THE SAILOR BOYS AND THE LAND FARMERS

Postby xtc » Tue Jun 01, 2010 7:32 am

THE LAND FARMERS AND THE SAILOR BOYS


Capturing Jamie


Jamie was looking down. Let’s face it: the rope that drew his neck towards his raised knees was so short that it left him little choice in the matter. He, a proud Scout, (a “Land-Farmer” as the local Sea Scouts put it) was bound and helpless in the middle of the floor of the Sea Scouts’ “Log Cabin” awaiting developments.

It was a fine, warm late May Friday afternoon when Jamie set out straight from school for the Scouts’ Cottage from where, as an Explorer, he was due to supervise the Buzzard Patrol on a weekend hiking & camping expedition. He was a tanned, muscular 14 year-old, the kind of boy that filled his clothing well. He had changes of clothing for the weekend, his PE kit and his school books in the rucksack which he carried as he started the 3 kilometre walk through the Forest to the Cottage. Jamie thought that walking the short distance would loosen him up for the coming exertions and he wanted to arrive well before the Buzzards to make some preparations. Little did he suspect . . !

He entered the inclosure surrounding the Cottage and was thinking pleasant thoughts about the coming week: no school as it was the half term holiday, the fine weather that had been forecast, the company of his brother scouts and no adults nagging him! The Inclosure was usually quiet and deserted because the lack of nearby car parks deterred all but the most determined dog-walkers and picnickers. Suddenly he became aware of the presence of the others.

The Sea Scouts had planned their attack well: the six of them could easily overpower Jamie even though each individual was smaller. They had positioned themselves beside the only sensible approach to the Cottage having persuaded their parents to deliver them by car to the nearest lay-by to the inclosure. They had come equipped with the necessary ropes, neckerchiefs and gaffer tape.

Jamie became aware of the “Sailor Boys” just that bit too late. He was taken down to the ground and spread-eagled face down with a Sea Scout on each limb and one seated on the small of his back, who was helping to constrain his legs. GP, the chubby red-head, appeared to him to be especially evil as he sorted out and selected from a collection of ropes. Not being stupid, Jamie quickly understood that resistance was useless and he prepared himself to accept the inevitable.

The Sea Scouts had already decided that it would not be a good idea to strip their prisoner as they had quite a distance to take him before they reached the Log Cabin and anyone walking in the Forest might see them. Jamie’s Rucksack was unstrapped and taken from him. Action Man and Evan, who held his arms, forced them into a back-hammer position and GP took a rope and applied a cross lashing to his wrists. The Sailor Boys knew what they were doing with their knots!

Jamie knew that, if he resisted, even more misfortune would come to him so he cooperated. In the light of his cooperation he thought that the subsequent application of ropes fastening his upper arms to his torso and up across his shoulders and back to his wrists was a bit cruel! His hands were drawn so high up between his shoulders that his fingers could nearly touch the end of his, admittedly rather long, pudding basin hair style. He was still in his school uniform of charcoal grey trousers, formal shoes and a polo shirt, which left him little protection from the rope biting into his well-developed biceps. He made a mental note that there was a certain red-head with piercing eyes who would suffer horribly once he had the upper hand once more.

Very little talk passed between the captors and their prisoner; it wasn’t necessary. T-Boy took Jamie’s rucksack. Jamie didn’t need telling why the Sea Scouts had kidnapped him. The previous weekend the Twins had stolen the Sailor Boys’ flag. They were out for revenge.

The Sea Scouts needed to get Jamie to the Log Cabin, a distance of about 5 km. Anyone might see them. Alex and Den took Jamie by the arms and propelled him, bent over, along the less popular woodland paths towards the Log Cabin as fast as they could. When they were unfortunate enough to encounter walkers on the same path, they explained that there was no need to worry and that it was just a game. Jamie, who’d been involved in such situations before, also confirmed that it was just a game (What a good job they hadn’t gagged him!).

Eventually the Sea Scouts delivered Jamie to the Log Cabin. By then he had been tied up for about two hours. The two Troops had a history of capturing one another but the provocation of having their flag captured meant that Jamie was probably treated more harshly than usual by the “Sailor Boys”.

Jamie asked to be allowed to visit the toilet. Sam, the SPL of the Sea Scouts, had to make a decision. He put it to Jamie that, if he were to give his word of honour (as a Scout) not to escape, he would be allowed to visit the toilet. Jamie gave his word. GP untied him and Jamie was allowed a few minutes to massage his arms and wrists. Not entirely reassured by Jamie’s promise, Action Man then insisted that Jamie remove his polo shirt leaving him bare-chested and then tied his wrists in front of him using a soft, white rope tied in a classic handcuff knot (with a few extra turns just to make sure . . .).

Although the Log Cabin had a water tap outside, it had no inside toilet. The sanitary arrangements were the traditional outside privy with an “Elsan” bucket. Jamie, being an honourable man, made no attempt to escape but the Sea Scouts still mounted guard outside the door just in case!


Jamie, the Hostage


When Jamie returned, under escort, Sam put it to him that the Sea Scouts were a bit dischuffed (English understatement) by the capture of their flag. He wanted the flag to be returned and the culprits to be delivered, “suitably packaged” as he put it, to his Troop for punishment. He also knew that the Land Farmers needed Jamie if their weekend activities were to take place. Sam was in a strong negotiating position!

The Sea Scouts decided that their prisoner should be photographed in a predicament that would ensure that his own Troop would decide to procure his release as soon as possible. It was obvious that, if the Scouts wanted to ensure the successful completion of their expedition plans, it would be better for them to trade Jamie for almost anyone else from their Troop rather than enter into the usual war between the “Land Farmers” and the “Sailor Boys”.

Jamie was already stripped to the waist with his hands bound securely but not too closely in front of him. He was looking around the Cottage for escape routes but realised that such hopes were pointless. He heard the words that he was dreading: “OK Farmer Boy, strip”. He had the choice: undo his school trousers and wriggle free of them or risk being thrown to the floor and having them (and, perhaps, his underpants) forcibly removed. Jamie was not stupid. He kicked off his shoes and sat down and pulled off his white sports socks. He struggled to his feet and undid his belt, an unusual adornment for an adolescent boy, and tried his best to wriggle free from his trousers. He was, eventually assisted by T-Boy who floored him and pulled them over his ankles leaving Jamie sitting on the floor in only his underpants. At this point Jamie was glad that he was wearing his long boxer shorts with the button fly but he was wishing they were black rather than white.

The Sea Scouts looked at Jamie and decided that it would be good if he was photographed “sitting on the parrot perch”. His knees were forced up between his arms and a cricket stump was threaded over his right arm, under his knees and over his left arm. This restricted his movement almost completely. Jamie accepted it almost uncomplainingly except for the occasional “ouch” and only the odd rude word (The Sea Scouts were surely not all born out of wedlock?).

Following the insults it dawned on Alex that their prisoner was not gagged. It wasn’t really necessary with the nearest public footpath some distance away, but surely Jamie’s Troop would move more quickly if he looked more vulnerable. GP came into action again. He was really stacking up the future retaliation. Jamie didn’t see why he should be gagged, having been cooperative up until that point; it was not something he thought he deserved. GP produced a rubber ball, which he placed into a football sock (one of Jamie’s own navy blue ones retrieved from his rucksack) and offered it to Jamie’s mouth. The only movement left to the victim was to shake his head frantically in an attempt to avoid the gag, which he did. Sam got impatient; he wanted to get on with things. He put it to Jamie: “Either you open wide or we cut off your boxers and the photos go straight to Facebook and YouTube.” Jamie made a mental note that Sam was also due for special attention later. Sam was tall and skinny, a skilled windsurfer and climber, so what there was of him was pure muscle.

Jamie gave Sam one of his “burning” looks. But he did open wide. GP squashed the rubber ball, forced it behind his teeth and tied the sock tightly behind his neck. Up till that point, Jamie accepted that he was going to suffer for what his Troop had done last weekend but he thought that things were going a bit too far now. The final indignity was applied when GP (He should have really considered what was likely to happen to him later.) produced a short length of rope, tied it loosely around Jamie’s neck with a non-slip knot and, with some difficulty, looped both ends around the stump between his knees, drawing Jamie’s head towards his knees. He knotted the rope off and brought the loose ends back up to the prisoner’s neck, fastening it again with a non-slip knot. Jamie was not happy. Jamie was looking down.


At the Cottage


The Scouts went home from school, changed, packed and arrived at the Cottage individually ready for their forthcoming expedition. Some Scouts who weren’t involved turned up too just to get away from home and chill with their mates for a few days at half term with their parents’ permission. Little Steve might have regretted that later.

Things were fairly normal with one exception: Jamie was missing. As each Scout arrived, he noticed the stolen flag that was proudly displayed on the front wall of the Training Room. The Sea Scouts were sure to be unhappy about that!

The “Land Farmers” had a special way of accommodating their “guests” and Scott had already ensured that he was accommodated. His idea of a good weekend was to be bound in various different positions by his mates. He made sure that he was so irritating to the rest of the Scouts early in the evening that they decided to “hang him in the wardrobe”.

The Cottage was an incredible legacy that the Scouts had for their exclusive use and in its training room was a substantial bar which spanned the room at a height of about 2.5 metres. This was ideal for drying out wet canvas. It also had another use. When the Scouts decided to hang someone in the wardrobe, the victim would be fitted with a ball gag (for some reason there was an enviable collection of bondage gear in the cottage!). This would be tightly applied and padlocked at the back of the “guest’s” head. The padlock would be hooked into a chain which would then be slung over the bar. The victim was then hauled up until his heels were clear of the floor. The return end of the chain would be hooked into the padlock and snapped into place.

Scott, with his hands cuffed behind him, was perfectly suited. He was a slim, athletic 14-year old with square shoulders and well-defined pecs. He must have annoyed the rest of the Troop quite a lot because they had stripped him down to his garish square-leg briefs. (from Top Man, as he told everybody) He was beginning to wish that his mum didn’t have his new black Calvin Kleins in the wash.

Scott was looking down!
Last edited by xtc on Mon Feb 17, 2014 1:12 pm, edited 3 times in total.

Re: THE SAILOR BOYS AND THE LAND FARMERS

Postby Jason Toddman » Wed Jun 02, 2010 10:05 pm

Especially for a first post, you're off to an excellent start. Please keep going with the story!
Dare to be different... and make a difference.
To boldly go where no one in their right mind has gone before...

Re: THE SAILOR BOYS AND THE LAND FARMERS

Postby xtc » Thu Jun 03, 2010 11:00 am

Thanks, Jason, I needed some sort of feedback.

PS I love your stories.
xtc
Last edited by xtc on Mon Feb 17, 2014 1:14 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: THE SAILOR BOYS AND THE LAND FARMERS

Postby xtc » Fri Jun 04, 2010 12:56 pm

THE SAILOR BOYS AND THE LAND FARMERS


A Sort of Explanation


It should be understood that most of the boys involved in this story were the best of friends at school. An insult to one would be considered an ill-deed to all. However, the rivalry between the two Troops took precedence over that at weekends and holidays! Even Sam’s own brother, Vic, was a “Land Farmer“.

This rivalry was their reason for being, their entertainment and their excuse for tying one another up at any opportunity.

Both Troops were lucky:
• The Scouts (“Farmer Boys”) had a legacy of what was previously a Forest “cottage” surrounded by about a hectare of land. All that was left of the original cottage, which had burnt down, was the chimney. This had been built into the current training room. Further developments included a shower and toilet block and a small hostel.
• The Sea Scouts (“Sailor Boys”) had the legacy of a real Forest “hovel” or cottage, called the Log Cabin. It had very few modern conveniences but had the advantage of being quite a distance from any public footpaths. It had an over-size wood burning grate and a traditional sleeping loft rather than a first floor. It also had a small galley. There was a large shed for storage purposes and a small plot of land, no more than a tenth of a hectare, for camping and other activities.

The Forest is an area of “open access” land in the South of England. Some of it is wooded (the Inclosures and Ancient Woodlands) but most of it is heathland and deep sphagnum bogs. The two HQ’s are about 5 km apart connected by a network of paths of various standards. The area between the Cottage and the Log Cabin is well wooded making it an ideal venue for the boys’ wide games.


The Negotiations


At the Cottage Vic’s phone gave two short pips. Looking at his phone Vic saw that he had a text message. Opening the message, which he noticed was from his brother, Sam, he read, “we got sumink u need. px on the way”. A little while later Sam had sent two pictures of a very uncomfortable and pissed-off looking Jamie. He was wearing only his underpants and was “sitting on the parrot perch”, almost totally immobilised with his head drawn down towards his raised knees denying him even the ability to look up. The final indignity was the way he had been gagged with one of his own football socks into which a rubber ball had been stuffed. The next text read, “u wanna trade? ring me”.

Vic immediately rang his brother who said that all he wanted was the return of their flag and the culprits “suitably packaged” and ready for punishment. Then they could have Jamie back that evening.

The Scouts needed to come to a decision. Fast!

