if he wanted to – which he didn’t. It was at this stage that he realised that his brother was not naked and that he should be. It would be difficult to strip him without tearing or cutting his boxers off but it didn’t really matter as they were now excruciatingly tight against his scrotum and the vent was gaping somewhat in any case. Matt settled for another photo. “Just one for luck.”

“Oh, bollocks,” thought Aiden, “they wouldn’t just let him hang there.” He knew this was going to hurt. He fell to his knees in spite of the fork and stayed there. Jonny was left hanging and kicking and squealing. Matt and Max looked at their watches and Matt held out his hand. Max put a couple of quid into it.

“Thank you!”

“You’re welcome. Karl’s paying, aren’t you?” The wretched boy sadly nodded his head.

Aiden tried pleading in between hanging his head in what he hoped Matt would take for submission. The minute or so during which neither Matt nor Max responded seemed an age. Aiden thought that perhaps he’d miscalculated.

Eventually it became apparent that Aiden’s pleading was in earnest, especially when it was obvious that he’d deliberately touched his nose to the floor and was unable to rise again. Matt lifted him upright again by the strap round his upper body and told him that, once his gag was removed, and , once he had been given permission, he had no longer than a minute to speak. Aiden nodded his head.

Matt got to work with his trusty penknife and eventually allowed Aiden to spit out the socks.

“Speak.”

“Please, Masters,” he knew what would be required of him, “please release Jonny, he’s been hanging there for hours without a break. I’m sorry, I just can’t support him any more. I’ll take his place.” That offer, although very ill-advised, was typical of the older boy. Max started to feel some sympathy. Matt didn’t!

“What will you do in return?”

“I’ll do all your maths homework until Christmas.” That was a good offer; although Matt was very strong in English, Aiden was brilliant at maths. “Please cut Jonny down.”

“Silence.” Aiden obeyed while Matt and Max dragged an old cabinet across to where Jonny was and stood him upon it releasing the strain on his wrists, arms and shoulders. “That’s given him some ease while we make our decision. Right, that’s not enough. What else will you do?”

It took a magnificent effort of will for Aiden not to suggest that his little brother was a part of the female anatomy at that time. Then he remembered the photos. There was no point in offering to do Max’s maths as he was even better than Aiden even though he was younger. “Karl tells me that Max has to cut their large lawn while his Mum’s working on Saturdays. I’ll do that until the end of the season.”

Max jumped at the offer. More time for playing his guitar!

Matt was gracious enough to accept the homework offer so the deal was struck. He knew Aiden would keep his word to both of them and that he would be sacrificing at least three hours a week from then on. Aiden was their slave!

Matt got the penknife out again, positioned the step-ladder and climbed it to cut Jonny’s rope cuffs. Jonny collapsed but Max had climbed up on the cabinet and supported him. There was no way he could struggle. Matt and Max helped him to the floor and forced him to his knees. They fastened cable ties, none too tightly, round each of his wrists and used another one to draw them to within a few centimetres of one another behind his back. Matt employed another of his straps to fasten Jonny’s arms to his body and Max added a cable tie tightly around his crossed ankles.

“Listen, Jonny, you don’t get a say. We’ve decided what you’re going to do.” started Matt. “We can’t be arsed to wait in the queue in the cafeteria each lunchtime. You’re going to do it for us. You’ll take our orders and then join the queue, buy our lunch and bring it to us. If it arrives inside 20 minutes we’ll pay you for it. Otherwise we’ve got some really good shots of you.” That was cruel but Jonny was good for the money and, as long as he shifted himself, he shouldn’t have to pay too often. “Nod if you accept.”

Jonny nodded accepting the offer almost gratefully rather than be strung up again – or something worse.

“OK, that’s two slaves fit for release and one more to play with. Listen up, Aiden, and Jonny gets released sooner. We’re going to untie you almost completely and let you go. When we get your phone call FROM HOME, we’ll release Jonny. Understand?”

“But I can’t, sorry, Masters, permission to speak?”

“Speak, Slave.”

“I can’t go home like this, Masters. Someone might see me.”

“You’ll just have to run up the back lane and hope there’s no one around. At least you’ll have your t-shirt.”

“Please, Matt, that won’t cover me.”

“Extra punishment, you didn’t address me properly, Slave. No t-shirt.”

Aiden decided to keep quiet before the little bastard thought of something else to make his life miserable.

“That’s better, good slave.”

The abductors went about releasing Aiden from the garden fork. Matt cut the remaining tape from his head and pulled it none too gently from his hair and Matt released the strap. Aiden was told that his hands were to remain cable tied until he got home and managed to cut himself free. There was no point in pleading so, after a few minutes to accustom his body to being almost free of restraints, Aiden took off out of the garage, out of the back gate and onto the back path hoping against hope that no one would see him. He was in luck. He then kept a careful watch until he thought the final approach to his own place was clear. He made a break for it and reached his rather private garden where he used the back door foot scraper to wear away his bonds. The abrasions were not fun. After a few minutes Aiden was free. He found the spare key that was always kept hidden in the garden and went into the house.

The first thing to do was make that phone call so that Jonny would be released.

Kneeling on the floor and waiting for the phone call seemed like an age to Jonny but eventually the call came to Matt’s phone.

“Now, now, Aiden, manners. That’s not the way a good slave talks to his master. Perhaps we’ll just keep Jonny for a while.”

Following a grovelling apology Matt magnanimously agreed to release Jonny forthwith. He cut the cable tie joining his wrists and the strap round his arms and told him to finish the job for himself.

Removing the packing tape from his head with no tools and no help took Jonny about ten minutes by itself. It was a blessed relief to be able to expel his boxer shorts from his mouth and he considered begging for water but thought better of it. He had to beg for something he could use to cut his ankles free and was told to dress. Looking at the sopping boxers lying on the dirty garage floor, Jonny decided to go commando. He didn’t even bother to remove the cable ties round his wrists.

Jonny was given permission to leave and ran out as quickly as he could. He looked for his phone to ring Aiden but it had somehow mysteriously disappeared. He assumed he would have to beg for its return later. He ran to Aiden’s house.

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


Thanks for the responses. Now how about a few different readers responding?
Obviously I would prefer the unadulterated praise that I truly deserve but that would not be particularly constructive.
If you've got reservations about my writing, how about pm-ing me?
As has been said: support in public; criticise in private.

As JT(Sr) has said: feedback is the only reward we "authors" (my parentheses) have.
Last edited by xtc on Tue Feb 25, 2014 7:53 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: ONE FOR LUCK - A WARBANDS SIDE-STORY mm/mmmmm

Postby xtc » Sun Dec 26, 2010 7:30 am

ONE FOR LUCK


Then There Were Two


By now the strain on JT’s arms was getting a bit much even for him but, even so, he didn’t really want the longest and weirdest tie-up in which he’d ever been involved to come to an end too soon. Being the one who had been tied for the longest, he could really have done with a loo break but he’d even come to accept that he might have to go on the garage floor. However, the consequences of having to sit in the result for goodness knew how long afterwards made him decide to try to hold it as best he could. At that point Matt brutally snatched the clips from his nipples. That nearly did it.

By now what Max had previously believed about JT had become blindingly obvious to both him and Matt: he wasn’t too concerned about being released. That made them feel better about the fact that they had used an innocent boy to help imprison Max’s brother.

So, to business.

“Hello Karl.” said Max as he lifted his brother’s head by the chin, you might think that it’s your turn to be released now. Wro-ong! When Matt has finished with you, I’ve got a long list of grievances to avenge. Sorry JT, you can’t go yet but it’s about time you took a break.” Was that a happy or a despairing sigh he heard?

“Now, if you promise to be a good boy and not to try to escape, Matt will take you to the loo. Agreed?” The nodding of JT’s head (and his attempt to scrunch his knees as close to his abdomen as possible whilst rocking back and forwards as much as his restraints would allow) implied a strong affirmative answer. Matt cut the rope round JT’s wrists with a resultant cross between a sigh and a scream that could be heard distinctly through the layers of his gag. Matt allowed him quite some time to shake his arms and massage his wrists before ordering him to put his hands palm to palm. JT felt cable ties being fastened to each wrist and then joined together presumably by another. Matt didn’t tie him too tightly but JT was highly unlikely to try to escape in any case. Next the rope tying Karl’s left ankle to his thigh needed loosening before the two prisoners could be separated at the waist. Matt made a note that using the same rope for both jobs was a strategic mistake. Both prisoners heaved enormous sighs of relief. If you’ve never seen someone sigh with their whole body, you should have seen those two. Before Matt unstrapped their necks, Max tied Karl’s left ankle tightly to his right knee. He forced the free end of the rope between both Karl’s elbows, pulled tight and secured the end back down by his left ankle again. With the removal of the strap joining Karl and JT at the neck, the prisoners were separated and Max just let his brother collapse in a ball on the garage floor.