The Buzzards needed Jamie if their weekend event was to go ahead. There was a problem: the Twins, who had stolen the Sea Scouts’ flag, had been grounded for the weekend by their parents and wouldn’t be around until Monday. Vic explained the situation on his mobile but Sam answered that that was tough and that they’d just have to keep Jamie as their “guest” until the culprits could be handed over on Monday.

Vic asked for time to make a deal. Sam told him he had until Monday!

Zac suggested that the Sailor Boys might be prepared to accept someone in place of Jamie as a hostage. A sort of “ng ng ng” noise came from Scott, who was hanging, gagged and in chains from a rail with his feet barely touching the floor. Wearing just his square-leg briefs, it was only too obvious that he was excited by the possibility of his being the hostage and wanted the others to know it.

“OK, OK, we get the idea, just turn around to face away from us; we don’t want to look at you in that state”, was George’s response. He was Scott’s best friend and well understood that Scott would do almost anything to experience different bondage situations. Scott tiptoed, with some difficulty, to face the other way.

“That’s all very well but who’ll deliver him and free Jamie?” asked Zac, a tall, blond 13 year old who, although he carried a fair bit of excess weight, was a good man in a fight. He knew that the “Postman” would be in danger of becoming a hostage himself.

Vic, a short, dark-haired boy with astonishing eyes that made all the girls’ knees go like jelly when they saw him, was always somewhat irresponsible but, although he often did risky things, he was not unintelligent. He said that he would take the hostage on the final stage because, if his brother had wanted him as a hostage, he would have got a couple of the Sailor Boys to help secure him at home earlier.

The Scouts thought that their offer was worth putting to the Sea Scouts so Vic went back on the phone. Sam put it to his Troop.

Before long the Sea Scouts sent their answer: “No Way!”

They argued that there were two culprits to be delivered so there should be two hostages. Besides, knowing him of old, they knew that Scott would enjoy being a hostage and that the Scouts would not need to bother rescuing him. Sam suggested that, if the Scouts could come up with a second hostage as well, then a deal might be possible.


The Final Arrangement


It was obvious that none of the Buzzards could be the extra hostage because it was their expedition that the Scouts were trying to save. As “Postman” Vic was out of the running. The only remaining candidates were Little Steve, George & Zac. The three boys were used to being tied up during games between the Troops but Little Steve was relatively new to the set-up. They decided to cut cards to decide who should be sacrificed. It would be a matter of honour to abide by the decision.

They decided upon aces high with the lowest cut being the loser. Little Steve (Big Steve is one of the Twins) shuffled the cards, George said when he should stop and Zac got first cut. He drew the eight of hearts and was feeling fairly confident. Steve drew the five of diamonds and hoped that George would be out of luck. George was relieved to draw the nine of spades. Steve accepted that he was to be the sacrificial victim. He had not been involved in this sort of game for as long as the others and, although he had enjoyed himself so far, he felt a certain sense of apprehension about this particular situation.

Vic was on the phone to his brother again. Sam agreed to accept the two hostages as long as Vic sent him pictures of both of them trussed up and gagged in a manner acceptable to the Sea Scouts before they delivered them. The Land Farmers would have to take their hostages through the Forest and deliver them to the Log Cabin. Only Vic would be allowed on to the property and he would have to untie Jamie having secured the hostages outside the Log Cabin.


Preparation


The Land Farmers were reluctant to deliver their ball gag and handcuffs to the Sailor Boys so Scott obviously had to be let out of the “wardrobe” and tied anew. He thought things were getting better and better!

George got the key and undid the padlock that fastened his friend into the chain that kept his heels from the floor and the ball gag fastened tightly into his mouth. Scott lost his balance and collapsed to the floor when he was released, his hands still cuffed behind him. By now he had hung there for well over an hour and needed release, not that he would ever have admitted it. George undid the handcuffs and gave Scott’s wrists a massage. Scott waggled his jaw and took a much needed drink of water from Zac. Zac gave him his lightweight boots to put on. There was no way two bound & gagged boys could have been taken through the Forest barefoot in a reasonable time and without injury.

Vic got two long, soft white ropes from stores. Once Scott had had a few minutes to visit the toilet and finish massaging his aching jaw and painful wrists, he submitted to the rope.

George tied a large, fixed loop in the middle of one of the ropes which only just fitted over Scott’s head. The two ends hung down behind his back. George knew that he didn’t need to be too gentle with his friend but he was thinking that he’d better be kinder to Steve when it was his turn. George tied both free ends together using a figure of eight knot at about the level where Scott’s elbows would be once they were pulled together behind his back. Zac then forced the victim’s elbows so close that they touched. He knew that to be possible due to Scott’s renowned suppleness. After applying several turns around Scott’s arms just above the elbows, George knotted the rope and moved down his forearms knotting it six more times ending at his wrists. The two loose ends were then threaded back up Scott’s forearms, pulling the previous ties tight, and knotted off well out of the reach of his fingers. This left Scott with his hands palm to palm and his forearms tied closely along their length. Scott was rather hoping that his thumbs would also be fastened with cable ties but it didn’t seem appropriate to ask so no one bothered.

Little Steve was watching the procedure with mixed emotions. He was hoping that, when it was his turn, it would not be too painful but he was strangely keen to experience the sensations caused by such restrictive bindings.

Little Steve was a ‘fly swimmer. Although one of the youngest and smallest members of the Troop, he was already developing the triangular body shape typical of such athletes. His broad shoulders made the spindly little legs that poked out from under any shorts that he was wearing look quite out of scale. As well as being a swimmer in training, Steve could climb like Spider Man. He had already stripped down to his knee length black & gold swimming shorts and his walking shoes.

“Sorry, Steve,” said George, even managing to make it sound like he meant it, “Your turn now.” He decided that both boys ought to be bound in the same manner but was worried about being as rough with Steve as he had been with Scott. He need not have worried. In spite of his broad shoulders Steve’s elbows still met behind him when Zac held them in place. Perhaps George didn’t quite tie the little guy as firmly along the forearms as he had Scott but he made sure that Steve was not going to escape from the knots that fastened his elbows and wrists. Steve wriggled to see if there was any relief to be found from the ropes but not with any real intention to escape.

The Scouts had put off gagging the hostages until the last minute. That minute had now come.

Zac found a large reel of grey gaffer tape in the stores and instructed Scott, “Lick your lips.” He then wound several layers of tape tightly round the hostage’s mouth and lower face in general and ripped the tape, pressing the loose end into place. A few more strips were fastened under Scott’s chin and a few more around his head to keep them in place. Scott was going to regret the long hair at the back of his neck later!

Steve saw what had happened to Scott and made a request. In spite of being one of the youngest members, his blondeness concealed an incipient but certainly present moustache. He knew that, when a gag like the one that had just been applied to Scott was ripped from his face, it hurt!

Zac considered for a minute then came up with an idea. He put it to Steve who accepted it even though Zac pointed out that it would be more “uncomfortable” than simply being muzzled with Gaffer tape. Zac cut a straight stick from one of the nearby hazel trees. It was about 2.5 cms thick and he cut it to about 30 cm long. He stripped the bark from it and bound gaffer tape around the middle to form an oval pad. Steve submitted to having the resultant gag placed in his mouth. Zac then took some whip-cord and used it to pull the stick hard back into Steve’s mouth before tying it off round a padded neckerchief to try to avoid some of the pain of having thin cord digging into his victim’s neck. Steve was quite embarrassed about the muffled squeal that escaped as the cord was pulled tight. “You OK, Steve”, enquired Zac who wondered whether he had gone too far. An apologetic looking Steve looked up to him and nodded his head reassuringly.
Last edited by xtc on Mon Feb 17, 2014 2:49 pm, 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: THE SAILOR BOYS AND THE LAND FARMERS

Postby Jason Toddman » Fri Jun 04, 2010 1:23 pm

Sorry if you were looking for an immediate response before; I didn't see your post in time.
Anyway, for something that is fiction this is a very well-detailed story. Do please keep going.
I don't understand why you feel you need to change names if this is fiction, unless you are basing your characters on real people who might resent being in your story. Otherwise, the names you chose seem fine to me. But if you still want to change names or other details, all you have to do to keep the segment in the same place is hit the edit button for that post and make the changes. However, if you want to change many details, it may be easier to rewrite the story elsewhere first, then hit edit, highlight all of what you have in that post now and hit the spacebar to delete it, paste in your replacement story, and there you are. I've had to do this myself occasionally when I remembered certain important or interesting details I left out.
Be sure you have your story backed up before you try to replace it though, so that you can't lose it if you make a mistake. If you have dioubts or questions how to do any changes, ask someone with experience in this first.
Scott sounds very much like me!
Wish I was in the story - for REAL! :twisted: :twisted: :twisted: :twisted:
Like THAT surprises you, huh? :roll:
Anyway, this is an excelent story and so far I see no need for changes at all. :big: :big: :big: :big:
Oh, and thanx for your compliments to my stories. Another installment comes in tonight.
Dare to be different... and make a difference.
To boldly go where no one in their right mind has gone before...

Re: THE SAILOR BOYS AND THE LAND FARMERS

Postby xtc » Fri Jun 04, 2010 1:46 pm

Christ, Jason, that was quick!
Story IS fiction but characters are real.
If you are quoting "Scott" as a major character, I presume tonight's edit has worked.

Sorry, Jason, This IS fiction (notice circular style!) but there is always the chance for your inclusion, as a guest star. But I would need to re-read your stories again. No problem. Knowing your published predelictions, I think our English ways would be a little tame for you.
Do you travel? WHat do you think? Give me an outline.

xtc
Boxer shorts are cool,
but little speedos rule!

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

Re: THE SAILOR BOYS AND THE LAND FARMERS

Postby Jason Toddman » Fri Jun 04, 2010 1:59 pm

I THOUGHT it was a different name than before, but wasn't sure. Guess you already have a handle on edits then. But it sounds like you couldn't tell if it worked; how come? After the edit the revised version should be what appears on your screen.
English ways may be tame for me? Scott gets hung upside down; that's not too tame! :) Tame or not, I'll take them over nothing at all, which is all I have in real life THESE days, sad to say. All my really worthwhile TUGs were in my adolescent years. But if you're willing to use my younger self as a character then definitely feel free. I can live the dream vicariously. :big:
I USED to travel. I was in London, England once, when I was 26. Loved it there too, even though it was only for a few days I got to spent there.
Unsure what you're asking me to outline. If you'd like to use my character go ahead and establish him there as is - or make the character my son if you prefer. Any way you like to portray him is fine with me. :big:
Dare to be different... and make a difference.
To boldly go where no one in their right mind has gone before...

Re: THE SAILOR BOYS AND THE LAND FARMERS

Postby xtc » Sat Jun 05, 2010 3:09 pm

Can someone tell me whether it's alright to continue by just posting rEplies or shouLd I separate chapters?

anyway, here's the next bit.
===========================================================================================================================

THE LAND FARMERS AND THE SAILOR BOYS


Delivery


“OK”, telephoned Vic, “We’re about to bring you your hostages”.

“Hang on”, came the reply, “There was another condition. I want to see photos of the hostages “suitably packaged” before you leave. And don’t think you can untie them as soon as the photos have been taken because there aren’t many of you and we could be anywhere in the Forest watching you.”

“Crap”, thought Vic, “He’s right”.

Vic used his mobile phone to photograph both Scott and Steve from the back to show how firmly they were bound. He also photographed them full face to illustrate their gags. “Bastard”, he thought about his big brother as he sent the photos to Sam’s phone, “Steve could have walked Scott to the Log Cabin and they would both have surrendered themselves honourably without having to go through this”. But it all made fuel for future games!

“Fasten them together, please; it makes them easier to handle at this end. Oh, and by the way, don’t forget to bring some rope for their ankles during the final handover. See you.” was Sam’s passing shot to his brother.

Vic got a short rope and made a loop between Scott’s right upper arm and Steve’s left He knotted it off, leaving a gap of about 50 cms between them. This was not the most secure tie but at least he had done what Sam asked.

It would be getting dark soon and the chances of their being observed were very remote, nevertheless, the Scouts put a plan into action. Walkie-talkies are a great invention over short distances! Zac was to go well ahead of the prisoners, who were escorted by Vic, and George was to bring up the rear by some distance. If Zac encountered strangers on the path, he was to radio Vic who would then help the hostages to hide in the trees and undergrowth by the paths until they had passed. The main enemy as far as George was concerned were cyclists who could overtake the coffle. His task was similar to Zac’s but his reactions needed to be quicker. So did those of Vic and the hostages!

With a final change of batteries in the walkie-talkies, the boys took the stolen flag from the wall and set off. They knew that the 5 km trek with bound prisoners was unlikely to take less than one and a half hours even with cooperative captives. Their intention was to accomplish the mission in an hour. Steve and Scott tacitly agreed.

As it happened there were no encounters on the way but it wasn’t easy to move quickly especially as the hostages were gagged and able to breathe only through their noses. Unable to use their arms for balance, the best gait appeared to be a quick, coordinated walk while Vic stood between them supporting them with his arms. They covered the distance in about 80 minutes, which included two short “recovery time” stops.

Zac got to the gate first followed by Vic and the hostages and finally George. The gate was about 10 metres from the door to the Log Cabin and Sam saw the party arrive. He said there were conditions. Vic smelled a rat.

Sam assured Vic, on his honour, that he was safe from capture and was guaranteed safe passage to and from the site. He reminded the Scouts that only Vic was to be allowed onto the property and demanded that he strip down to his boxer shorts first. Vic then called his brother something very unfillial! “Suit yourself, that’s the condition. Do you want Jamie back or not?” asked Sam. He held all the cards. Vic stripped until he was left in just his somewhat brief, loose, grey boxers.

“That’s better, Little Brother”, said Sam, “I don’t want any tricks. Now let’s get on with this”.


The Exchange


Vic was told to bring Scott and Little Steve half way to the cottage. He did so and Sam told the hostages to kneel down and cross their ankles. He didn’t want his prisoners running off as soon as Jamie was released, so Vic had to tie their ankles. He went behind Scott and tied his ankles as though he was square-lashing pioneering poles. The sea Scouts made sure that his knotting was tightened off properly at the end. They were quite impressed by Vic’s tying. “Not bad for a Land Farmer”, etc. This left Scott looking very vulnerable, kneeling, dressed in just his briefs with his knees spread wide apart.

Steve suffered the same fate and by now Vic was so irate about having been forced to strip off that he wasn’t as gentle as he had intended to be with the little swimmer.

“That’s nice; two very acceptable packages”, announced Sam. “Take their shoes off then you’d better come in.”

“Sorry, guys”, said Vic as he removed Scott’s boots and Steve’s shoes and headed for the Log Cabin.

“Mm-mm”, and, “Mf-ff”, they replied trying to reassure him that it was alright.

As Vic entered the Cabin, Action Man emerged smiling with a roll of black gaffer tape and heading for the hostages. Upon entering the Log Cabin, which by now was illuminated by two Tilley lamps and the flickering of a log fire, Vic noticed Jamie sitting on the floor almost completely immobilised. He handed the stolen flag to Sam who nodded cursorily and then tipped his head towards Jamie indicating that he could free his friend.

“Goo-ee”, said Jamie as he saw Vic, who reassured him that it wouldn’t be long now ‘til he was free. He took a careful look to see what would be the best way of alleviating his plight. The obvious thing to do would be to remove the stump that was forcing Jamie into a closely confined ball. He pulled the stump free resulting in a prolonged “Nnghah” of relief from Jamie. There was an explosion of unravelling boy as Jamie was able to move once more. He quickly tore the gag from his mouth leaving the soggy section of sock containing the rubber ball hanging against his chest. Vic untied his hands and removed the rope that was tethering his neck. Jamie was now completely unfettered.

He climbed unsteadily to his feet, asked for water, which he was given, untied the football sock and started to dress.

Sam clarified the rules and Jamie agreed that, as they had been exchanged for him, it would not be honourable to try to recue the hostages immediately upon his release. Anyhow, his team was outnumbered and he was needed at the Cottage.

As Vic and Jamie left the Log Cabin, having collected Jamie’s rucksack, they noticed that Action Man was on guard and that the hostages had several layers of gaffer tape wrapped round their heads blindfolding them effectively. The rope between their arms was no longer in place leaving the two boys separated. So much for Steve’s hopes of avoiding being taped. He was not looking forward to having his blindfold removed.

Jamie assured the prisoners that the Twins were due to arrive at the Cottage early on Monday morning and that he wouldn’t tell them about the fate in store for them in case they changed their minds. He would deliver Big Steve and Joe as early as possible and that the hostages were not to worry: revenge would be theirs! The two boys left the property shutting the gate behind them and Vic quickly dressed stopping only to shout threats of future retribution to the Sailor Boys and remarks about how much he loved his big brother.

The four Scouts started heading back to the Cottage.
Last edited by xtc on Tue Feb 18, 2014 8:50 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: THE SAILOR BOYS AND THE LAND FARMERS

Postby Jason Toddman » Sat Jun 05, 2010 3:50 pm

Great continuation. Please keep it up.
If I understand your question at the beginning of this post correctly please keep posting continuations to this story as replies just as you have been doing here so far so that the whole story can be found in one topic and we don't have to search around for the various chapters. This is in fact what the moderators have requested, but not everyone does it. This way when your story is finished it can be read in one go in the correct order whenever any of us want to. Each reply you put in still counts as a separate post in any case, so you lose nothing in the way of postiing credits and it makes reading your stories more convenient for everyone.
Of course when you begin a new, unrelated story, THAT should be posted under New Topic the first time, and then continued the same way!
I hope that was the answer you were looking for.
Dare to be different... and make a difference.
To boldly go where no one in their right mind has gone before...

Re: THE SAILOR BOYS AND THE LAND FARMERS

Postby xtc » Sat Jun 05, 2010 4:16 pm

Exactly,
Wassai!
xtc
Boxer shorts are cool,
but little speedos rule!

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

Re: THE SAILOR BOYS AND THE LAND FARMERS

Postby xtc » Thu Jun 10, 2010 2:06 pm

THE LAND FARMERS AND THE SAILOR BOYS


Receiving the Guests


Shortly after Jamie and his escort had departed, Evan took a Tilley lamp out and placed it by the hostages. That meant that Action Man could come into the warm and the Sea Scouts could keep an eye on them from the comfort of the Log Cabin. Not that Steve and Scott could see, having been totally blindfolded by Action Man before he went inside.

The two hostages had been left barefoot and bare-chested, kneeling, ankles crossed and knees apart, forearms more or less mummified behind their backs, gagged and blindfolded on the rough grassland facing the Log Cabin. It was beginning to get cold now and the boys wondered whether the Sea Scouts were going to leave them outside overnight.

Although Scott had been more comfortably muzzled with gaffer tape, it must be said that Zac had pulled it tightly against his teeth. Steve, though, was really feeling the need of having the gag, that was forcing his jaws apart and digging into the edge of his mouth, removed. Both boys had been bound and gagged for over two hours

Eventually Action Man came out again and, going up to Steve without saying anything to him, pushed him forward onto his stomach, resulting in a surprised, “Nnngh”, and released his ankles which had thus been forced into the air. Steve felt something cold, hard and flexible slipped over his neck. He gave an “Ungh” of surprise which caused Scott to turn towards him and try to see what was going on but to no avail. Steve guessed correctly that it was a choke chain. He had experienced that before! Still without saying a word to him, Action Man eased Steve quite gently to his knees. Steve was thus forewarned. After a few seconds he was yanked unceremoniously to his feet. Steve staggered a bit, having been left in the kneeling position for so long and he was given time to steady himself before being led off.

As he was lead away, Steve could feel the ground change beneath his bare feet: the coarse, close-cropped Forest sward gave way to gravel and, after nearly tripping over what was obviously the Log Cabin’s front step, he felt first flagstones and then floor boards underfoot. He felt a sensation of warmth hit his bare body as he was led onto a thin mat. Action Man then pushed his knees into the back of Steve’s knees, forcing him to the ground. He then hobbled his ankles with rope leaving him about 30 cm of separation between his ankles. Steve didn’t know it but he was now kneeling on a mat in front of an open fire.

The sensation of warmth was very welcome.

“Come on, Lads, give him a break.” The words came from T-Boy who was bullied in his previous school, and, although he enjoyed the tying up games, he knew when a game had gone too far. He suggested that, if Steve promised that he wouldn’t speak without permission, his rather severe gag should be removed. Steve gratefully nodded his assent and T-Boy removed his gag. Steve was almost tearful with relief and gratitude as he waggled his aching jaw & licked his lips. He only wished he could rub the places where the cords had cut into his cheeks and neck.

True to his word, Steve said nothing. T-Boy gave him water and Steve, having drunk it greedily said, somewhat indistinctly, “Permission to speak?”

Sam granted permission and Steve said that he was desperate for the loo. When Sam asked him, “Standing up or sitting down?” Steve had to admit being desperate for both. “If you give your word of honour that you won’t interfere with your blindfold or remove your hobble, I think we can make arrangements. What do you think?”

“I promise, on my honour, that I will not interfere with my blindfold or hobble.”

Action Man then started to untie Steve’s arms. There was a sound somewhere between a gasp and a grunt as the last knot was untied but Steve stuck to his promise not to speak. He revelled in the new-found freedom but was surprised by the quite painful sensation of the blood returning to his arms and hands. The Sea Scouts gave him a few minutes to massage his newly freed arms before Evan and Action Man grabbed an arm each, back-hammered him and led him out of the door, round to the back of the building and into the outside toilet. His progress was hampered by the ropes connecting his ankles but, after having taken part in a few previous games, he was learning the most efficient ways of moving.

Steve was told that, once he had seated himself over the hole, he would find toilet paper on the wall on his right hand side. He would just have to feel around for it. The door was locked (an outside lock was needed on an outdoor facility containing an Elsan bucket and the necessary chemicals) and the guards said that they would return in five minutes.

When the guards returned and unlocked the door, Steve was taken from the privy, still blindfolded and hobbled. He was then pressed against a wall and his hands were lifted into the small of his back. He could feel the rope being bound vertically around his crossed wrists, tied off and then looped horizontally as his wrists were allowed to drop. “Just for luck” the ropes were then tightened by being passed between his wrists and knotted off. The ends of the rope were drawn up and knotted loosely round Steve’ neck hitching his wrists into the small of his back again.

Steve was then returned to the mat in front of the fire.

Scott had been left on his own in the cold for some time now and was beginning to think that he was going to be left there overnight when Action Man came out to him. It was obvious that Scott was apprehensive about having been forgotten so Action Man spoke to him before starting the well practiced process of receiving a “guest”.

“Don’t worry, you haven’t been forgotten”, Scott heard as he was thrown onto his belly at the start of the process. Scott started to feel “relieved”.

The well rehearsed procedure soon saw Scott on his feet, hobbled and shuffling into the Log Cabin on the end of a choke chain.

Even though Scott had been relatively “comfortable” with his muzzle compared to Steve, he still needed to visit the toilet. He gave his word of honour not to interfere with his blindfold or hobble. His muzzle was removed, with several heartfelt squeals as the tape was tugged from his hair. Water was offered and accepted and a visit to the lavatory engineered.


The Sailor Boys’ Dilemma


This left the Sea Scouts with two prisoners kneeling in front of the fire. This was a problem for the Sailor Boys:
• The Scouts needed feeding and looking after for the weekend.
• They didn’t really want to torture the “volunteer” hostages. They wanted to reserve the real pain for the Twins! (Although they might make exceptions.)
• They would need to mount a careful guard over their hostages at all times to prevent their rescue or escape.


OK, that,s the latest. Am I going on too long?
Last edited by xtc on Tue Feb 18, 2014 8:56 am, edited 1 time in total.
Boxer shorts are cool,
but little speedos rule!

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

Re: THE SAILOR BOYS AND THE LAND FARMERS

Postby Jason Toddman » Thu Jun 10, 2010 9:42 pm

As long as the story is interesting, there is no such thing as too long.
IOW, in answer to your last question: Is this too long? F**K, NO!
Now please keep going!!! :big:
Dare to be different... and make a difference.
To boldly go where no one in their right mind has gone before...

Re: THE SAILOR BOYS AND THE LAND FARMERS

Postby luckydog3 » Fri Jun 11, 2010 10:45 am

Enough holding back, time for...


TICKLE TORTURE!!!!!

Re: THE SAILOR BOYS AND THE LAND FARMERS

Postby xtc » Sat Jun 12, 2010 5:39 am

Thanks for the suggestion but, I repeat, the real torture was being reserved for the Twins.
And there are other ways, wait and see!

Anyway, Here's the next bit:
===========================================================================================================================

THE LAND FARMERS AND THE SAILOR BOYS


Entertaining the Guests


T-Boy was always a bit of an outsider. He spent as little time at “home” as possible. He loved his parents but there were problems. He was shuffled regularly between his mother’s and his father’s flats. At his mother’s flat he always had to sleep on the sofa. He says that he learned to cook out of self-defence. And he was good! He even managed to win prizes for cake-making in the Forest Show, much to the annoyance of the local old ladies who were unimpressed by being bettered by a 14-year old, and even worse: a MALE! He was 183 cm tall, rather baby-faced and without any noticeable muscle definition. But he was strong and possessed great stamina. He was not a man to give up on a task or one to forgive easily!

The Log Cabin had a small galley where T-Boy was in residence. It had a calor gas powered range stove, and Burco boiler, a large Belfast sink set upon a very sturdy metal framework which was fastened firmly to the floor, a reasonable work surface and a lot of useful storage.

The smell of the Chilli that Jacob (that’s the name that T-Boy’s parents gave him) had been preparing for supper was filling the Log Cabin in a tantalising way. The sea Scouts were entertaining themselves by playing cards by the light of the Tilley Lamps whilst waiting for the call to eat. They were deliberately making no mention of their captives who, being blindfolded, didn’t dare make any moves but they were beginning to wonder whether they had been forgotten.

At last the call came from the Galley and the Sea Scouts greedily devoured the chilli and steaming rice. All except Den, who believed that salad was poisonous to all true Englishmen, also let the pungent juices run down into a white cabbage salad. It says something for T-Boy’s cuisine that he could even get the lads to eat health-food!