Placing one foot on his brother’s helpless body, Max stepped over him to help Matt with JT. While Matt cut the tape around JT’s ankles, Max looped the belt that had only just been joining the two prisoners together round the tie joining JT’s wrists and hauled him to his feet. Both boys supported him while he regained his equilibrium. That took quite a few minutes. Matt then took hold of the end of the belt and led JT out of the garage. He’d noticed earlier that the cottage retained the ancient outdoor privy at the back.

“Does the outdoor bog still work?”

“Mmm mmm.” answered JT feeling grateful that relief was that near and nodding his head rapidly.

“OK. I’m going to lead you in there and close the door. You’ll have two minutes for a piss then I’m coming in for you. Understand?”

“Mmm mmm.” affirmed JT even more frantically.

The deed done rather noisily and quite copiously, Matt reclaimed his captive who had managed to readjust his Speedos just in time.

“Better?

“Mmmmm mmmm mmmm!”

Prisoner and escort headed back to the garage. As they did so, they heard the phone ring inside the cottage. After a few rings, the answer machine cut in. Matt thought it would be wise to listen to the message so he led JT into his own home through the back door that he had not bothered to shut when Karl and he went outside for their wrestling match. By the time they got to the phone the message was well underway. It was obviously JT’s dad. The message finished and Matt replayed it.

“Jason, it’s your dad. I’m not going to be finished by ten o’clock tonight so I’m staying over ‘til tomorrow. You know what I think about driving on these crummy British roads. Their freeways, or whatever they call them, are OK but all those roundabouts before I get to them and after I get off them are not my favorite at night, especially driving on the wrong side of the road. Sorry son, but you’ll have to phone for a take-out. I’ve left some cash in the usual place. Sorry and I’ll see you tomorrow. Love you, Jason.”

“Yes, there IS a God!” shouted Matt, rejoicing and he led JT back to give Max the good news.

Having been relieved, JT was strangely ambivalent about the news. He could guess what Matt and Max would decide to do. He was right: they both rang home and made arrangements to sleep over. Max told his mother that Karl said he was sleeping round a friend’s place but that he wouldn’t say which one. She’d go ape-shit when he got home!

Matt told JT to sit and he forced his knees up between his arms. A broom was used to stop him withdrawing his knees.


Reviewing the Situation II


Max and Matt needed to re-plan so they had a drink about things courtesy of JT’s fridge again.

They had:
• Revenged themselves on Aiden and Jonny
• Arranged for Aiden and Jonny to be their slaves for quite some time
• Taken Karl prisoner and could keep him overnight
• Made sure that Karl would be found so much to do by his mother that he would be unlikely to have any free time for at least the next three weeks
• Got enough blackmail material to make sure that they were not going to get into trouble
• Got an available house to use as a dungeon

They needed to:
• Take turns to go home and get a change of clothes and a sleeping bag
• Feed themselves (and JT and, probably, Karl too)
• Think of some creative ways to entertain their captives (without being TOO nasty to JT)
• Oh yes, and let Karl go for a piss

They decided to:
• Send out to the brilliant local Kebab shop for a home-delivery
• Take a while to think of ways of torturing Karl. There was no shortage of ideas
• Not leave JT out; he obviously enjoyed being a captive
• Start torturing Karl as soon as he’d been allowed to go to the toilet.


Paying Attention to Karl


Karl was getting fed up with being trodden on every time one of the younger boys needed to cross the garage (and one or two times when there was no real need as well) but, being drawn into a ball, he could do nothing to avoid the trespassing feet. Then he heard the most welcome words he had ever heard in his life: “Need a piss, Karl?”

He nodded his head as best he could. They’d have to untie him. Perhaps he could escape while they were taking him to the cottage. It’s surprising how devious younger brothers can be once they’ve gained the upper hand.

Matt checked to see that Karl’s fists were still securely bunched and added a lot more turns of packing tape. All the subtle work that Karl had put into loosening his tape mittens went for nothing. Meanwhile Max released the rope pulling his brother into a ball but his left ankle remained connected to his right knee. Matt helped Max to lift Karl so that he was standing on his right foot supported by his gaolers. Max kept hold of his tottering big brother while Matt took another rope, threaded it between Karl’s tightly bent elbows and pulled it tight, drawing them as close together as possible and putting a great strain on Karl’s arms and wrists. Leaving the ends of both ropes trailing Max and Matt took an arm each and supported Karl whilst forcing him to hop out of the garage and across the lawn.

Karl was wondering why he hadn’t reached the path to the cottage. What was wrong? He soon found out.

“You don’t need a toilet, you can’t wet clothes you’re not wearing and no one else can see you. We’re going to tie you to the clothes post and you can just go where you are.” With that, Max offered to take “the risky part” and looped Karl’s leg rope around the post and tied the end round his left ankle again while Matt threaded the end of the elbow rope through the anchoring ring at the top of the post. A sharp pull forced Karl’s elbows high forcing him to arch his back. The rope was secured once more to itself allowing Karl no relief.

“OK, we’ll leave you to get on with things.” said Max giving his brother a hefty swat on his backside before returning to the garage with Matt. This wasn’t what Karl expected at all! He tried to tough it out for about half an hour before he just had to let go. Perhaps he would be taken down once he had relieved himself?

Once they had returned to the garage Matt and Max thought that an “interrogation” of JT was in order.

Without a word, Matt’s trusty penknife made a repeat appearance. With the extensive job that Karl had made of blindfolding and gagging his TUG buddy, it was difficult to know where to start. At least the foundation of a football scarf had kept the tape out of JT’s hair to a considerable extent. Once all the tape was off and the sweat- and saliva-soaked scarf was revealed, Matt warned JT not to speak except in direct answer to a question. Did he understand? JT nodded.

Matt untied the sodden scarf and draped the unpleasant object over JT’s shoulders.

“Need a drink?” asked Max somewhat redundantly.

“Yes please, Sir” came the rather surprising reply.

Max was already prepared from his previous visit to the Toddmans’ fridge and he offered the straw from a small carton of orange juice to JT’s mouth. JT sucked like orange juice was going out of supply.

“More?”

“Permission to speak, Sir?”

“Speak.”

“Please may I have a glass of water, Sir?”

Max went to the kitchen and drew a fresh glass of tap water. JT was fed the liquid slowly. He hadn’t got used to the chlorine taste of the local water but he wasn’t arguing. The glass was drained and the submissive prisoner said, “Thank you, Sir.”

Matt apologised to JT for the necessity of keeping him prisoner but assumed that, being obviously Karl’s TUG buddy, he didn’t mind being tied up too much. And so it went on. By the end of the “interrogation”, JT knew that Karl would be kept prisoner and tortured in his home overnight and had agreed to remain tied up to keep him “out of the way”. Now that was something like it! Lastly Matt asked JT for his home delivery order and JT told him where to find the money.

Following his interrogation, JT once more thought that this place wasn’t too bad at all.

Thinking about the posture into which their prisoner had been forced, Max asked if he needed re-tying in another position. JT turned the opportunity down without even knowing how he would let his captors know if he did need releasing but Matt told him to try saying his name if he did. The rhythm of, “/Ay - uh,O - u—/“ should be clear enough; then he could be asked if he needed his gag removing.

“Last chance for the bog” offered Matt.

“No, thank you, Sir.” Said JT slipping effortlessly back into his role.

Matt thought better of trying to reapply the wringing wet football scarf to his prisoner’s face and searched his bag of goodies for something else. He found one of his neckerchiefs and bundled it into a roll which he fitted into JT’s unresisting mouth. He didn’t want too much work to undo when the food arrived so he just held the wad in place with one of his straps which was wound twice round JT’s neck and buckled in his mouth. JT wondered if he had made a sensible decision as one of Matt’s hoods, buckled loosely in place, ensured that he was unable to see.

While this was happening, Karl was trying to avoid standing in any newly wet grass and hoping that his discomfort would be alleviated soon. He heard Max approaching; he was evidently on his phone. “. . . and a megaburger, a Hawaiian and a shish. Can we please have garlic bread and three portions of chips? Does that come with free Coke? Thank you, bring it to . . .” Karl noticed that he didn’t seem to have been included in the order.

“Ooo look, baby’s been a naughty boy and wet himself.” This was probably stretching things a bit far but Max couldn’t care less for the niceties after suffering so long under the tyranny of his brother’s blackmail. Any excuse would do. “Naughty baby!” And Max picked up a belt from Karl’s own pile of toys. “I think that requires six of the best.” With that, Max doubled the strap and counted as he delivered six powerful blows “and one for luck”.

Poor Karl, he was stretched tight and hopping on one leg. There was no way he could avoid his brother’s lashes even if he could see.

“Oh, that’s not fair, Max. He doesn’t deserve a beating. He just needs tickling to make sure that he’s “empty”. For the next ten minutes Matt attacked his helplessly exposed armpits, his inner thighs and even the exposed sole of his left foot. Giggling soon gave way to grunting and Karl found breathing becoming increasingly difficult. Tied as he was Karl found even wriggling almost impossible. But he did his best!