It was now very late at night and the smell of the food was a torment to Scott and Steve made worse by the fact that T-Boy announced that he had put some ice cream in the small gas fridge in the Galley. The Sea Scouts relaxed with their desserts whilst making ostentatious noises of appreciation. Steve was considering whether to ignore the fact that he was on his word of honour not to speak and simply to beg for food. The thought of having “that gag” replaced and still being left hungry deterred him. But it was a close run thing!

The Sea Scouts, of course, had no real intention of letting their hostages starve; they just wanted them to suffer a bit. Evan went across to Scott, put the choke chain on him without saying a word and pulled him forward. Scott took the hint and shuffled on his knees towards the table where T-Boy had laid him a bowl. Evan pulled the chain relatively gently until Scott was kneeling at attention, with his thighs vertical at the end of the enormous refectory table. Scott even found it reassuring to have been paid some sort of attention at last.

Evan took a dessert spoon, scooped up some of the chilli, rice & cabbage and offered it up to Scott’s mouth. As it came under his nose, he opened his mouth and accepted the food. It might no longer have been as hot as it should have been but to Scott it was a life-saver. Evan kept feeding Scott, a little clumsily, until the entire helping had been consumed leaving the nearly naked boy with red juices running down his chin and chest and, not being able to see, wondering if he had finished what was on offer. He was not offered ice cream!

As Evan pulled his chain away from the table, Scott realised that that was all he was going to get. He clumsily turned around still on his knees and followed Evan back to his place in front of the fire. “That beat the last time”, he was thinking. The last time he was made to eat out of a bowl on the floor like a “good little doggy”. He still owed GP for that one.

By now Little Steve could have eaten the proverbial poorly monkey. Being blindfolded, he didn’t really know that Scott had been fed because the Sea Scouts were talking amongst themselves without making reference to it and Evan fed him in total silence. The choke chain went round his neck and Steve in turn was taken to the table, made to kneel upright and fed spoonfuls of the, by now, no longer very warm chilli and rice. He managed to make even more of a mess than Scott and ended up not only with juices running down his chin and chest but food adhered to his nose, his pale torso and his shorts. Nevertheless he ate hungrily and it made an amusing photograph for Sam. Both hostages were given water from a camel pack.

The Sea Scouts were still left with two prisoners to care for. Not to entertain them would be rude, wouldn’t it?


Time to Pay


“Right, now you’ve been fed, it’s time to pay. You two are going to help us out”, Sam was explaining to the unfortunate captives. “One of you is going to express his gratitude to T-Boy by washing up and cleaning the galley. The other one is going to help young Alex demonstrate what he’s learned about how to tie someone up.”

Alex was a red-head with much darker hair than GP. He also tried to spend as much time away from his rather troubled home as possible. His face was freckly and his eyes a bit funny. Although he was one of the younger members of the Troop, he was remarkably muscular. He hadn’t been in the Troop for very long and Action Man made a bet with him. Action Man (known as Tony to his parents) was renowned as the best tier in the troop although GP was the far more devious tormentor of prisoners.

Last week Action Man had hog-tied Alex as part of a demonstration. At the end of the demo Alex asked not to be released but to be allowed to try to escape without help. After two hours he had to beg to be released having only managed to separate his wrists from his ankles but still having his arms firmly in place behind him. Action Man goaded Alex and bet him that he could not tie the next prisoner they took well enough to hold him for more than two hours. In a rash moment Alex took the bet. Then he remembered: there’s always a price for losing.

There are no prizes for guessing which task Scott wanted.

The hostages were told that to decide who was going to be the Galley Slave, they would play “scissors, paper and stone” on Action Man’s call. “One, two, three.” went the call and both boys extended two fingers. “Scissors play scissors. One, two, three. Paper wraps stone.”

“Yes, result!” called Scott in his excitement realising that he was not to be the Galley Slave but forgetting about that word of honour not to speak. “Oh crap, sorry, Guys”, said Scott but too late. GP produced a new rubber ball, the Sea Scouts’ favourite gag, Den forced Scott’s head back and GP stuffed the squidgy ball deep into Scott’s mouth. It was quite an impressive bit of teamwork between GP, Den and Alex who quickly stretched a piece of surgical tape over Scott’s mouth sealing it carefully into the contours of his lips, cheeks and jaw. The whole process can’t have taken more than 20 seconds. The surgical dressing could have been made for the job. It was more sticky than gaffer tape and looked really good when positioned carefully.

The three boys stood back to admire their handiwork while Scott shook his head violently in a futile attempt to shake the tape clear. “Time to test the gag” announced GP. This didn’t sound too good to Scott. There was a short delay while someone seemed to be searching for something. Den grabbed Scott’s shoulders firmly and shortly afterwards Scott felt a sudden, intense pain in both his nipples.

“Yes!”, “Woo-Hoo” and other cries of triumph and derisive laughter rang out as Scott’s scream was effectively muffled. “Gentlemen, our gag works.” announced GP solemnly.

Isn’t it surprising how little of, “Alright, you bastards, now take them off” can be understood through a rubber ball and a layer of surgical tape?

Having been released by Den, Scott wriggled desperately trying to shake the bulldog clips from his chest. He threw himself forward onto the mat frantically trying to rub them off against the floor. T-Boy took pity on him after about 30 seconds, lifted him to his knees and unclipped him. He chose to interpret the “Ng Hnn” from Scott as, “Thank you” - but it might not have been.

Little Steve could only guess as to the torments his fellow hostage was suffering but he wasn’t too keen to share them and so ensured that he kept still and VERY quiet!

===========================================================================================================================


Any comments?
Last edited by xtc on Wed Feb 19, 2014 6:26 am, edited 1 time in total.
Boxer shorts are cool,
but little speedos rule!

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

Re: THE SAILOR BOYS AND THE LAND FARMERS

Postby Jason Toddman » Sat Jun 12, 2010 10:51 am

I still wish I could be in Scott's place!!! :big: :big: :big:
Please keep it up. If you haven't even gotten to the 'good part' yet (according to you); then that will certainly be something special to read!
You are doing very good with this story. Have you ever experienced anything similar, been inspired by other stories, or do you just have a very good imagination?
Dare to be different... and make a difference.
To boldly go where no one in their right mind has gone before...

Re: THE SAILOR BOYS AND THE LAND FARMERS

Postby MustBeDreaming » Tue Jun 15, 2010 3:51 am

Really great stuff!
The first segment with Jamie was especially exciting. I think the tension of Jamie's worth, and the sense of urgency really made it the best.
I think perhaps when the Twins are handed over, it could be interesting to have the Land Scoute attempt to take them back, at the Sea Scouts knowledge.

The tension of stakes and threats is kinda missing from the scene with the volunteers (still great!)
I just think the decisive coersion, where the captive is given choice, but they really have little choice (I.e, Jamie's initial refusal to take the gag, which was then rebutted by Sam's threat to strip him and post the photos) really makes it very....tactical.

Great story, though, I really look forward to reading the rest!

Re: THE SAILOR BOYS AND THE LAND FARMERS

Postby xtc » Tue Jun 15, 2010 7:24 am

Thanks for that detailed appraisal. And thanks for the encouragement.

I don't want to post any quicker as I am an habitual draughter & re-draughter (is that the spelling?); or anally retentive old fart as certain of my so called friends so kindly put it.

Story is draughted but writing it makes the shifting sands appear. I hope there are not too many inconsistencies.

xtc
Boxer shorts are cool,
but little speedos rule!

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

Re: THE SAILOR BOYS AND THE LAND FARMERS

Postby xtc » Tue Jun 15, 2010 12:36 pm

THE LAND FARMERS AND THE SAILOR BOYS


The Galley Slave


T-Boy approached his slave, who was still blindfolded and hobbled with his wrists fastened in the small of his back. He even still had the choke chain round his neck.

T-Boy used a small kitchen knife carefully to cut a slit in the layers of gaffer tape at the back of Steve’s head. Putting the knife down T-Boy pushed his fingers down between the tape and Steve’s head several times, loosening it somewhat and causing a lot of flinching and desperately suppressed squeals. He then quickly pulled the cut ends of gaffer tape from the back of Steve’s head and round to the front thus removing it forcibly.

That hurt!

In spite of his word of honour, Steve vocalised!

“That’s alright”, T-Boy reassured him, “You need to be allowed to speak so that you can be very, very polite to your masters”.

He was led, still on his knees, by the choke chain to the table where, now his vision was recovering, Steve could see the Sea Scouts sitting playing cards and drinking Coke. A lot of the things in the Log Cabin had been “re-cycled” from elsewhere. The huge refectory table measured about 1.8 by 3 metres. It was great as a dining table and for laying-out maps. It was even better for stretching out enemies for interrogation.

Little Steve was instructed to go round each of the Sea Scouts in turn and ask, politely, if it was OK to clear his dishes. This was to be no easy feat. He was not allowed to stand up. T-Boy released his arms from the rope, removed the choke chain and instructed him to start. He asked Sam, “Pease, Sir, May I clear your plate now?” Sam graciously assented and Steve reached the plate, ice cream bowl, fork and spoon and stacked them. By the time he had done this to all present (except Scott) Steve was building quite a pile of crockery and cutlery. He was also building quite a pile of resentment!

T-Boy announced that his slave could stand up for the rest of his task. He must not, however put down his burden. Steve spotted the trap immediately. He was still hobbled and it would be difficult enough to stand even without an armful of dishes and cutlery. He had found out in the past that, if he got into a seated position, crossed his ankles and leaned forwards he could stand without using his hands except for balance. However, he had never had to change from kneeling to sitting or from sitting to standing without using his hands whilst trying not to drop a somewhat unstable load.

He was beginning to appreciate the “prospect of revenge and retribution” aspect of the games in which he was becoming involved.

He just about managed the transition from kneeling to sitting in spite of its having been made more difficult by a 30 cm hobble between his ankles. Steve was suddenly aware that the Sea Scouts were no longer ignoring him. They were enjoying his distress and making informal bets on whether he would manage to stand without dropping anything thus avoiding further punishment.

The Sea Scouts didn’t really mind if the load was dropped. Plastic and metal both bounce. But watching the Galley Slave suffer did make for good sport.

There was sneaking admiration for what Steve had achieved so far. He went for it. He crossed his legs, tucked them in, offered the pile of utensils forwards to assist balance and, quite slowly, stood up.

There was even a short round of applause from his captors when he succeeded and appreciative calls the like of, “Come on, My Son” and, “Nice one, Shorty”.

T-Boy led his slave to the galley and the rest of the hostage takers turned their attention to Scott.

As Galley Slave, Steve had to start with the washing up. T-Boy replaced the hobble with a length of chain. On one end of the chain a hobble of about the same length was padlocked tightly to each ankle. The other end was fastened to the metal framework supporting the sink. This allowed Steve to reach all areas of the small galley but he could not leave it.

T-Boy then produced another length of chain. This was comparatively light with short links. There were also two small padlocks. They were quite rusty and had obviously been well used. This chain was padlocked tightly around the slave’s wrists leaving him about 60 cms of separation to enable him to perform his tasks.

The galley was on the opposite side of the room from the fire and, if the boiler was not on, it would not have been particularly warm for a boy wearing only his swimming shorts. As it was the flagstones were cold on his bare feet. From where he was he could see what was happening to Scott but didn’t dare to look for too long in case the Sea Scouts decided that he wasn’t working as hard as a slave should.

Steve soon washed the plates, bowls & cutlery using the supply of water from the calor gas boiler topped off with cold water from a nearby bucket. He then had to clean the cooking pots and preparation utensils. The next task was drying up and putting away. T-Boy was very particular about the tidiness and hygiene of “his” galley and there was a labelled place for everything. This made Steve’s labours reasonably easy and it was with a considerable sense of relief that he finally put away the last vessel.

Steve now took the opportunity to see how Scott was doing. Not a pretty sight!

T-Boy heard Steve call, “Please, Sir, I’ve finished.” This was probably a wise move, although it might not seem so. If he was not seen to be busy, further suffering was sure to ensue. T-Boy came away from the “entertainment” being provided by Scott to inspect the work so far.

He looked around his precious galley and noticed the remains on the food preparation area. He also decided that the galley in general was not clean enough for him. He took Little Steve’s jaw in his hand and tilted his head up to face him. “Clean this place up, slave.”

By now Steve had used all the boiling water for the dishes and there was no inside tap. Not good news. His master decided that Steve would have to make several journeys to the outside tap with a bucket to refill the boiler. There was no point in Steve’s trying to escape with the hobble and shackles on him. The Sea Scouts could hear his chains rattling to get a good idea of where he was.

T-Boy released his slave from the metal support, leaving him still hobbled and dragging the rest of his chain around. He also decided that, for the job in hand, Steve didn’t need so much separation of his hands. So he added another padlock shortening the chain to about 15 cms.

A full 20 litre bucket would have been heavy enough already for the little blond guy to carry with his hands fastened in front of him, but he would have to do it at least eight times, even without spillage, to ensure that the boiler was full. And it was now quite cold outside. Even the hard labour could not induce a sweat and there was now nearly as much goose-pimple as there was slave after the first few deliveries.