“I don’t think we can be really sure yet.” said Max, taking over from his friend. Karl’s body was running with sweat and the pain in his arms competed with the pain of the tickling for predominance. If there WAS anything left in his bladder, Karl would have expelled it just to stop the torture but, once again, he was out of luck. Surely this had to stop soon? Surely they’d take him down from this torture stake before he collapsed? Surely they’d feed and water him? Surely his brother would soon have pity on him? Karl was not enjoying himself.

“I suppose we’d better get him inside before the food arrives, we don’t want to chance his being seen.” suggested Matt.

“You spoil all my fun!”

“Come on, let’s move him.”

Matt released the rope stretching Karl and he fell to the ground with a muffled yell. Max noticed that he hadn’t knocked his head and so made no attempt to comfort him. He did, however, release his left leg from his right knee. The rope was used to hobble Karl to make it easier to move him. Matt thought it was about time to allow Karl to move his arms which had been bent and tied to his neck for several hours. The rope holding them in place was untied leaving the short rope cuffs between Karl’s wrists. As he stretched his arms to pass the cuffs over his head, the relief was almost balanced by the pain but slowly the pain and the cramps subsided.

“Say thank you.”

“U---- ooo!”

“That didn’t sound like “thank you” to me. Oh well, back they go.”

Karl felt his wrists being pulled back behind his neck and then he tried to say, “Thank you” in spades.

“That’s better.” said Max generously, not that he could really understand what his brother was saying, and he stopped forcing his hands behind his neck.

While Karl was still on the ground, Matt took the rope that was released when Karl’s wrists were freed from his neck and tied a loop in the end. He threaded the rope onto the wrist cuffs and passed the free end between Karl’s legs, not being too fussy about avoiding his more tender parts, up his back and fastened it with a non-slip knot to Karl’s neck. That would pull unpleasantly when he was forced to stand.

Max grabbed the rope just below his brother’s neck and hauled him to his feet. Karl really did not want to stand up straight. He guessed, once he felt the path under his feet, that he was being taken into the house. At least that’s what he hoped; it was either that or he was being taken into the road! The instruction, “Step up” relieved his worst fears. Karl felt himself taken through the kitchen and into the living room where he was forced to the floor. He immediately curled up and tried to adjust the rope that was causing him such discomfort.

“Now, now, Boy, no trying to escape or it’s back out to the clothes post.” Karl tried, unintelligibly, to reassure Max that he wasn’t trying to escape, merely (and somewhat vainly) to re-position the rope into a less painful position. Watching his brother’s mitted hands, Max got the message which Matt quickly consigned to video.

“That whining’s getting very annoying.” announced Matt somewhat disingenuously as very little sound was escaping the briefs and the mound of packing tape. “I would suggest you keep much quieter.” Karl gave up the attempt and just tried to find a position in which to lie that took the most strain off his aching body.

Once again Max put his foot on his brother and stepped over him as Matt and he went out into the garage to attend to JT.

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


OK, here's the next bit. I lost a lot of the story during a system update. So much for security!
At the minute, I can't face the re-write but I'll get round to it for the sake of completion. Is anyone interested?
Xtc
Last edited by xtc on Tue Feb 25, 2014 8:28 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: ONE FOR LUCK - A WARBANDS SIDE-STORY mm/mmmmm

Postby Jason Toddman » Sun Dec 26, 2010 7:56 am

I assume none of that lost part involves any of the story that you sent me by pm, or you'd have let me know and I'd have sent it back to you.
But please please please keep working on this! :D
Dare to be different... and make a difference.
To boldly go where no one in their right mind has gone before...

Re: ONE FOR LUCK - A WARBANDS SIDE-STORY mm/mmmmm

Postby Scottstud94 » Sun Dec 26, 2010 7:59 am

Of course!

Re: ONE FOR LUCK - A WARBANDS SIDE-STORY mm/mmmmm

Postby xtc » Sun Dec 26, 2010 11:28 am

Thanks, guys. I really appreciate the feedback.

No, sorry Jason. Thanks for the hint but the stuff waas just wiped for some reason following a Norton scan. An entire Saturday's typing went up the tubes.
That might only have been a few thousand words but it was about half the remaining narrative.
Boxer shorts are cool,
but little speedos rule!

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

Re: ONE FOR LUCK - A WARBANDS SIDE-STORY mm/mmmmm

Postby luckydog3 » Sun Dec 26, 2010 6:21 pm

A fine read just after Christmas. Good work!

Re: ONE FOR LUCK - A WARBANDS SIDE-STORY mm/mmmmm

Postby xtc » Sat Jan 01, 2011 4:20 pm

One For Luck


Dinner Time



As soon as JT heard Matt and Max arrive in the garage, he stopped struggling. He had enjoyed the inescapability of his situation but had got himself stuck lying on his side with the broom head forced up against his arms.

“Having fun?”

JT would have had to reply that, other than getting the feeling that he had been left on his own, he was.

“Time for dinner. Come on.” With that, Matt helped JT to sit upright and pulled the broom out from between his knees and his elbows. Grabbing the belt that was still hanging from JT’s wrists, Matt led him into his kitchen. In the meantime Max had rescued more of Karl’s ropes from the pile on the lawn.

JT was sat on a chair and his hands were freed. He offered no resistance as his arms were forced between the slats of the chair-back and his wrists crossed and bound behind them. Max took the belt that had just been removed from JT’s wrists and cinched it tightly round both his waist and the central slat of the chair-back. Matt cross-lashed the young American’s ankles leaving his feet well clear of the floor. JT was used to playing TUGs with his buddies back home but he soon realised that these two, especially Matt, really knew what they were doing. He felt a rope being looped through the belt in front of him and pulled through. The free ends were then forced under JT’s bum and pulled tight; Matt ensured that the doubled rope passed each side of JT’s bulge without pinching him. That ensured that JT would not be able to slip out of the belt. While Max forced his ankles backwards and over the cross spindle of the chair, Matt threaded one end between JT’s ankles. He knotted the two free ends and pulled tight. By the time he had finished and knotted the rope several times JT was unable to move his backside either forwards or backwards and totally unable to move his legs.

JT knew that his gaolers could have added even more restraints to him but he was aware that his “appreciation” must already be only too apparent to Max and Matt. They had the decency not to mention it. Once again JT wished he had the opportunity to adjust himself in his Speedos.

After a final check to see that their “host” was secure in his own home, Max went to collect his brother while Matt collected his rucksack and looked for more toys. The groan as soon as Karl realised that Max’s grip on the rope round his neck signalled the fact that he was about to be stood upright again was audible in the kitchen. Following a bit more noise as the rope tightened around his groin, Karl was led into the kitchen and made to sit on a chair. Max lifted his feet and untied them and hauled his brother onto them. He then kicked his feet until they were spread widely apart. Matt repositioned the chair and Karl was forced to sit on it, back to front.

Matt took one leg and a rope and Max took the other – and a rope. Karl soon found his legs curled round the back legs of the chair with his ankles pulled towards the front of it. A few minutes later and the ropes had been returned and knotted around each leg and its adjacent chair leg until movement was practically impossible. As Karl sat hunched trying to alleviate his discomfort, Max undid the loop round his neck. Lifting his wrists started to draw the rope from behind Karl until Max pulled the rest free quickly and with a resultant squeal of alarm. “Oh sorry, Karl, I didn’t think about the rope burn! Now, now, language!”

When his smirk had subsided somewhat, Max fastened two large cable ties together and looped them between Karl’s rope cuff and the cross-spindle under the chair. Once Max had pulled them as tight as he wanted, Karl had no choice but to sit hunched, hugging the chair-back and unable to straighten his back.

A short while afterwards the food arrived and Matt paid with the money that Mr. Toddman had left for JT. JT didn’t begrudge that.

Matt put the bag on the kitchen table and went through the contents.

“Mega-burger. That’s mine.” The mega burger is a wonderful/disgusting sight depending upon which side of fifty years old one is: three burgers and ALL the trimmings arranged into a totally inadequate sesame bun(1). “Hawaiian pizza. That’s the Yank’s. Shish kebab. That’s yours, Mate. One of their huge rounds of garlic bread to share and three portions of chips. Sorry, JT, proper chipped potatoes, not your rubbishy reconstituted French fries. Oh, and a two litre bottle of Coke and various sachets of gunge. Hey, they’ve even put a buckshee pot of curry sauce in.”

Karl thought he had spotted an omission.

Matt opened a tray of chips and poured the curry sauce all over them while Max opened another and drenched the contents with tomato ketchup (JT’s request) and yet another with vinegar (and tomato ketchup!) for himself. It didn’t take long to locate some glasses and fill them with coke before Max and Matt tucked into their feast. They even removed JT’s hood, unstrapped his gag and allowed him to ask for pizza, chips or Coke which one of them would then feed him.