It must be said that T-Boy was not the only one becoming impressed by the little Land Farmer’s fortitude and stoicism.

The job was eventually completed after 10 bucketsful had been delivered but, of course, the water was not yet even tepid.

Having scraped the food preparation area clean and taken the food remains outside to the compost heap, Steve thought that it really wasn’t necessary for his master to fasten him to the sink support again. His master disagreed. He didn’t even lengthen his wrist shackles again. The chains were now chaffing quite badly but Little Steve didn’t want to display weakness.

The Galley Slave was left with water that was just off cold at best as he took the scrubbing brush to the galley surfaces. The loose section of his wrist restraints clanked almost rhythmically as he scrubbed. But there was worse to come.

The galley floor was now quite cold as Steve had to get down on his knees and scrub it. There was only the heat from the burner at the bottom of the boiler for comfort. The hard flagstones took some scrubbing before T-Boy was satisfied.

As Steve dried-off the floor, he wondered how much longer he could carry on but a quick look at Scott’s sufferings enabled him to find extra reserves.

His labours at an end, T-Boy unchained his slave from the support and took him across to the fire, next to where Scott still struggled to free himself from Alex’s hog-tie. The extra heat was welcome.

T-Boy noticed the chaffing caused by the tightness of the chains that he had applied to his slave earlier. He removed the padlock shortening Little Steve’s wrist shackles and loosened the loops around his wrists by two links. Steve was still unable to slip his wrists through the loops but the links of the chain no longer dug into him. The chain around his ankles was also loosened by one link on each side.

Steve was then ordered to step through the wrist-chain to put his wrists behind him. The padlock was then replaced drawing the slave’s wrists as close together as possible. His tormentors knew that he was supple enough to slip his backside between his arms and get his hands in front of him if the link was too long.

GP approached him with a roll of gaffer tape ready to blindfold him. Having had the previous blindfold ripped from his head, Little Steve wasn’t exactly keen to have the procedure repeated. It was time for drastic action. He decided that dignity could go hang.

“Permission to speak, my Masters.” implored the humble slave. Or at least that’s how he hoped the Sailor Boys would see it.

Permission was granted as long as the slave was prepared to touch his nose to the ground and beg.

“Dignity, be buggered.” he thought and knelt down and bent forwards, falling as he neared the floor until he was prostrate. He begged not to be blindfolded with the tape. He would rather suffer any alternative.

His masters graciously deigned to grant his humble petition. The Sea Scouts still needed him blindfolded in a way that would last overnight.

Steve felt like crap but he couldn’t put up with having tape pulled from his hair again and, as he lay there face down, he wondered what alternatives there were. He soon found out.

T-Boy found two redundant hike-tent bags in stores. They were the duffle bag style with draw strings at one end.

Steve was hauled to his knees. GP, as usual, sprang into action. He pulled the smaller bag over his head and used the draw string to fasten it, not too tightly, around his neck.

Even in the subdued light, Steve could still see light passing through the fabric when he faced the fire. Then GP added the second, rather more substantial bag over the first one. After it had been tied on, it was pulled down far enough to give a fair amount of fabric at the prisoner’s neck. The job was completed by the application of gaffer tape, again none too tightly, round both the bag and the victim’s neck. That did the job!

Little Steve had been here before (except for the chains and tent bags): on his knees, hands fixed behind him, hobbled and blindfolded. Plus ça change . . .


Alex’s Bet


The bet was on: Alex v Action Man – David v Goliath. Alex needed to restrain Scott for more than two hours if he was to win and avoid the inevitable consequences.

Action man saw the fly in the ointment: Scott had already been restrained for several hours. He wouldn’t have the strength that he would have had earlier. He was also acknowledged as the most enthusiastic victim in their tie up games. Then inspiration struck.

Action Man put his mouth close to Scott’s left ear and whispered something. The resultant, “Nga, nga” accompanied by a frantic shaking of the head seemed to be somewhere between despair and genuine terror. Action Man thought it was a job well done.

Alex collected several lengths of rope and approached his previously far from reluctant prisoner. Scott understood that he had to submit to being bound by Alex but now he knew that, after the job was done, he had to make serious efforts to escape.

Alex inspected his subject. He was wearing only briefs. His wrists had been bound and he had been kneeling continuously for about two hours. He had been blindfolded for even longer and had recently been gagged with a rubber ball and surgical tape. Things were looking up for Alex.

Alex needed to make sure that it was HIS tying that kept Scott helpless but it was decided by the audience that the blindfold and gag didn’t need replacing. Alex unhitched Scott’s arms from his neck and untied his wrists.

After a short “mercy” time where the victim was, by general consent, allowed to massage his wrists and neck and stretch his aching arms, Scott’s arms were, once more, drawn behind him palm to palm. Alex wound four rounds of rope carefully round his subject’s wrists, adjusted the tension and knotted them off. He then tightened them using a further two rounds tied across the loops between the victim’s wrists.

He was reasonably happy with the result but knew that he could take no chances. He added a few figure-eight loops above the originals and knotted them off finishing with another turn between the wrists which was then knotted off tightly – twice! Scott was starting to worry about his ability to escape from this skilful, young “ginger’s” rope work.

The final knot left the rope-ends in the correct position for the impending hog-tie.

Alex was now getting a bit cocky and took a chance. “How do you want your rocking horse, gents: Knees together or ankles crossed?”

The audience decided that they wanted a “slim rocking horse”.

“Shit”, thought both Alex and Scott, more ropes to be tied and loosened.

Alex started upon his subject’s legs. First a clove hitch around both ankles, pulled tight and, followed by two further loops, tied off and drawn tighter by knotting the rope between the subject’s legs. He then continued up Scott’s legs giving a similar treatment below his knees and another above his knees.

By this stage Scott would have normally been in ecstasies but he couldn’t help thinking about what Action Man had whispered to him.

Alex was now considering whether or not to tie his victim’s elbows but he decided to delay the decision until he’d completed his intended hog-tie. He could always use the technique later if he needed to tighten things up a bit.

Alex threaded one of the free ends of the rope binding Scott’s wrists between his ankles and, having crossed and twined both ends, separated the ends of the rope pulling his subject’s hands so close to his feet that they touched. He put his knee on the unfinished knot pushing Scott’s feet towards his behind thus ensuring that the rope would not slacken. He then returned two more counter loops between wrists and ankles finishing off by tying off the rope above Scott’s wrists and out of range of his supple fingers.

This pulled his subject into a very tight hog-tie. Scott was left rocking on the floor, his belly stretched tight and his back arched. Action Man asked Alex for a demonstration of his “rocking horse” before the clock was started.

Alex put his foot between Scott’s shoulders and forced him to rock forwards, then released him, then repeated the procedure a few times for Sam to video.

The “rocking horse” was greeted with considerable acclaim by the audience and the clock was started.

It now became important to Scott to escape as soon as possible.

He presented a somewhat bizarre sight, not because he was nearly naked and so tightly bound that he could do little more than rock backwards and forwards and from side to side but because, having spent most of the late afternoons of the previous two weeks on the beach, he had an early season suntan. His favourite green board shorts had ensured that the current rocking horse was well tanned all over except for the ghostly pallor of his thighs.

The clock was running and none of the boys had ever seen Scott, a frequent captive, struggle so hard to relieve himself of his captivity. Considering his lack of scope for movement, his wriggling and rocking were spectacular. So were the indecipherable obscenities that failed to penetrate his gag.

Writhing around in front of an open fire could have been dangerous so, every so often, when he had approached too close, one of the Sea Scouts would drag him to safety.

After half an hour, Scott was exhausted and just came to a full stop. Alex asked him if he wanted to submit. It was very tempting. But there would be consequences. After a short rest, the strivings continued.

It was now gone midnight and the Sea Scouts started to drift off to bed. The boys preferred not to sleep in the cottage so two Icelandics were pitched behind the Log Cabin. The Sea Scouts preferred the old fashioned green patrol tents to more modern designs as they had found that they made the frequent tying up of fellow scouts easier (Explanations available later, perhaps). Alex and Action Man stayed to witness the outcome of their bet and T-Boy agreed to stay as referee and to look after his slave. For reasons that will become clear later, all the retirees headed for one of the tents leaving the other one free.

During the brief hiatus Scott had failed to find any looseness in his ropes. He was getting desperate, believing that he had already been restrained for at least an hour.

To cut a long story short, at the end of two hours, Scott was almost as tightly restricted as he was when Alex started the clock. He was hot, sweaty, desperate and exhausted.

The kitchen timer started pinging. “Yes!” – Alex leapt in triumph.

T-Boy smirked. It was about time Action Man had his come-uppance.

Action Man accepted the result and stripped down to his blue and white striped boxer shorts. He knew what was expected.

===========================================================================================================================


That's the latest. More to come if it's wanted.
xtc
Last edited by xtc on Wed Feb 19, 2014 7:07 am, edited 1 time in total.
Boxer shorts are cool,
but little speedos rule!

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

Re: THE SAILOR BOYS AND THE LAND FARMERS

Postby Jason Toddman » Tue Jun 15, 2010 2:19 pm

I'm a little vague as to what happened concerning why Scott was suddenly so anxious to free himself, or was this SUPPOSED to be a mystery?
Otherwise, still a pretty good story. Not sure how you'll top all this when the 'real' revenge starts but we'll see. :twisted:
Dare to be different... and make a difference.
To boldly go where no one in their right mind has gone before...

Re: THE SAILOR BOYS AND THE LAND FARMERS

Postby xtc » Thu Jun 17, 2010 8:24 am

THE LAND FARMERS AND THE SAILOR BOYS


The Guest Bedroom


“OK, you two, before you go off to play, just give us a hand putting these two to bed.” T-Boy was talking to Alex and Action Man.

“You can do that.” said the winner of the bet to his newly acquired slave. One of the usual consequences of losing a bet was that the winner got to own the loser as a slave for up to 12 hours. Alex was determined to enjoy this.

The little swimmer was by now not enjoying the way the bags over his head interfered with his breathing, but not enough to be dangerous, merely annoying. Every time he breathed in the inner bag adhered to his face and puffed out again as he exhaled. The overall visual effect as the outer bag echoed its partner was quite comical.

Action Man took Steve’s arm and raised him to his feet. He took him to the base of the library ladder that led up to the sleeping loft still dragging a length of chain behind him. It was decision time: should he make the unfortunate kid climb the ladder by himself or should he carry him? No contest: the hostage could do it for himself.

Little Steve felt his wrists separate as Action Man removed the padlock that had fastened them so closely together. The hostage was then instructed to pass the chain under his backside to bring it round in front of him. This would be useful both in enabling the hostage to climb the ladder and in securing both hostages together later. As his arms came forward, Steve had quite a problem, being blindfolded, in getting all the trailing end of his hobble chain over his shackles. With a certain amount of impatient assistance from Alex’s slave, the feat was soon accomplished.

This left Steve standing at the bottom of a ladder wearing only his swimming shorts, covered in food remains, unable to see and not daring to speak, a 60 cm shackle between his wrists, 30 cms of heavier chain between his ankles with about 4 metres of it trailing on the floor. It was decided that it would be safer if the trailing chain, which was fastened to his right ankle was looped up over Steve’s left shoulder, allowed to dangle in front of him before being passed over his right shoulder, behind his neck, over his left shoulder again and so on until he was wearing a necklace of chain with several strands.

The hostage was told that he was about to climb a ladder. He had noticed the ladder when he was a galley slave and knew what to expect. He was helped to place his hands on the sides of the ladder and was told to feel around for the first step. He was then told, “Climb”. He did so very hesitantly. Action Man wasn’t really that cruel, he followed the prisoner very closely putting his arms around him for support. The top of the ladder reached above the level of the sleeping loft making it easier to dismount.

By now Little Steve was very nervous to say the least. He could feel the top of the ladder under his hands. Action Man reassured him that he was safe and lifted his feet onto the floor of the loft. Steve’s left hand was moved across to join his right hand leaving him standing sideways on the edge of the loft. Action man stepped onto the loft and gathered the now quaking boy and moved him to the centre of the loft and onto his knees.

Steve’s “word of honour” was ignored when his muffled voice was heard saying, “Thank you, thank you.” while the bags on his head billowed out and in.

Acton Man left Steve recovering, he knew better than to try for freedom now. A chained boy could not remove his blindfold and climb down a library ladder before Alex or one of the others could get to him.

It was Scott’s turn. He knew he was safe from Action Man’s threat because Action Man would be Alex’s slave for the next 12 hours.

Action Man decided what he ought to do.

Scott was sweaty and exhausted from his struggles and was still tightly hog-tied, gagged, blindfolded and lying on his side by the fire. His blindfold needed checking because damp gaffer tape has the unfortunate property of coming off a perspiring victim. Action Man picked up the t-shirt which he had just discarded and mopped down Scott’s head, arms, torso and back.

Scott’s reaction when he caught Action Man’s smell, as the t-shirt passed his nose, was interesting. Things were looking up! Even though the black tape was not as secure as it had been, it was obviously fit to stay in place until morning.

Action Man got another chain of the type that shackled Steve’s wrists and threw it up to the loft floor. It landed on Steve who nearly forgot his word of honour again. He then chucked a short rope up flowed by two small padlocks and another short length of rope. Steve started to think he was being used for target practice.

Obviously Scott could not be transferred to the loft in his current state. Action man released his hog-tie and inspected his “client” who, although revelling in being able to stretch out once more, was still bound hand, knee and foot. Even Scott had to be grateful for his release from the hog-tie. Action Man thought Scott would be easier to handle if his legs were less restricted so he undid both sets of ropes around his knees, leaving his ankles fastened firmly together.

Alex’s newly acquired slave then raised Scott to his feet, where he tottered unsteadily, supported by the short, muscular slave. When Scott had steadied a bit on his feet, Action Man released him, quickly ducked and pushed his right shoulder into Scott’s midriff forcing Scott to collapse over his shoulder. What a blast! The nearly naked Scott found himself being carried by, as far as he could tell through the body contact the two boys now had, a possibly naked slave. As his face flopped down towards his porter’s back and a strong right arm enwrapped his legs, Scott inhaled. This confirmed it. Another rush! He was being given a fireman’s lift by the Sea Scout whose prisoner he really wanted to be.

There was much smothered grunting as Action Man took his bundle quickly over to the library steps and started climbing leaving Scott simply balanced over his broad right shoulder. “Not a good time to wriggle, really.” thought the contented prisoner.

“Later”, whispered the slave into his right ear, as Scott was lowered to the floor of the loft, just to remind Scott of what he had said to him earlier. It was difficult to tell whether the resultant whimper was one of pleasure or dread!

Scott was laid on his belly next to Little Steve and Action Man then removed the rope from his ankles and threw it over the edge of the loft. Scott was then hobbled using the shorter and rather harder rope that had previously been thrown up into the loft. Scott’s hands were untied and he was made to sit back to back with Little Steve. His hands were forced between Steve’s arms and his body and his arms bent forwards so that both boys were linked at the elbows. Action Man fastened one end of the small-linked chain, none too tightly round Scott’s right wrist, passed it across to his left wrist, having drawn his hands closer together in front of him and completed the shackle.

Little Steve was still kneeling, his legs still chained and still wearing his heavy chain “necklace”. The slave lifted off the coils from around his neck and undid the padlocks hobbling his ankles. Much relieved, Steve was then told to move his legs from under him and to sit down. There was then quite a lot of mutual wriggling as the hostages adjusted their relative positions. Steve was then hobbled with the other short piece of hard rope.

Neither boys’ chains were tightly fastened but they were tight enough to be inescapable. There was a little scope for movement and there should have been no real pain unless the hostages insisted upon struggling.

This was not a comfortable pose to sleep in!

T-Boy joined the other three boys on the loft and thought he ought to explain the situation. They were over two metres above the flag-stoned section of the floor. There was no rail round the edge of the loft and the ladder would be removed. They should be warm enough due to the heat from the log fire feeding through the open front of the loft. He suddenly ripped Scott’s tape gag from his mouth, which caused quite a harrowing squeal even though the rubber ball was still in place, and then helped him expel the ball. Scott was left with the typical raw, red mark round his mouth. No water was offered.

The tall Sea Scout explained that he was going to sleep downstairs for various reasons and that, if he was kept awake by hearing either of them speaking or rattling their chains, they would both find themselves in a hanging spread-eagle gagged with tennis balls and the clothing they were wearing.

“Or should we do that now?” Both boys shook their heads.

T-Boy and Action Man climbed down the ladder and the slave removed the ladder and rested it against a wall well away from the loft. Alex, who had been relaxing with some hot chocolate, snapped his fingers and signalled his slave to approach.

The hostages decided to move as little as possible.

Once Alex and his slave had left and he could hear soft snoring from T-Boy, Scott took the chance, “You OK?” he whispered.

“I’ll live. ‘Night”

“’Night.”


Alex and his Slave


Action Man was always in demand as the best tier-up in the Troop, but he didn’t think he always got his fair share of being tied up. He was only168 cm tall but had muscles that made him look like the Action Man doll. He was proud of his BMI which indicated that he carried less than 10% body fat. His upper arms were slightly shorter than normal, accentuating his biceps; and his hair colour was a sort of brown that took red tinges in certain lights. In spite of always seeming to be bare-chested when hiking or camping, he was, in his own London accent, “pey-aw”. In spite of the tough-guy image he projected, Tony (If his dad ever called him Anthony, he knew he was in big trouble!) was basically a shy boy with impeccable manners in company. He was also worryingly fond of pain!

T-Boy started laying out his lightweight sleeping bag in front of the fire, which he built up a bit before retiring, and tried to ignore Alex, who was preparing his slave for his forthcoming imprisonment. T-Boy stripped down to his blue mini-briefs (to which Sam always referred as his “speedo pants”) and climbed into his sleeping bag.

Alex was relaxing upon a sofa and ordered his slave to collect his own sleeping bag, a long length of the kind of chain that had been used on the hostages’ hands, several rolls of gaffer tape, five small padlocks and any leather belts that he could find in the “toy box”. He had obviously been planning! The slave took a precautionary piss against a tree when he went out to the stores and then brought back the items requested by his master. As so often happened, Action Man had forgotten his own sleeping bag so he had to borrow one of the Troop’s four-season bags. Not a good idea!

Alex gave the order that Action Man was to face him, sit on the floor and use two of the padlocks to fasten his own ankles as closely together as possible and then to turn his back and kneel down because he couldn’t be bothered to stand up to chain his wrists. Action Man probably chained himself much more tightly than he would have fastened anyone else. Dutifully getting to his knees and turning his back, the slave offered his hands behind him for treatment. Alex carefully adjusted the length of the chain between his slave’s ankles and his left wrist. He passed a padlock twice through the chain, holding the wrist securely but not over-tightly. “Bugger”, thought Action Man, he was hoping for the cuff to be much tighter. Just to show off, Alex then passed the same padlock twice more through the chain fastening Action Man’s wrists closely together.

It seemed to Action Man that he had been allowed a lot of slack between his wrists and his ankles and he was wondering why his protégée should have allowed this. Alex continued his work, whistling tunelessly to himself all the time. He brought the chain up and round his captive’s neck and round once more. He then passed the padlock through the chain leading up the victim’s back, loosened the loop round his neck and passed the padlock through that and once more through the chain as it was brought down. This left Action Man with his arms fairly straight and a non-slip, but inescapable, loop round his neck. Alex finished off by padlocking the chain to the loop round Action Man’s wrists.

“Right, let’s try it out.” said Alex as he took hold of the chain in front of his slave’s neck. He lifted his slave to his feet. That’s when Tony understood. He couldn’t quite straighten his legs!

The increasingly immobilised boy was allowed to kneel again.

He was then made to lie on his back while his master used many rounds of gaffer tape both above and below his knees, drawing them very tightly together.

“O Kaaaay, it’s maggot tiiiime!” Alex stretched Action Man’s borrowed sleeping bag out on the floor and unzipped it. He ordered his captive to get onto it. This he did with some difficulty, the sleeping bag was zipped up and the mummy hood fastened leaving just the occupant’s face showing.

Alex got the black gaffer tape and wrapped it tightly several times round the light blue sleeping bag, trapping Action Man’s ankles. He repeated the procedure around where he adjudged his maggot’s waist to be. That trapped his wrists against his body, the chain not allowing much avoidance. One more repeat at elbow level and another between elbows and shoulder completed the transformation from man into maggot.

The mummified boy was hauled to his feet but, of course, he couldn’t stand straight and had to crouch in a very uncomfortable posture. Alex fastened a leather belt round the maggot’s neck and another, quite tightly, round his waist

“Torture time!” announced Alex triumphantly, “- But not yet!”

Action Man thought admiringly that the delayed, “Not yet!” was a piece of evil worthy of GP, especially as Alex was not renowned as an early riser. Action Man was determined to enjoy this!

Alex made his maggot hold a torch in his mouth to light their way to the unoccupied Icelandic. He then hooked his hand into the already tight belt round his slave’s waist and led him out to the tent. This was really difficult for the maggot, who could not really stand properly and who had to jump all the way out of the door and round to the back of the building. It seemed to take forever.

Alex then gave his prisoner permission to spit out the torch and made him lie down. More of a crash than a controlled dive ensued. “On your back.” Action Man did so, his knees slightly in the air. “Lights out!” Now all that could be seen of the prisoner was his face with a layer of surgical tape pressed closely into his eye sockets. Action Man would really have liked to have been gagged overnight but he couldn’t bring himself to ask and, anyway, it was against the rules.

Alex then stripped down to his tight, red “Urbanspirit” boxer briefs and climbed into his sleeping bag which, unlike Action Man’s, was unzipped and comfortably positioned on two therma-rests. “Thanks for the extra mattress, Maggot. Sleep tight. See you in the morning.”
Last edited by xtc on Wed Feb 19, 2014 11:57 am, edited 3 times in total.
Boxer shorts are cool,
but little speedos rule!

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

Re: THE SAILOR BOYS AND THE LAND FARMERS

Postby Jason Toddman » Thu Jun 17, 2010 9:06 am

Still excellent story. Apparently it's still just getting started too. Love the imaginative tie up scenarios. :big: I imagine that is a big reason why Cinche wants to illustrate it on Tugstories.
One request - sorry if it sounds like a criticism: but with all the names and nicknames and somewhat inconsistent usage of each, I am losing track of who the hell is who!
Could you include a list of characters, including real names, nicknames, and affiliation? Either that or just refer to each character by a single consistent name? I can't tell who is doing what to who anymore unless I start from the beginning first each time I read a new entry. I'm not even sure how many characters there are anymore. For example, I keep losing track of who Action Man and T-Boy are although I have just realized the first letter of each nickname is the same as the real one. But it is still a tad confusing to me - especially with a story as long as this one is going to be.
And I'd still like to know if we're supposed to know what the 'threat' made to Scott was. Is the mystery of it important to the plot or too explicit to ever be revealed?
Dare to be different... and make a difference.
To boldly go where no one in their right mind has gone before...

Re: THE SAILOR BOYS AND THE LAND FARMERS

Postby xtc » Thu Jun 17, 2010 12:21 pm

Thanks Jason,

No it's not explicit but might be a bit "tactical". It was a deliberate plot device. All in due course. However, I've brought the explanation forward a bit as it seems to annoy you. You do have the information already to make a guess.

Yes, I'm sorry about the multiple character names but it's a natural way of dealing with people in different contexts and as appropriate at different times. It is also a way of avoiding frequent repetiton in the same paragraph. I'll sit and make an extract of the characters but not any that have yet to appear.

I'll pm it to you.

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

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

Re: THE SAILOR BOYS AND THE LAND FARMERS

Postby Jason Toddman » Thu Jun 17, 2010 12:29 pm

xtc wrote:Thanks Jason,

No it's not explicit but might be a bit "tactical". It was a deliberate plot device. All in due course. However, I've brought the explanation forward a bit as it seems to annoy you. You do have the information already to make a guess.

Yes, I'm sorry about the multiple character names but it's a natural way of dealing with people in different contexts and as appropriate at different times. It is also a way of avoiding frequent repetiton in the same paragraph. I'll sit and make an extract of the characters but not any that have yet to appear.

I'll pm it to you.

Wassail,
xtc

Okay; about the threat I thought I simply missed something I couldn't find; if it's deliberately vague but revealed eventually this is fine by me.
And yes I understand about not wanting to do repetition but I think pronouns are often adequate for this. I think you really should stick to one name per character though; adding nicknames and using them interchangeably is rather distracting at best - at least, it is to ME! IMO Sticking to a character's nickname is perfectly fine after mentioning his real name just once or twice at the beginning. Action Man instead of Alex is fine, but back and forth> - Aiyeeeeee... it's confusing, at least the first few times I read this.
That's my only real complaint though. I am loving this story otherwise - which is why I care about keeping track of the characters in the first place! :big:
Dare to be different... and make a difference.
To boldly go where no one in their right mind has gone before...

Re: THE SAILOR BOYS AND THE LAND FARMERS

Postby xtc » Sat Jun 26, 2010 4:07 pm

I’m sorry, I’ve taken this section down.
I’d be grateful to anyone who has downloaded it if they would delete it.
I shall work on it and, if there is any interest, when it is properly ready, I shall re-post. If, however, there is no interest, I shall not re-post the corrected version here.

In that case, I’d happily pm the corrected version to anyone who wants it.

Feeble excuses to follow.
xtc
Boxer shorts are cool,
but little speedos rule!

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

Re: THE SAILOR BOYS AND THE LAND FARMERS

Postby xtc » Sun Jun 27, 2010 6:05 am

My apologies to anyone who read the previous post, which I hope I have successfully deleted.

I always like to draught, re-read and redraught several time before posting and this time I went against type and posted much too soon. The episodes were not ready.

Inadequate proof reading allowed too many contradictory/confusing things to get through.