Karl was getting desperate; he had been gagged for many hours and hadn’t even been offered a glass of water since breakfast.

“Mnnn eee, oo aaafss.”

“Sorry, Karl, we forgot you, sorry.”

“XXXXXX”(2)

“Please shut up, you’re spoiling our dinner.”

“YYYYYYY”(3)

“Ooo, has Baby thrown his toys out of the pram? Naughty Baby.” taunted Max as he started to apply a few swats of his hand to Karl’s backside.

If Karl’s face had not been swathed in packing tape, it would have been difficult to tell whether his tears were those of distress or rage. Max’s plan was working.

When the three boys who were dining had eaten and drunk their fill, JT was heard to say, “Thank you, Sirs.”

That signalled the end of eating possibilities to Karl. JT then allowed himself to be gagged again and was relieved to find Matt binding the material into place with packing tape rather than the previous jaw-tormenting belt. Although he wasn’t blindfolded again, JT couldn’t see anything more than about two metres away as anything but a blur due to the fact that he had removed his contacts before the morning’s wrestling bout.

“Need a drink of water, Karl?”

Karl sagged even more in his chair. He had the choice: accept his defeat and beg for the water he needed desperately or do without drink as well as food. He nodded his head.

Once more, Matt’s trusty penknife came into its own. Following a safety warning Matt set to work. The first few layers round Karl’s lower face came away quite easily but the last two or three took substantial quantities of hair with them. “Now, now, Boy, any language like that and we’ll just replace the tape. Understand?” Karl nodded and was allowed to spit out his Adidas briefs.

Matt held up a two litre bottle of water to Karl’s mouth and gave him the contents gently. When he’d had enough Karl said, “Thank you, Master.” He was learning.

“Seeing as you’ve been such a good boy, you may eat now.”

Karl was confused. He hadn’t heard the start of the home delivery order, which had deliberately been lodged before he could overhear the phone call, which contained a burger for Karl. It was no longer hot but Karl took grateful mouthfuls as it was offered up to him. He even got plenty of the left over, but also cold, chips. His “Thank you, Master.” was even quite sincere when he had finished.

“Open up.” Karl was tempted to beg not to have his, by now disgusting, briefs replaced but thought better of it. He was relieved to find that something else was used instead. The neckerchief had been rolled tight but still filled his mouth and stopped his tongue completely. “Close your lips.” Karl did his best and Max taped the gag into place efficiently with about six rounds of packing tape.


After Dinner Entertainments

Having made sure that both of their prisoners were safely secured to their chairs, the younger boys decided that Matt would go home first to collect his overnight gear. It would also allow him to return the wheelie bin before his father missed it.

Karl dreaded what he was hearing. He would be left in the care of his little brother who would surely torture him mercilessly until Matt returned. He didn’t think that Matt would be in any hurry to return and would be gone for at least an hour. He wasn’t too far off.

The sight of a blonde, crew-cut, fourteen-year-old taking a wheelie bin for a walk might, to some people, have seemed to be bizarre but, all the while Matt spoke to it as it did what he wanted it to, no-one seemed to consider it worth remarking upon. Strange that. School drama lessons seemed to be valuable as well design tech. ones.

While Matt was gone, Karl’s worst fears materialised. Max started his check list, “Armpits?” and made an exploratory tickle of both Karl’s unprotected pits “Check!” Karl jerked around but he could not avoid his brother’s assault. “Neck and chin?” Max got a very gratifying response from tickling Karl’s bent neck and then pulled his head backwards by the hair and got an even better reaction under his chin. “Check!” And so the “inspection” proceeded: sides, thighs, feet and belly. With each, “Check!” Max made careful mental notes of the best reactions.

“That all seems to be in order. Right then, let’s go.” So saying Max launched an attack on both sides of his brother’s torso simultaneously. Karl squealed and jerked around so violently that the chair started moving around. After about ten minutes, Karl was snorting like a bull and having real difficulty drawing breath. “Sorry, Boy, but I find this quite exhausting.” said Max as he stopped to mop his brow with a handy tea-towel and started yet another glass of Coke.

In between the heavy breathing the muffled “Eee, Aaa, owe!” noises were in fact Karl’s desperate attempts to beg for mercy.

“What’s that Karl? Why have I stopped? Oh, alright then, since you ask so nicely.” With that Max launched an even more frenzied attack upon his brother’s neck and all the way down his sides again and round to his belly. Max was, in effect, now hugging his brother negating even the small amount of movement of which he was previously capable. “You know, I’m just getting my second wind. I think I could keep this up for quite some time yet.”

“Eeeeeeeeeee! Oohh!” could be heard between snatched breaths but Max didn’t seem to understand.

The assault ceased after about fifteen minutes while Max removed his shirt and t-shirt, mopped himself down a bit and took another mouthful of Coke.

Karl’s desperate pleading continued throughout the break.

“Let’s see, shall I replace that swimming costume in your mouth before I start again or are you going to stop that squealing now?” Karl even considered the option. At least it would put off the next assault on his sensitive parts. He decided, however, that he couldn’t face it and quietened down.

“And the next contestant right this way, please!” called Max as he explained the new rules to his victim. For every minute that Karl could keep quiet while his thighs and waist were tickled Max would allow him two minutes free from tickling. “Ready? Go!” and ten very flexible musician’s digits went to work.

Karl lasted forty-five seconds by the kitchen clock before a prolonged, “Aaaah –h – a-h-a” escaped his gag.

“Oh, so sorry, not even a minute. Donggg!”

As good as his word, Max gave his brother a minute and a half to recover.

“And now for the feet!” Max settled on the floor and managed to attack both of Karl’s feet simultaneously. Karl’s giggling, grunting and attempts at evasion made Max reconsider this tactic as he couldn’t restrain both of Karl’s feet adequately while attacking them both so he re-positioned himself so that he could hold the right foot firmly whilst working on it for a good ten minutes before swapping to the left foot.

Max thought it was time for another mop down and a drink.

Matt arrived to find a very hyper, bare-chested Max and a very sweaty and exhausted Karl. “What have you done to him?” asked Matt as he noticed that Karl flinched considerably every time his mate touched him.

“Just didn’t want him to feel lonely, that’s all. Want a go?”

With that, Karl’s whole body flinched. “Oooowe, eeeee!”

Matt said he’d pass for now and Karl sagged forwards even more. He couldn’t see the pheasant feathers Matt had brought with him.

Max decided that he’d go and get his overnight things and promised not to be long. He couldn’t wait to get back to tormenting his big brother.

“It would be rude to ignore our host.” announced Matt as he took a feather and approached JT who saw what was about to happen to him as his torturer drew closer. JT had a certain scope for movement but not enough to stop Matt tormenting him by running the feather round his navel and belly in general before proceeding to the exposed insides of his thighs. JT was soon reduced to jerking, panting desperation. Matt had to stop for a while because there was a danger of JT tipping over the chair to which he was tied.

“This serves you right for keeping the wrong company, Boy.” taunted Matt with a nod towards where Karl was still recovering from his own ordeal. The next attack featured Matt’s strong and active fingers which played all round JT’s chin and neck, worked their way down his chest, sides and waist and down to the insides of his thighs again. That was the best reaction! After a break to draw breath (his own, not JT’s!), Matt took up the other pheasant feather and settled on the floor. Such a long feather made access to JT’s feet easy. Poor JT’s soles and even between his toes got a comprehensive seeing to until there was once more a danger of the chair being tipped over.

After about half an hour JT was left sweating, whimpering and drawing desperate breaths through his nose. Max returned with his kit having run most of the way home and back. He was feeling especially smug having just repeated the lie about what Karl was supposed to have said to him earlier to his mum. Max was right; she went ballistic. Just think what she’d do when Karl himself returned home!

Max explained this to Matt. Karl groaned.




1. I have actually seen Alex from the Sea Scouts taking a complete bite out of such a monster.
2. This statement has been censored in the interests of decency.
3. See above!
Last edited by xtc on Wed Feb 26, 2014 8:03 am, edited 2 times in total.
Boxer shorts are cool,
but little speedos rule!

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

Re: ONE FOR LUCK - A WARBANDS SIDE-STORY mm/mmmmm

Postby Jason Toddman » Sat Jan 01, 2011 9:52 pm

Hooray! Another installment! I can't wait to see the rest of the story - in the profesor's own good time of course! :mrgreen: :D
Dare to be different... and make a difference.
To boldly go where no one in their right mind has gone before...

Re: ONE FOR LUCK - A WARBANDS SIDE-STORY mm/mmmmm

Postby snobound » Sun Jan 02, 2011 6:01 pm

Awesome, XTC... I'm as far as "Hanging Jonny"... loving it!
Try out the TUGs chat! http://chat.mibbit.com/#tugsnet

Re: ONE FOR LUCK - A WARBANDS SIDE-STORY mm/mmmmm

Postby xtc » Sun Jan 09, 2011 8:42 am

ONE FOR LUCK


A Quiet Evening In Front of the Telly

Matt and Max agreed that it had been an exhausting day and that they fancied watching the telly for a while. Shame that the programming was such rubbish.