Here are the pathetic excuses for my abject failure:
• Trying to write, proof read & post too often after midnight local time
• Too much wine whist trying to write, etc.
• Trying to listen to the music of Gorrillaz and the Pet Shop Boys at Glastonbury festival whilst drinking, trying to . . . . etc.

I’m sorry for wasting readers’ time and, if there is any call for it, I’ll try to d better in future.

xtc
Boxer shorts are cool,
but little speedos rule!

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

Re: THE SAILOR BOYS AND THE LAND FARMERS

Postby MustBeDreaming » Tue Jun 29, 2010 10:38 pm

DEFINITELY continue. I read the deleted post and it really wasn't that bad!
A bit of a lull, sure, but every story has it's lulls.
I'm just waiting for the Land Farmers' revenge :twisted:

But nonetheless, very good! You HAVE to keep going.

Re: THE SAILOR BOYS AND THE LAND FARMERS

Postby Jason Toddman » Tue Jun 29, 2010 11:20 pm

Yes, please do not let yourself be discouraged. Self doubt happens to EVERY good writer; and usually the better the writer the worse that self doubt becomes.
This is developing into what could be an epic story. Please keep working on it and post it when you can!
The Sailor Boys and Land Farmers among us are counting on you! :wink:
Dare to be different... and make a difference.
To boldly go where no one in their right mind has gone before...

Re: THE SAILOR BOYS AND THE LAND FARMERS

Postby xtc » Tue Jul 06, 2010 3:23 pm

I'll try posting the revised version before the surgeons turn me into the Bionic Man (or Metal Mickey accordig to my alleged friends).
Perhaps sitting on my arse for three months will result in some finished stories. Or else it might just boost sales among the local wine-selling fraternity. You never know.


THE LAND FARMERS AND THE SAILOR BOYS


Bright and Early


T-Boy got his name by always being the first up and brewing up as soon as he could. He was a disgrace to teenage-kind and liked to rise by five-thirty but he thought that, as it was already well into the small hours, he might take a lie in tomorrow.

He set his phone for six-thirty and quickly drifted off in spite of the treatment that Alex was dishing out to Action Man.

It had been a bit of a trying night for the two hostages. They had got no sleep and, being blindfolded, had no idea of the passage of time. It had been impossible to relax because, every time one boy sagged forwards, the other one was pulled backwards pulling the former up short and denying either boy the opportunity to drop off.

At the horribly early hour of six-thirty, sounds could be heard as T-Boy hooked the library ladder to the track along the edge of the loft. He thought he didn’t have much time to spare so he was in a hurry to move the hostages downstairs before starting to prepare breakfast. He enjoyed being the cook and it meant that he was expected to perform no other duties whatsoever.

The Sea Scouts didn’t usually apply cable ties directly to their prisoners’ flesh because, even if they weren’t tied too tightly, (an easy thing to do accidentally) they tended to cut into the victims unnecessarily. They had also seen how easily Action Man, Alex and T-Boy could simply break ties that had been applied to their wrists, whether fastened in front or behind. They did, however, keep a variety of heavy duty ones which were supposed to be used for securing tent poles but which were more commonly used for tightening the ropes that already bound their prisoners.

Being in a hurry T-Boy grabbed a roll of gaffer tape and a handful of assorted cable ties and climbed up to the loft. He told the hostages that he was going to get them ready for breakfast while he had time.

Scott felt two cable ties being fastened round each wrist and the chain round his left arm being released. He was then “unlaced” from Little Steve who slumped forward with a relieved “OOHH!” T-Boy finished removing Scott’s chain and, forcing him to bend forwards, slipped a further cable tie through the ones already in place drawing Scott’s wrists fairly close together behind him. This tie was reinforced with yet another one; T-Boy knew that he himself could break single ties and he was taking no chances. Little Steve was unchained and cable tied in the same fashion.

Both boys, now separate once more, enjoyed a brief lie down and a wriggle to get their aching bodies loosened up.

T-Boy lifted Scott to a seated position once more and then started loosening the end of the gaffer tape (the traditional silver stuff this time) from the roll. He applied about half a dozen rounds to Scott’s lower face, muzzling him. Scott lay down again.

Steve heard movement towards him. He was forced into a seated position and heard more tape being unravelled. He felt tape being wrapped tightly round the bags that covered his head at eye level. He heard and felt the original tape fastening the outer bag round his neck being stripped off. The outer bag was then lifted to allow T-Boy to undo the draw-string holding the inner bag in place. Both bags were then furled up leaving Steve’s mouth and nose free at last with the recently added tape keeping him blindfolded. Steve enjoyed his first few easy breaths for hours.

On hearing more tape being pulled from the roll, he panicked. He had this dread of having tape gags stripped from his face.

“Permission to speak, My Master”, Steve made his most humble and desperate plea; which was granted. “I know you’re going to gag me but, please not with gaffer tape. Couldn’t you use the gag I wore when I was delivered?” T-Boy thought for a few seconds and then returned to the floor of the Log Cabin, collected a neckerchief and picked up the padded stick from the mantle-piece where it had been left. Returning to the loft he ordered Steve to open his mouth and pushed the stick well back, holding it into place.

“Spit this out and it’s back to tape.” growled the gaoler. Steve made no attempt to expel the gag when the restraining hand was removed. T-Boy took the neckerchief and wrapped it round the back of Steve’s neck draping it over the ends of the stick. The two hanging ends were then brought round under the stick and returned to the back of Little Steve’s neck. T-Boy then knotted the ends of the neckerchief as tightly as he could. The gag was drawn tightly enough into the wearer’s mouth as witnessed by the resultant, “Nnnng!”, but it was not as painful as when Zac had originally tied it into place using a thin chord.

As you know, there were many recycled things in the Log Cabin. One of the more eccentric items was an old fashioned fire escape of the type that used to be found in student hostels in the 1960’s. It consisted of a circular drum about one metre across which was fastened securely to the wall. Wrapped round the drum was a pair of slings, each large enough to hold a person, connected together by a stout rope. If a person climbed into one of the slings and stepped off the loft, heavy counter-weights extended as they spun within the drum slowing the passenger’s descent. The other sling was, simultaneously raised to loft level.

Having previously been “guests” of the Sea Scouts both of the Land Farmer Hostages were aware of the device. Otherwise what T-Boy did to them could have been really terrifying. Imagine being launched off the loft platform whist being restrained without knowing that you would be delivered safely to the ground!

Steve was taken over to the fire escape and the sling was passed downwards between his arms. He was forced to step backwards into the sling which fitted so that it went up in front of his chest, passing under his armpits with the joined bit that attaches to the rope more or less behind his skull. T-Boy warned Steve to force his arms downwards and grip with his biceps if he wanted to be comfortable. He then launched the smaller of his hostages into the air and watched him float gently to the ground. That could have been fun if Steve hadn’t been cable tied, hooded and gagged.

Having climbed down to release Little Steve from the sling, T-Boy returned for Scott and subjected him to the same treatment. Scott enjoyed it.

There were two very substantial wooden bar-chairs, more re-cycled items, which had long ago been bolted firmly together back to back for restraint purposes, on which T-Boy intended to seat his prisoners. They were useful because two prisoners could be tied up at once and, being taller and thus less laterally stable than ordinary chairs, too much struggling easily resulted in their tipping over leaving the occupants in a very painful situation. They were also too tall for the restrained victims’ feet to reach the floor.

Scott was lifted onto one of the chairs and T-Boy quickly drew his, already hobbled, ankles sideways towards the front legs with cable ties. The cable ties were fastened above a spar connecting the front legs to the back. Sliding off the seat would leave the prisoner helpless on his chest with his feet in the air. That would be good enough to hold Scott while he collected Steve and seated him on the other chair and drew his ankles towards the chair legs. It was now that Steve wished he had made a different plea before he was gagged. He was desperate for a pee.

T-Boy then cut the cable ties joining the hostages’ wrists together leaving their arms hanging by their sides. He took two more cable ties and looped one of them through the ties round Scott’s right wrist and those round Steve’s left wrist. A quick pull drew the two boys’ wrists very closely towards one another. The same was done at the other side of the chair before an extra tie was added to each side as reinforcements. Two further ties were added forcing each boy’s right elbow up against his friend’s left one. Just one more item to add: T-Boy fastened a long, thick leather strap tightly round both boys’ waists, passing it between the vertical spars of the chair-backs. This brought them close to one another and prevented their slipping forwards. It also made Steve wonder how much longer he could hold it.

He started trying to shout through his gag nodding frantically towards his crutch whilst T-Boy was considering adding a belt joining their necks. He decided to do so.

T-Boy checked on Steve’s distress. Did he want to beg to be released? He shook his head; the shame and consequences were unthinkable. Was he tied up too tightly? Much more head shaking. Did he need a piss? He nodded enthusiastically or at least as enthusiastically as he could with the strap connecting his neck to Scott’s.

“Sorry, Farmer Boy, I’d have to release both of you and I’m not going to do that until there’s somebody else around.”

Steve’s heart sank, he tried to keep very still and he hoped Scott would too! Every time Scott moved Steve whimpered as he thought he would wet himself.


Some Time Later


At only about half past seven there was an unprecedented occurrence. Alex appeared at the door. He brought his maggot with him.

It was, as you know, a late May day. The days were very warm and sunny but the nights were still sometimes chilly but not chilly enough to warrant a four-season sleeping bag.

Alex made his maggot jump all the way from their overnight tent to the front door (let’s face it: the only door) of the Log Cabin. Having been denied water on the previous night because Alex didn’t particularly want his captive to wet himself, Action Man was now desperate. He didn’t need to micturate but, because he had sweated so much, he was dehydrated and didn’t need a piss in any case.

The maggot had to jump across the threshold and into the building. He then had the mouth-piece of a camel-pack placed in his mouth. The tube was attacked with determination by the parched, mummified boy. He still managed to observe the rules about not speaking.

-----00000-----


OK, I suppose an explanation is in order. Both Troops enjoyed tying up games both inter-troop and within their own Troops. Several rules were inviolate.
• Word of Honour (Scout’s Honour) was to be honoured and respected.
• Anyone who gave the accepted emergency signal (even possible if the subject was gagged) was to be un-gagged immediately. The signal was a rhythmic noise which could be made vocally, by finger flicking or by tapping on anything available. /Xxx, X--/Xxx, X--/Xxx, X --/. (For the musicians, the rhythm is six-eight. For the rest of us, it’s like when the Master was becoming – even more – unhinged in Dr. Who, just before “Here Come the Drums”)
• Anyone whom the captors suspected to be in need of relief could be asked, “Tell me your name.” A prisoner who didn’t need releasing should remain silent and shake his head. Any other response would indicate the need for release.
• No one was to be gagged overnight unless someone agreed to stay awake to guard them. Word of Honour not to cry out comes in here. Mind you, once gags were in place, anything went.
As I have written in the past, most of the boys were the best of friends but they enjoyed their games. So anyone who violated the rules would be totally ostracised because, without them, the games could not safely proceed.

-----00000-----


T-Boy pointed out that Steve was in distress and asked Alex to help out as he was preparing breakfast for everyone. Alex ordered his maggot onto his belly in front of the fire. Whether that was deliberate cruelty or whether he thought that the mat was the most comfortable surface is debatable. Action Man felt the heat of the fire on his face (his only exposed surface) and started trying to roll away. Every so often during his next task, Alex dragged him back.

Little Steve was now dreading any movement. Alex cut the cable ties joining the two hostages’ wrists and arms. He then used two more cable ties to fasten their wrists in front of them. Steve was quivering, trying not to let go. The strap between their necks was removed but, even worse for Little Steve, so was the belt joining the captives together at the waist. He nearly disgraced himself.

Alex removed the cable ties drawing Steve’s ankles towards the legs of his chair but still leaving him hobbled. Steve sighed meaningfully as he brought his legs together. He thought that he just might get away with it.

It might seem that Scott was free to escape but the consequences of slipping off the chair have already been explained. But just to make sure, Alex padlocked Scott’s wrists to a deliberately placed eye that had been screwed into the front of the substantial seat. This caused Scott to crouch, shoulders hunched, in a somewhat uncomfortable pose but at least his arms would stop him slipping off the chair.

“Hang on a minute, Kid”, said Alex as he left the hostages and dragged his slowly escaping maggot across the floor and back to his appointed place in front of the fire.

He went to Little Steve, eased him down from the chair and guided him, hooded cuffed and hobbled as he was to the door. Steve felt that each step was draining him drop by drop. “OK, let go”, said Alex as soon as he had got Steve clear of the path. Steve frantically undid the waist tie of his swimming shorts and desperately tried to lower them. Too Late! Just as he released himself the explosion was uncontrolled!

Alex couldn’t figure out whether the sigh that escaped his gag was one of relief or one of shame.

Steve had managed to wet the inside of his shorts, his legs, random bits of vegetation and the outside of his shorts quite comprehensively.

Little Steve was devastated. It would have been easy to submit and beg for release.

“Don’t worry, it’s happened to all of us – and there’s no photos”, reassured Alex. “Come on, pull ‘em up. Let’s go back.

Steve hung his head and allowed himself to be led, shuffling, back into the Cabin.