Matt went across to JT and asked what DVD’s he had but he found the answer difficult to understand. “OK, you’ll have to show me.” With that he untied JT’s wrists and allowed him to withdraw his arms from the chair-back. JT was told to bend forwards, not an easy feat with the tight belt holding him back in the chair, but he did his best while Matt pulled his arms across his back and started tying his wrists to the opposite elbows. One rope was used to attach JT’s right wrist to his left elbow and another to attach the other elbow and wrist. That rope was then bound firmly along the length of JT’s forearms and tied off at the other end leaving JT’s arms, in effect, mummified. Matt checked the tension and did his best to equalise it along the length; JT could be like that for quite some time. The free ends of the other rope were passed across the victim’s back, under his right armpit and across the back of his neck. Once it had been pulled tight, forcing JT’s arms to move some distance to the right, it was threaded back under the other armpit, across his upper back again before being tied off near the right elbow. Matt then jerked JT’s arms back into a more symmetrical position.

JT groaned.

“OK, Boy?”

JT nodded.

“What’s your name?”

JT shook his head silently.

Having given his prisoner the opportunity to give the safety signal, Matt completed the job. The remainder of the long rope was looped between JT’s upper arms a couple of times and then cinched off close to his arms on both sides thus drawing JT’s arms together and making struggling close to impossible.

JT groaned again. Or was it a sigh?

Just for safety, Matt asked once more, “What’s your name, Boy?” and lifted JT upright. JT looked at him, wide-eyed, and shook his head.

Before long JT’s feet were free and the belt had been removed allowing him to stand up. Matt assisted him to his feet and both Max and he supported him for a while as he flexed himself to the full extent of which he was still capable. After a couple of minutes Matt forced him back into the seat and suggested that, as a “security measure” Max should hobble his feet. Matt supported JT’s ankles and Max applied a very secure set of rope cuffs that would allow JT to walk, and even climb stairs, but not to get anywhere fast.

Karl would have given almost anything to have been released from his chair; he’d been unable to straighten his back for rather too long as far as he was concerned. His attempt to plead through his gag was not only ill-advised but also ineffective. Max just got annoyed with him.

Leaving JT sitting in his own place, Max grabbed some of the toothed plastic bag ties and headed towards his brother.

“As you seem to feel hard done by, I wouldn’t like you to feel that you were being ignored. Try these.” Max then fastened the wide-mouthed spiked clips onto his brother’s ear-lobes and some smaller ones onto his nipples. Karl was unable to straighten up enough to scrape them off against the back of the chair. His resultant squealing was quite spectacular but was nowhere intense enough to invoke pity in his brother.

“Max?” said Matt with a questioning look on his face as he nodded his head towards Karl.

“He’ll be alright. He deserves it. I’ve been bullied and blackmailed by him for years and I’ll probably not get this chance again.”

“Fair enough, as long as you’re sure.” Karl wished he had been given a “safety word” to say. He would certainly have used it. He didn’t really understand that his brother, in spite of his desire for revenge, would not actually subject him to any serious danger.

Having decided that, Matt turned his attention to JT once more. He looped the discarded belt round his “host’s” neck and yanked him to his feet. “OK, Boy, take me to your CD’s.”

JT thought that he could take Matt straight to the “family” collection (that is to say, his dad’s) in the front room but that it would be better to introduce him to his own (limited) collection that he had built up since being in Britain. The two boys climbed the stairs to JT’s bedroom, negotiated the various items of clothing, sports gear, hardware, software and other sundry objects littering the floor (JT wasn’t like his dad in that respect) until they reached the collection of DVD’s lined up (sort of) in the window. Matt selected three films for Max’s approval and the two boys returned to the kitchen. JT was glad not to have been blindfolded during these manoeuvres.

Matt found Max flicking the clips attached to his brother’s nipples and ears and saying, “Be quiet, Karl.” before each flick. Karl was obviously trying not to vocalise but was equally obviously not succeeding. Matt couldn’t help wondering what Max had threatened to make him even try. “Oh, if he can keep quiet while I flick all of the clips once, I’ll stop doing it. He hasn’t managed it yet.”

“Fair enough. Have a look at these while you carry on. Which one do you fancy?”

Max selected a DVD and Matt led JT into the front room where the TV and home cinema was set up. The belt was removed from JT’s neck and he was told to lie face down on the floor whereupon it was used to draw his hobbles towards his arms leaving him in a fairly loose hog-tie.

Matt returned to the kitchen to find Max still busy “entertaining” his brother.

“You coming to watch this film? What’re you going to do with him?”

“Sorry, Bro’, got to stop, something else to do, sorry.” Max’s smug count was going up all the time and the best bit about it was that Karl couldn’t afford to do anything about it afterwards. Then he gleefully pulled the clips from his brother’s body.

“Now, if you promise to behave, you can come into the front room with us. Otherwise I could always find somewhere even more 'sensitive' to attach these clips.” Karl actually believed that he would do it. “Which is it to be: clips or film? . . . Clips?” Karl shook his head rapidly. “Or film?” Karl nodded resignedly. “Good choice, Boy, but remember, I’m taking the clips with me.”

“At last,” thought Karl, “a chance to straighten up.” Little did he think . . .

Matt cut the cable ties thus enabling Karl to sit upright at last but Max kept a firm grip on his short rope cuffs. There were many things that Karl would not have wanted to happen next and having his wrists forced behind his neck again was high up the list. Ho –hum! Karl’s wrists were fastened into place with one of Matt’s old neckerchiefs before Max and Matt started untying his legs. His legs free, Max hauled him to his feet and made him kneel on the chair where Matt used the rope he had just untied to fasten Karl’s ankles tightly in parallel and also his knees. That left plenty of free rope for later.

“Come on, little bunny rabbit, time for a walk – or is that a hop?” With that, Max lifted Karl backwards from the chair and, keeping hold of the neckerchief, forced his brother to bunny-hop all the way from the kitchen, through the living room and into the front room. Max didn’t go out of his way to help his newly acquired bunny rabbit avoid all the obstacles. Once in place Max decided that Karl would make a very useful bunny-shaped foot stool. I suppose that it did involve a certain amount of artistic licence but Karl would have an arched back, his arse in the air and his shoulders close to the ground just like a grazing rabbit. He was made to kneel, his wrists were freed from his neck and his forearms were forced to the floor. Max pushed his elbows against his knees and Matt used the rope attached to Karl’s knees to fasten his elbows to them so that he couldn’t uncurl himself. There was some discussion of whether it was necessary to tie his neck down to his wrists.

“Ngg ngh”, said Karl shaking his head.

“Ask nicely.”

“Eeee, eee owe, euh.” Karl could really have said almost anything but Max granted his request nevertheless.

“Ooo look, I’ve got a bunny footstool.” Karl was then manhandled until his backside was against the sofa ready for when Max wanted to be seated. Max thought he’d make himself comfortable by removing his trainers and socks and, considering his labours probably to be at an end for a while, replacing his t-shirt.

“Does that sofa look comfortable to you, Max?

“It’d be better with an extra cushion, Matt.

With that, they lifted JT by the hog-tie strap and dumped him face down on the sofa. Matt unbuckled the strap and JT was rolled over onto his back. He got a feeling of déjà vu as Max took his place sitting on his chest and adjusting his feet on his brother’s back. Matt inserted the DVD and collected the controller and settled down on JT’s legs (with a cushion on top of them) to enjoy a couple of hours’ entertainment accompanied by more Coke from JT’s fridge. The irony was that, although JT could see the television, if he turned his head to the left, the lack of his contacts rendered the image a total blur.

During the first hour or so of the film Matt frequently fidgeted, adjusting his position, ostensibly making himself comfortable and Max often wriggled between JT’s chest and his belly. JT preferred it when his belly was used as a cushion because it gave some relief to his tightly bound arms.

JT had some time to think. How he had dreaded coming to this place before he got here. How pleased he was to have made friends in his excellent school. How things had looked up during that first expedition when his team was taken prisoner. How things had looked up even more as Karl turned out to be his TUG buddy. And now this. He couldn’t care whether his enthusiasm showed.

He did share certain things with his father. They’d never discussed being tied up but JT knew that his father must have noticed certain give-away signs. There was a tacit understanding between them but his dad understood that it would have been embarrassing if he raised the subject in front of his son. All that mattered to him, as long as JT was safe, was that he was happy.

After a while Max got fed up with giving Karl his feet to smell and casually reaching forwards and tickling his brother’s waist and punishing him when he moved, so he asked Matt if he wanted to have a go with his brother.

“OK, let’s pause the film and make some different arrangements.”

Matt paused the film and both Max and he got off JT.

“I wouldn’t want to do you out of your footstool so I suppose we’d better make another one.”

“Thank you, Matt, I accept.”

With that JT found himself lifted off the sofa, knelt next to Karl and concertinaed into three. Matt connected a short rope between his neck and his knees. It wasn’t pulled too tight but there was no way of straightening himself out. Having arranged JT in a comfortable position, for himself that is - not JT, Max resumed his seat and propped his legs on JT’s back with his smelly feet too close to his nose for comfort. With the practice he’d just had on his brother, he was becoming quite adept at using his feet as an instrument of torment.

Obviously Karl couldn’t see what had happened to his mate; he was just glad to be free from his brother’s attentions. Now it was Matt’s turn. He could be really annoying as he tickled Karl’s ears with his newly stripped-bare toes and lightly kicked the side of his head every time he flinched.

After the film resumed, Max entertained himself by resting his feet on JT’s arms, shoulders or back as he saw fit and demanding that his human footstool shuffle forwards or backwards to accommodate him. Max wasn’t going to allow his slave time to get bored.
Last edited by xtc on Wed Feb 26, 2014 8:54 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: ONE FOR LUCK - A WARBANDS SIDE-STORY mm/mmmmm

Postby Jason Toddman » Sun Jan 09, 2011 10:42 am

Looking good. I'm eager to se how this finishes up. :D
Dare to be different... and make a difference.
To boldly go where no one in their right mind has gone before...

Re: ONE FOR LUCK - A WARBANDS SIDE-STORY mm/mmmmm

Postby xtc » Sun Jan 09, 2011 11:40 am

I've just got around to replacing the "lost episodes". They're going to be about 50% shorter than the first drafts that were lost to a system failure but, I hope, no worse for that. One more chapter to write and then the usual delay for proof-reading/scrappping/re-drafting, etc.

If anyone who hasn't commented yet has comments, I'd be very pleased to recieve them.

Wassail!
Xtc

PS Jason, do you honestly expect to see how it "finishes up"? By past experience, what sort of "ending" do you expect me to provide? Remember, although you've seen some of the notes, and even the punchline, the important last paragraph had not been written.
Boxer shorts are cool,
but little speedos rule!

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

Re: ONE FOR LUCK - A WARBANDS SIDE-STORY mm/mmmmm

Postby Jason Toddman » Sun Jan 09, 2011 12:56 pm

Hmmmm... we may be thinking of different concepts when I said finish up. I simply meant I look forward to reading the rest of your story however you've planned to write it, with the likely inconclusive conclusion (with room for continuations that may or may not eventually be written) and all, that wasn't included in the version you sent me by pm a while back. You've only now reached on this site the point this story reached in what you sent me, and now I eagerly await to read the rest of it that you planned writing.
Dare to be different... and make a difference.
To boldly go where no one in their right mind has gone before...

Re: ONE FOR LUCK - A WARBANDS SIDE-STORY mm/mmmmm

Postby xtc » Sun Jan 16, 2011 7:42 am

Here's the next bit. This is about one paragraph more than I had written before the computer crash. I have since re-written the lost chapter but with some brevity. I now have to face up to writing the transition betweern that situation and what I know I want to be the end of this story. I'm finding that difficult to "engineer". Wish me luck!

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


ONE FOR LUCK



Supper is Served



Eventually the film came to an end and Matt suggested that he was getting peckish. Max agreed and suggested ringing the local Chinese. There was some discussion as the locality was well served with take-away outfits that did home deliveries to the village. The two boys couldn’t make a decision and that was making Max even more fidgety than he was previously.

JT thought he’d better take a hand. An indecipherable sound issued from the rather pale American boy as he tipped himself forward into a nose to the floor posture that he hoped his captors would consider submissive.

“Need your gag removing, boy?”

JT did his best to nod without lifting his face from the floor.

“What’s your name?”

JT did his best to say, “Jason Toddman” and Matt took that as the safety word, helped him to get his face away from the floor and took his hard-working penknife to the packing tape round his head. Once the plug had been spat from his mouth, JT said, “Permission to speak, Sirs?”

“This had better be good now you’ve given the emergency signal.”

“Please, Sirs, I don’t want release but I think I can help with your decision. And it would be free.”

“Carry on.” said Matt, having heard his favourite word.

“My dad will have put a large lasagne and various other things in the freezer. You could have that. If you will allow your slave to put his lenses in, he’ll get it and prepare it for you.”

Max and Matt decided that that was too good an offer to refuse. If JT “tried anything”, they always had his friend as a hostage and it seemed to them very unlikely that JT would be in any hurry to escape in any case. By now Karl had been blindfolded since quite early in the morning and, having heard JT, he thought that he’d try begging too.

Max just said, “Shut-up, Karl.” and shoved his face into the carpet with his foot. Karl was beginning to regret goading his brother into treating him like this, especially when he could see no prospect of pay-back. He fell on his side and, other than treading over him in his usual manner, Max just left him there. He did manage not to cry but it was getting to be a very close run thing.

Untying JT took quite some time even though his hobbles were left in place.

“Permission to speak, Sirs”

“On your knees, ankles crossed, hands on your head.” JT did as he was ordered.

“Permission to visit the bathroom before I prepare your supper, Sirs?”

Max was getting used to hearing JT referring to the “bathroom” when he wasn’t in the least interested in bathing when he was visiting Karl. But Matt still smirked at the unaccustomed American euphamism.

“Granted.” said Matt as he looped the strap round JT’s neck and hauled him to his feet on his way to the bathroom. A few minutes later the two boys reappeared and JT (who had inserted his lenses) took Matt to the freezer where he found the frozen lasagne that he put into the microwave ready for when he had prepared the rest of the meal. A quick trip to the salad crisper in the fridge and to the larder soon produced coleslaw and the makings of a side-salad which Matt left JT to prepare. But he did keep a careful eye on him.

Once he was ready JT switched the microwave on and took the salads through to the front room. A few more minutes and he delivered two portions of lasagne and cutlery and presented them to his gaolers. “Get some for yourself and you may sit on the floor and eat it.” Neither Matt nor Max even gave a thought to restraining their newly found slave who did as he was told and took the plates and cutlery away afterwards and washed everything up.

After his meal Max turned his unwanted attentions to Karl once more.

“Come on, Max, you’ve been treating him like shit for hours. Don’t you think it’s time for some carrot after all the stick you’ve been giving him?”

“Oh, alright. Need the bog, Karl?”

Karl nodded. He was even more in need now that he could hear the running water in the kitchen. Max untied the rope attaching Karl’s arms to his knees and also separated his knees and his ankles but not until certain “offers” had been made to him concerning his conduct. Why Max even bothered to make them, Karl couldn’t understand because he still couldn’t possibly use his taped fists to remove his gag or his blindfold and couldn’t possibly run away. Max even let his brother have a few minutes to “iron out the kinks” before giving him his next instructions.

Karl now found himself bound only by short rope cuffs round his wrists, but still naked, blindfolded and gagged. Max told him to slip his wrists behind him and helped him thread his feet between his arms. Karl did his best but Max had to force his bound wrists past his bum in the end. Although by no means fat, Karl was not exactly sylph-like. Max looped the belt round Karl’s neck and led him outside and into the old privy where he was told that he was allowed no more than five minutes to do what he needed to, wipe his arse and be ready to return. Karl felt the tape being cut from his left hand and also felt what he assumed was a loo roll put into his newly liberated palm.

“Remember, five minutes at most. Get on with it.” And Karl heard the door shut. He could have tried removing the tape round his other wrist and making a break for it but that would have taken him more than five minutes in itself and he knew there was no way he could get past both his brother and, he assumed, Matt without being able to see. He did what he needed to and even managed to clean himself afterwards well before Max opened the door.

“Say thank you!” I don’t think that’s what Karl really said next but Max just hauled him out of the privy and led him back into the kitchen, where JT was still hard at work, and sat him on a chair. He could smell the hot chocolate that JT had just made for his “masters” and that made his need for food even more acute. Max bound his ankles simply. Just enough to prevent escape.

Max noticed that JT had finished his appointed tasks and explained the situation to him. “Look I know you wouldn’t want to escape on your own behalf but we can’t have you helping your scum-bag friend, my brother. I’m afraid it’s time to be tied up again.” JT turned round and crossed his wrists behind him. Matt Knew that he wouldn’t be tied up alone for long so he fastened his wrists in a simple handcuff knot, pulled it tight and bound each of the loops round a few times to tighten them securely.

“On the floor, face down.” JT lay on the hard, tiled floor and Matt pulled his left foot up his back and slipped his foot between his wrists. He was surprisingly secure but wouldn’t have liked to stay like that for too long.

Max then read Karl’s fortune to him. Did he want something to eat? Karl nodded. “When I remove your gag and your blindfold, any attempt to speak and it’s “Hello, Mr Nipple Clips”. Understand? Karl confirmed his understanding. It took Max over five minutes to free his brother’s face from the tape even though his sweat had loosened the blindfold somewhat over the day. WHOOOO, what a relief. Karl spent some time squinting, as his eyes adjusted to the light, and exercising his jaw while Matt returned a plate of lasagne to the microwave. Once Max had finished removing Karl’s gag, he pushed the chair up to the table where Matt had put the plate.