Alex told Steve that he would arrange for his swimming shorts to be laundered. He untied Steve’s hobble but, being hooded with the tent bags, Steve was, to say the least, unsure of what was about to happen to him.

Alex found two sleeping bag liners from stores. He was sure that Scott would be in need as well.

Alex wrestled Little Steve to the floor. He lifted the hostage’s feet and started pulling the cotton liner up round his legs, forcing it under his bum, forcing his bound arms inside it and raised it to shoulder level.

“OK, you’re decent. Get ‘em off”

This would have made one of Sam’s best ever videos. What a pity he was still throwing up the zeds.

Steve struggled to remove his shorts; a very entertaining sight - unless you were the subject. The victim’s head was enclosed by two tent bags and his body was enclosed by another linen bag. There was little evidence that the protagonist was human. After about five minutes Steve managed to produce his shorts over the top of the sleeping bag liner.

Steve’s bound wrists and his arms were now free from the linen liner which had fallen to his waist still protecting his modesty. Alex lifted Steve back onto his chair, wrapped four turns of rope tightly round his ankles and tied off the rope. Steve’s ankles were then attached firmly to the cross bar of the chair. The strap that originally pulled the two hostages closer to one another was fastened round Little Steve’s arms just below his elbows and pulled very tight. Steve was thus unable to reach his gag.

By now Scott had worn the same underpants (and usually only underpants) for more than 24 hours and was getting a bit ripe so Alex & T-Boy decided that his “costume” should also be washed.

Scott was unusual in that, when other lads wore shorts in the shower, he would always be proudly naked claiming the he had “nothing to be ashamed of.” Alex removed his hobble and unlocked his wrists from the front of the chair. T-Boy explained what was about to happen and Scott started trying to remove his briefs without waiting to be put into the liner. Eventually Scott was left sitting on the floor minus his garish garment. Alex helped him into the second sleeping bag liner, lifted him onto his chair and tied his ankles to the cross bar.

The strap round Little Steve’s body was unbuckled and replaced round both the hostages’ waists and between the spars of the chair backs, drawing the two boys close together once more. A smaller, wide strap was fitted round the hostages’ necks pulling their heads together and making it very difficult to look down. Alex was now ready to start on their arms.

He didn’t want to keep the cable ties in place because of the way they dig in to the victim’s wrists so he cut them off and got two lengths of soft rope.

“Excuse me, Lads. Back in a sec.” Alex once more went across the room and dragged the reluctant Action Man back to his proper place.

“I’m back.” Alex started practicing his knots again. A clove hitch fastened Scott’s right wrist to Steve’s left one, two more coils were added and tightly knotted. Alex judged that, with what he was about to do, that would be sufficient. Steve’s right wrist was fastened to Scott’s left in a similar fashion. Another clove hitch held Scott’s right elbow to Steve’s left and two more rounds added and pulled tight by passing a turn of rope between the two elbows. This was Alex’s favourite way to start. He wasn’t content to leave their elbows like that because he could see that, with sufficient wriggling, the hostages could probably loosen the ropes so he added a couple more turns round the individual elbows, knotting them off individually before tying the ends of the rope together.


Breakfast Time


Now Alex could pay his maggot the attention he deserved. Action man had spent the night chained and blindfolded in a very warm sleeping bag. He had then been wrapped around with gaffer tape and leather straps. He was sweating like a pig and being positioned in front of the fire made him feel psychosomatically even worse. He could feel the lining of his sleeping bag clinging to his body even at the points where Alex had not taped him tightly.

Alex decided that his prisoner should be gagged, just to be unpleasant, but he wanted his squeals of pain when he was tortured later to be audible. He noticed a wide leather belt that Action Man had previously brought in from the “toy box”. It was a very substantial belt about 3 cm wide. Alex had an idea. He made his maggot kneel facing him.

Alex undid the drawstring of the sleeping bag exposing Action Man’s grade 4 haircut plastered against his skull with sweat except for a silly standing-up bit where the hood had dragged against his hair. Alex took the belt and passed it over his victim’s head, crossed it in front, leaving two layers in Action Man’s mouth. Being blindfolded, Action Man didn’t know what was coming and put up no resistance, not that he probably would have done in any case. He uttered a few, “Aa uun” noises more out of courtesy than anything else! Alex fastened the belt off round the back of the victim’s neck. He then replaced the hood of the sleeping bag and fastened it again.

Action man was pushed onto his belly once more but his imprecations were totally indecipherable.

T-Boy announced that it was time for the hostages’ breakfast. The Sea Scouts would awake to a fry-up later but that wasn’t for hostages. T-Boy had made porridge but he did put a welcome amount of brown sugar on it and had added some sultanas.

“OK, you get the mucky job.” said T-boy indicating to Alex that he was to feed Little Steve while he fed Scott. Alex removed Steve’s gag and a relieved small boy exercised his aching jaw. Alex had to keep the bags hooding his “guest” out of the way during the feeding process. Steve was fed spoonfuls of the oats some of which went where it was supposed to go but a generous amount went down his chest, across his face and on the sleeping bag liner which constituted his only clothing.

After a pained intake of breath following the sudden removal of his muzzle, Scott ate far more efficiently. Maybe that was because he was more used to being imprisoned. Both boys were given water from the camel-pack before their gags were replaced.

Alex offered the padded wooden gag to Steve’s face so that he could feel it. “Do you want this again or do you want the ball and tape this time?” Steve opened his mouth. Alex secured the gag with the neckerchief but he didn’t really tie it as tight as he could have done. It was, however tight enough to prevent Steve expelling it with his tongue.

Scott got the usual treatment. Rubber ball in. Three layers of tape round his head. Playful slap on the cheek.

By now the rest of the boys were starting to drift in. Sam realised that no-one had been jumped in the night and thought, “Things are slipping, just because we had a really late night. We must be getting old.”

The smell of bacon and sausages wafted from the galley as they settled to their coco-pops and milk. “How do you want your eggs, Boys?” There was a consensus for scrambled, T-Boy did them very well! A few fried mushrooms and tomatoes (not for Den, too much like health food!) completed the feast. All washed down with gourmet Coke; that would set them up for the day. Evan decided that to waste the extra sausages and rashers of bacon would be sinful so Den and he took all steps to avoid sin.

Action Man couldn’t help noting that he wasn’t offered any breakfast.



----------0000000000----------


The next episode will be brought to you courtesy of the manufacturers of airport alarm systems!
Last edited by xtc on Thu Feb 27, 2014 6:53 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: THE SAILOR BOYS AND THE LAND FARMERS

Postby Jason Toddman » Wed Jul 07, 2010 12:35 pm

The story flows more smoothly now; thank you for the effort you've clearly been putting in to this story.
I hope you can keep writing while you are recuperating. That's what I did when I was recovering from Cancer surgery last year. I was in the hospital nearly a month and spent much of creating about 75 pages of my 300+ page Jonny Quest web-comic novel. When I had the strength to do it anyway, it was a hell of a lot more pleasant spending time doing this on my laptop than it was laying there watching the mindless drivel that passes for entertainment on cable TV! Without a pleasant project like that to occupy my mind, recovery would have been a harder experience for me. My laptop with WIFI helped save my sanity (such as it is) in the hospital!
Good Luck with everything and hope we'll keep hearing from you.
Dare to be different... and make a difference.
To boldly go where no one in their right mind has gone before...

Re: THE SAILOR BOYS AND THE LAND FARMERS

Postby xtc » Tue Jul 20, 2010 12:00 pm

OK, Guys, here goes my usual senile attempt to post the next chapter. It's only a quick one and doesn't advance the plot much. Let me know if I'm becoming boring!

THE LAND FARMERS AND THE SAILOR BOYS


Torture Time


Alex announced that it was torture time and lifted his slave from the floor by the strap round his neck. He thought that one of the words he heard might have been “bastard” but it was impossible to tell because of the belt that he had fastened into Action Man’s mouth. “Oh, isn’t it tight enough? So sorry.” And, where the belt had settled, Alex managed to tighten it another notch after undoing the hood of the sleeping bag. Now he was sure that one word was “bastard” but was another one “ginger”?

The belt forced Action Man’s jaws wide open and, although it rendered him unintelligible, his shouts were not particularly muffled. He wondered why he hadn’t thought of it before Alex did. He was beginning to wonder how he was going to persuade this red-haired guy to imprison him for a whole weekend soon.

Alex had his prisoner standing with his knees bent, unable to straighten them due to the chain between his ankles and his wrists. He removed the belts round the maggot’s neck and waist, cut the gaffer tape from his ankles, waist and arms and un-zipped the sleeping bag. Rivulets of sweat were still running down Action Man’s body and his sweat-darkened boxers were now providing very little privacy as they clung tightly to his body. His whole muscular body seemed to heave a sigh of relief.

Alex allowed his prisoner a few moments on his knees to recover before taking hold of the chain round his neck and making him bunny-hop out of the door, round to the back of the building and left him standing against a tree that Action Man guessed was the large oak near the back fence. The cool was so welcome that he couldn’t really care what was about to happen to him.

Alex got a length of rope and threaded it between Action Man’s elbows and round the back of the tree. Tying it off left the victim’s arms tightly clamped to the oak. Another rope tied around both Acton Man’s neck and the tree stopped him leaning forward. That was important for what was to come. Finally, Alex undid the padlocks around Action Mans ankles that were stopping him straightening his legs. Relief at last! Or . . .

Alex took more rope and started as usual with a clove hitch and two further turns tied around his victim’s right ankle. He brought the rope round the back of the tree and applied more knotting to the left ankle, having pulled Action Mans legs just about as far apart as possible.

Now Alex was sure: one word was “ginger”, another was “bastard” but what could the one be that sounded like “U’ing”?

The release of the chain between Action Man’s ankles and his wrists allowed a welcome bit of arm movement but Alex had taken that into account. He inserted a stick in the back of the rope between his victim’s arms, gave it two twists, tightening his arms up again. He then hooked the stick a few times into the ropes to hold it in place.

Action man could take no evasive measures at all. That was what Alex wanted.

Alex could be heard unpacking something and shortly afterwards Action man felt something solid being fastened over his head, it was obviously some sort of helmet. When he felt the visor go down he was pretty sure he knew what sort it was! As Alex continued his preparations, the noises fell into place.

“Oh, crap!” Action Man was now starting to get exited and he knew that his boxers were providing no privacy whatsoever.

Alex invited the other boys to witness the “Fate of all Tyrants”. That might have been a bit over-blown but he was enjoying himself.

So was a totally embarrassed Action Man.

The noises were Alex preparing his paint-ball gun.

Shot one: straight into the left nipple. A pleasing, breathless scream came from the victim. “Christ”, thought Action Man, “I hope this kid’s a good shot”. He didn’t want to receive anything too low!

Shot two: not quite so good, just missed right nipple. A pleasing squeal escaped the belt in the target’s mouth. Alex now thought he’d figured out the meaning of the “U’ing” word.

Shot three: straight to the belly button. By this stage shall we say that Action Man’s still damp boxers no longer clung quite so tightly to the front of his upper thighs as they had a few minutes before.

Alex then announced that he would mark his target so that everyone could better appreciate his marksmanship. He got a marker pen and drew three respectably accurate concentric circles centred on Action Man’s solar plexus. He also drew two eyes on his blindfold just for fun. “I shall shoot until I score 30”, the showman announced, 3 for an inner, 2 for the next and 1 for an outer.”

Action Man made that at least 10 more shots. Yes, Alex was now sure about that word.

More shots were fired and Alex announced the scores as each shot hit. Then he sent one deliberately a little low. “Oops! Sorry.” That word again!

“And to finish: two more nipple shots!” Alex was as good as his word.

The almost totally immobile target was left covered in paint and quite considerably bruised. He was now even more determined than ever to get Alex to own him for a whole weekend. But he knew that it would be better to play along. . .

Alex announced that he would leave his latest artwork to dry in the sun even though he had been in the shadow cast by the canopy of the oak tree throughout and would continue to be so. A further unintelligible string of imprecations escaped from Action Man’s mouth. “Naughty, naughty”, said his tormentor, “You know what happens to little boys who use words like that”. With that he clipped a red and a green bulldog clip onto his frantically wriggling victim’s nipples. The searing pain didn’t help Action Man to be any easier to understand but I think everyone got the drift.

“No, sorry, that’s not right; you look like a ship with them on your tits”. Action Man was almost disappointed to have the clips removed so quickly but he couldn’t afford to show it. “That’s better!” A further searing pain shot through Action Man’s body as Alex replaced the bulldog clips with two matching yellow ones. His aesthetic requirements having been satisfied Alex left his prisoner to suffer. But not in silence!

The target knew that he had until three o’clock before he was free and seriously doubted that he could endure the pain of the nipple clips for that long. Alex removed them after about 5 minutes. He also untied his ankles but Action Man could still not really stand straight. The release of the stick pulling his elbows tight to the tree allowed the prisoner a certain freedom of movement and he gradually worked the rope further up the trunk of the tree until he could stand more comfortably. He still had a long wait.
Last edited by xtc on Thu Feb 27, 2014 7:11 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