“Eat.”

Karl looked at the pasta and desperately at his gaolers. How was he supposed to eat the food? He did manage not to speak.

“OK, I’ll cut it up for you.” Said Matt, “then get your face in there and get on with it. You’ll be eating anything you spill from the table or the floor.”

Karl did his best and managed at least not to spill anything on the floor. However he got the distinct impression that he’d better not beg to be let off “cleaning” the table. He did his honest best.

“Well done Karl, you’re learning. Want a drink of water? You may answer.”

“Yes please, . . . Master.”

Max got a cereal bowl, filled it with water, placed it on the table and told Karl to get on with it. That look should have drilled right through the younger brother but still Karl refrained from describing him anatomically.

Karl managed to slurp a fair amount of the water and sat up again.

“What do you say, boy?”

“Thank you, Master.” By this stage Karl had abandoned all attempts at defiance.

“Just because you’re learning, I think we’ll grant you a favour.” Karl was deeply suspicious. “How do you enjoy being naked? You may answer.”

“I hate it. . . . Master”

Max wondered whether he’d be ready to beg yet. He was. Karl got onto his knees, begged not to be left naked and kissed his brother’s still bare feet on demand.

“Very well. Let’s see what we can find.” Karl was hoping he’d be allowed his denims again.

“JT, have you got any more Speedos?”

“No, Sir.”

“Briefs or boxer briefs?”

“Yes, Sir. I have some boxer briefs but they’ll be too small for Karl.”

“Oh, how unfortunate. Sorry Karl, you’ll have to wear your black Adidas briefs. Now, where are they?”

Max found them while Matt fitted one of his hoods over Karl’s head, padlocked it and unbound Karl’s feet. He also realised how long Karl’s wrists had been bound and decided to give him a few minutes’ relief. Hooded as he was, Karl was still quite helpless and made the best of about ten minutes’ relative freedom.

“Ready, boy?”

“I’m ready, Master.”

Matt gave him his still rather disgusting Adidas briefs and, working by feel, Karl got them the right way round and managed to get his legs through the correct holes. He pulled them up, adjusted himself and fastened the drawstring. He even found himself saying, “Thank you, Matt.” Matt let the lack of formality go!

“Right, lie down on the floor, face down.” Karl did so unquestioningly. In the meantime Max had got some large cable ties which he used to immobilise his brother temporarily while Matt and he confirmed their plans for the night. Karl found his ankles fastened tightly together along with his wrists. The two ties were then drawn uncomfortably close using a third tie. He still managed to remain silent in case his brother and his mate had even worse treatment up their sleeves.
Last edited by xtc on Wed Feb 26, 2014 9:18 am, edited 2 times in total.
Boxer shorts are cool,
but little speedos rule!

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

Re: ONE FOR LUCK - A WARBANDS SIDE-STORY mm/mmmmm

Postby Jason Toddman » Sun Jan 16, 2011 8:44 am

Excellent installment as usual. Boy, those ties are elaborate! :D
Dare to be different... and make a difference.
To boldly go where no one in their right mind has gone before...

Re: ONE FOR LUCK - A WARBANDS SIDE-STORY mm/mmmmm

Postby xtc » Sun Jan 23, 2011 6:54 am

The story has now been completed but, as I only finished yesterday, I still need some proof-reading time. There are fewer than 2000 words left to post after these chapters and I should have them up by next week.

After that, I might go a bit quiet on this site for a few weeks as I have my story on DeviantArt (under the name xtcgm) that I should really finish. But you never know . . .

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


ONE FOR LUCK



. . . And So to Bed


It was about time to consider going to bed. Both Max and Matt had brought their sleeping bags with them and Max had brought Karl’s with him as well. They didn’t think it would be right to use JT’s dad’s bedroom and it would take a long time to muck-out JT’s room sufficiently to get all of them in so downstairs it had to be.

Max had noticed that the sofa in the front room was in fact a sofa bed. He pulled it out. “OK, that’ll do for you and me. Pity about them.” There then followed some discussion about their prisoners’ overnight accommodation. Once the decisions had been made, Matt went out to JT.

“I’m going to unhook your foot and you’re going to get your sleeping bag and bring it down here. Understand?”

JT said that he did and Matt released his foot from the ropes between his wrists. Just for security, and for the sake of form more than anything else, Matt hobbled his feet before sending him off. JT worked his way carefully upstairs and, with some difficulty, opened his cupboard door and located his sleeping bag which, fortunately, was on the cupboard floor. He squatted down, looked over his shoulder and grabbed the compression sack. He was glad that he had not taken the sleeping bag out for storage. Once he had stood up and re-gained his balance, JT took the tightly packaged sleeping bag downstairs.

Matt ordered JT onto the floor and hooked his right foot into his wrist cuffs again while he and Max turned their attention to Karl. They lifted Karl by his wrists and ankles and dumped him on the front room floor. Karl objected loudly.

“Naughty boy. Looks like we’ll have to stuff that swimming costume you’re wearing into your mouth again.”

“No, please, it was an accident. It won’t happen again! Please!”

“Beg me.” said Max placing his bare right foot on his brother’s neck. About a minute later Max magnanimously agreed to his brother’s humble petition, pushed his head into the carpet and screwed his foot around on it a bit.

Neither Matt nor even Max had any intention of leaving Karl cable-tied for any length of time so they started preparing him for bed. Matt cut the cable ties and Max bound his legs from his ankles to the tops of his thighs with packing tape and then repeated the procedure in reverse. Just for security, Matt tied his ankles and below his knees with rope as well. A final application of paracord between his big toes left even Max satisfied that he had been bound sufficiently. The two boys then slid Karl into his sleeping bag as far as his armpits and applied a vast amount of tape round the sleeping bag just below them. It was a good job that Karl had brought supplies because, if he hadn’t, there would have been a serious danger of the tape running out. There wasn’t much more they could do to him until they’d got JT ready.

JT got away with being treated rather more leniently. His ankles and knees were taped and bound and he was slid into his own sleeping bag as far as Karl had been and taped into it. The second hood was then fastened loosely around his neck.

Both captives were then dragged around the floor and made to sit back to back.

Prior to the fine adjustments, JT’s and Karl’s wrists were freed. Max pulled his brother around a bit until his right arm was aligned with JT’s left. Matt tied a clove hitch round the prepared wrists, pulled it tight and knotted off the rope prior to feeding two coils between the wrists, both of which were pulled tight individually before being knotted twice. Max and Matt reversed roles while Max dealt with the opposite wrists. He then tied the nearest elbows to him together with a longer rope than you’d have thought necessary. Matt repeated the procedure on the opposite side. Max threaded the loose ends of his rope between the prisoners’ sleeping bags where Matt collected them and twined them once outside their elbows before pulling the ends apart thus forcing Karl’s and JT’s elbows in towards their sides. A couple of turns round both elbows and Max came round to hold the knot tight while Matt completed it.

There followed an inspection of the rope work so far and a discussion of the most appropriate next step in the light of it. Should they bind the other loose ends around their prisoners’ chests and around their elbows once more? Should they pull their victims’ wrists towards their bodies? Should they tape their forearms together – or their upper arms? They went for the chest ropes option with a warning that, if the captives managed to loosen their bonds, there was more where that came from.

JT and Karl were very precariously balanced and were very unlikely to be able to remain sitting up all night. Max and Matt considered inserting the yard-broom and the house broom at about elbow level and sticking out both sides but, in the cottage front room, there wasn’t enough space for that and the captors sleeping on the folded out sofa bed as well.

With a final warning about how painful they could make any necessary gags, Max and Matt wished their prisoners, “Goodnight. Sleep tied. Don’t let the clothes pegs bite” (this last said with painful finger-nail pinches to Karl’s exposed shoulders) and got their own bedding ready.

They arranged the cushions from the sofa as pillows, laid their sleeping bags in place and un-zipped them. There was little likelihood that they’d have to zip them up indoors and at that time of year. Matt removed his trackie top and t-shirt. Max liked his tug buddy like that, he was a chunky kid but muscular rather than fat and in what even Matt called his “gay jeans” he looked good. Matt then removed the somewhat tight black cords leaving him in just his AusieBums before he climbed into his sleeping bag. As he removed his long, brown shorts and his t-shirt, Max couldn’t help feeling a pang of regret that Matt and he couldn’t play their own tie-up game that evening.

Max climbed into his sleeping bag. “Night, Matt.” And Max stroked his cheek.

“Night, Max.” And Matt ruffled his hair.


The Morning After


The next morning saw JT and Karl lying on their sides and Matt and Max each with an arm inadvertently draped over the other guy. Those two could both sleep through a train crash and were completely unaware of the plight of JT and Karl.

When Matt finally stirred and extricated himself from both his sleeping bag and Max, he looked around before fully registering where he was. Gradually his head cleared and he noticed Max’s brother and his American friend wriggling ineffectively on the floor. They didn’t seem to have achieved any respite from their bondage overnight and looked to be in desperate need of assistance. He didn’t bother to wake Max and took time for a quick scratch before he sat the prisoners up.

He then clasped his hands round where he assumed their mouths to be and told them that, if they woke his friend up, they’d be hanging by their heels in the garage within the hour, naked and modelling the latest in clothes pegs and clip-its. He then dragged them to where they could lean against the wall. With that he went to the bathroom to complete his early morning routine. When he returned, he replaced his cord jeans, put the kettle on and gave his friend a shake.

Max came to blearily and sat up shedding his open sleeping bag. Matt looked at his slightly built, freckly friend appreciatively as he sat there in just his loose boxers. He too wished that they had an opportunity to indulge in their own tie-up game but he knew there was no time.

Max couldn’t be arsed to shower and just staggered to the outside privy to do what was needed before returning and replacing yesterday’s t-shirt and his shorts. Max didn’t do mornings!

Yesterday both boys had lodged breakfast supplies in the fridge after their trips home and after a short search of the kitchen, Matt started the traditional fry-up, but not before he’d put yesterday’s t-shirt back on. He’d made that mistake before!

Shortly afterwards one of Matt’s famous fry-ups was ready. That included tea of almost navvy strength and fruit juice just to make up for all the fat and sugar. Max and Matt set to with a will. The prisoners did their best to sit still and keep quiet. Even though he was the older brother, Karl knew better than to annoy Max this early in the morning especially now he was tied up.

When they had finished dining, Max and Matt put the dishes in the sink and set about dealing with their prisoners. Whilst doing so, they decided that JT just needed to be kept out of the way but that there was probably time to torment Karl a bit more before tidying up ready for JT’s dad to return. The ropes holding JT’s arms to Karl’s were carefully untied freeing their chests and, following a warning concerning the consequences of any escape attempt, so were the ones securing their wrists. Matt quickly bound JT’s elbows together behind him while Max fastened his brother’s wrists in front of him, palm to palm and tied his thumbs together. The next move was for Matt to produce the trusty penknife again and cut the tape holding Karl’s sleeping bag in place. Max tipped his brother out and onto the floor. He then wrapped several turns of Karl’s own adhesive tape round his arms and torso at the bottom of his biceps and several more round his wrists, clamping them to his thighs thus denying him the opportunity to straighten himself out. Karl was unwise enough to tell his brother that he didn’t like him very much at that stage, but not in those exact words.

“Ah, ah, ah! Not nice!” said Max, pleased to have any excuse to extend his brother’s torment. The next thing Karl felt was the plastic clips fastened onto his nipples and ears again. Not being gagged, Karl continued to give vent to his feelings. He seemed to have forgotten how unpleasant the two younger boys were capable of being to him. Max went for supplies. When he returned, he unlocked Karl’s hood, removed it and yanked back his head by the hair. Before he could react to it, Max forced a small, soft finger exercise ball into Karl’s mouth. It didn’t take long for Matt to help Max to tape it into place. “Thanks for bringing the tape, Brother.” With that Max padlocked the hood back on making it rather tighter this time. He left Karl rolling around grumphing into is gag and desperately trying to dislodge the plastic clips.

Meanwhile, Matt freed JT’s elbows and allowed him some massage time before lightly but securely square-lashing his wrists behind him after assisting Max to gag Karl. “You OK, Yank?”

“Yes, thank you, Master.” Replied JT. All was indeed right with the world.

Matt removed JT’s hood and pulled him from his sleeping bag having first cut the tape off. He then lifted him onto his shoulder, took him through to the kitchen and sat him on a chair. Once there, Matt fed him some breakfast with a spoon and fork. He also gave him some fresh water from a beaker. “Need the loo?”

“Yes please, Master.” Matt replaced JT’s hood and padlocked it securely but not too tightly, undid the rope and cut the tape securing his legs and led him outside. JT eventually managed to pull down his Speedos, settle and do what he needed to do. Cleaning himself was relatively simple but pulling his briefs up again, only from the back proved impossible. When Matt opened the door, JT said, “Sorry, Matt, I’m afraid you’ll have to help.” Matt soon had JT dressed again and even apologised for causing him that much embarrassment. “It’s OK, all part of the game, . . . Master.”

Matt got JT back to the kitchen and sitting on a chair again. He was secured only by having his arms hitched over the back of the chair and a belt fastening his waist to it.

Karl’s thrashing around had managed to dislodge the large spiked clips from his ears but, not being able to get his chest in intimate contact with the floor, he still had the smaller, but equally strong, ones digging painfully into his nipples. Matt helped Max carry his brother into the kitchen and sit him on a chair. By now he was mummified to a considerable extent and started to hope for release when he felt the rope being untied from round his ankles. However, he was quickly secured to the chair by having his thoroughly taped legs drawn back to the cross spindle, his feet hooked uncomfortably over it and tied into place. That forced his bum precariously close to the front of the seat.

“Now we can’t have our guest slipping off, can we Matt?”

“S’pose not, Max. Shall I do the honours?”

“Feel free.”

“NNgggh mmmm.” contributed a desperate Karl to the conversation to absolutely no effect whatsoever.

Max put his foot into his brother’s waist and pushed him back on the chair prior to keeping his foot in place and holding him there. Karl just hoped that his foot wouldn’t “accidentally” slip.

Matt got two ropes and simply joined their middles using an overhand knot. He forced the knot between Max’s strategically positioned foot and Karl’s navel. Taking the free ends of one of the ropes Matt wrapped them each twice round Karl’s waist and arms, pulled them tighter than was probably necessary and knotted them off behind him with a reef knot. The free ends were then tied round the vertical spar in the chair-back allowing Max to remove his foot.

“Brace yourself, Big Brother.” said Max as he took the free ends of the other rope, threaded them between his brother’s forearms and forced them with considerable difficulty between the tops of his brother’s still tightly taped thighs. Karl worried about the effect that would have as Max got a bit too close to his private parts. Shit, he hoped that Matt didn’t have his camera ready.

“Got that one, Matt?”

“Got it.” There was no hope. “A few more later.”

Max pulled the ropes under his brother’s backside, making sure that one passed each side of his bulge as he pulled them tight, and looped them round the spindle. A further yank caused Karl to squeal as he was pinched. The ropes were then tied off separately to the back legs of the chair. There was plenty of rope left for tightening the tie but, having tested the tension, Max decided that it was not needed. All Max’s fidgeting to get the ropes positioned made sure that Matt got some very suitable blackmail photos. By now Karl would have promised anything to bring his torment to an end. He would probably have meant most of them too.

By now Karl was desperate for a leak but it quickly became obvious that he wasn’t going to be given the opportunity. Then the phone went.

Matt brought the phone over to JT and said, “Answer it and no tricks or Mr. Clip-it here goes inside your mate’s swimmers. Understand?” Max stood by his brother with a large plastic clip in one hand and the waist-band of his Adidas briefs in the other although how he’d carry out the threat with the ropes in place, he hadn’t really thought out.

JT nodded and Matt held the hand-set to his ear. He could hear both ends of the conversation quite clearly.

“Hi, Son, it’s your dad. Are you OK?”

“Hi, Dad, I’m fine. Karl’s here with me so’s his brother and another new friend.”

“Good, glad to hear that. I’m on my way home and I’m taking a break now.

“How long do you think you’ll be?”

“Should I be suspicious about that?” JT’s dad said in a joking manner.

“No Dad. Why, what do you think I’d be up to?”

“Nothing, Son, after all you didn’t have much time to organise anything, not that I’d have expected you to in any case.”

”Yes, I suppose I haven’t been able to do anything really.”

“Even having to drive a car that’s not much bigger than a shoe box on the wrong side of the road, I shouldn’t be more than about two hours, in spite of the goddamn roundabouts.”

“OK, Dad, see you about tweve.”

“Love you, Son.”

“Yea, ciao.”

Matt put he phone down and congratulated JT on getting it right. Max was disappointed.
Last edited by xtc on Wed Feb 26, 2014 9:58 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: ONE FOR LUCK - A WARBANDS SIDE-STORY mm/mmmmm

Postby Jason Toddman » Sun Jan 23, 2011 9:32 am

Nice new chapter... I'm almost as sorry to see it coming to an end as 'J.T." must be. :D
Dare to be different... and make a difference.
To boldly go where no one in their right mind has gone before...

Re: ONE FOR LUCK - A WARBANDS SIDE-STORY mm/mmmmm

Postby snobound » Wed Jan 26, 2011 5:17 pm

Excellent additions as always, XTC. I had quite a bit to get caught up on. Very nice ties!!
Try out the TUGs chat! http://chat.mibbit.com/#tugsnet