Adrian's Farm is the second part of Nicholas H.'s tie-up games saga. It follows Discovered!
It is made of several tales. Here is the first one....
The Boys' Knotty Summer
Book 2 - Adrian's Farm
by Nicholas H.
Illustrations by Cinched
Initiation's End
My ears strained at a faint noise. I sat up in bed, and being in extreme drowsiness, had some trouble turning on the lamp adjacent to Ty’s double bed. The alarm clock displayed 6:00; we had barely had an hour of sleep, since in all our sleepovers it was common for us to continue chatting long after the lights went off.
What was that noise? I turned my head sideways. Tyler lay next to me on his stomach, still engrossed in his dreams and snoring rather loudly.
Aww, Tyler…
“Dude, wake up. You’re snoring and I can’t sleep.” I pushed him but it was useless; it had always been a total challenge waking my cousin up. Well, at least he had overcome that sleep-walker phase about a year ago that really gave me the freaks.
As my eyes adapted to the darkness, I gave a quick look at him, going through his dark-brown hair, his hairless tanned back until I reached Tyler’s arms which were bound at the wrists!!!
“What the hell?!!" I was startled.
I don’t remember doing that - did he tie himself up?
My mind was racing when I figured out it was not only Tyler’s sleeping disorders that’d woken me up that morning.
Someone was near. I could feel the intruder. I tensed, but Tyler had seemingly sensed neither the ropes being fastened around his wrists nor the raspy steps I had just heard. Actually, it was no surprise; my cousin was such a heavy sleeper he could’ve been carried and still he’d continue snoring.
All of a sudden I saw out the side of my eye, a slender shadow moving faster than I had imagined and whirled too late, a knee on my back pinning me down hard on the bed, twisting my left hand painfully behind my back and clamping a hand over my mouth. My heart was pouncing intensely as I shouted through slim, silky fingers. I recognized immediately the one and only person who had the skill to perform that assault in no time.
“It’s me. I’ll let you speak if you promise not to scream,” he whispered in my right ear. I nodded and he released my mouth, now gripping both of my hands behind my back.
“Jeez Adrian, isn’t this a little bit too early for a tie-up? It’s bloody 6 ‘o clock in the morning!” I complained. He chuckled and positioned my wrists palm to palm.
“I came to take you and your cousin to my place. My dad’s gonna drive us from there.” I felt the first loops of a soft rope being wrapped around my hands separately, then further several rounds around both wrists, before cinching it with a complicate knot.
“You could’ve just asked, you know,” I said as he pulled and secured the cord, inspecting my bonds.
He thought for a while and then answered, “Nah, I like this way better! Kidnapping is more fun,” he chuckled again, “Besides; there are some things we didn’t tell you about our games yet. I’ll call the other guys as soon as we get there. Let’s go.”
The assailant fetched a second rope and knotted one end to my bound hands, slipped the rope beneath my body, lifting me with one arm and finally secured the other rope-end again to the wrists. He helped me on my feet, the rope tightening against my bare waist while I twisted my hands for freedom. He turned the lights on and I caught a glimpse of the boy, who was clad in a lite sleeveless olive-green soldier jacket over a plain white t-shirt, olive shorts, ashen socks and black boots, which suited all too well with his blond military-style hair.
“So, how do I wake him up?” He asked jerking his thumb at Tyler.
“I don’t know… tickle his feet!”
Adrian grinned; he approached silently – as if he’d wake up! -, ran a finger down Ty’s soles, and within seconds the boy was fully awake, laughing his head off and squirming, double-shocked by finding out I was tied up as well. Adrian explained him what was going on, and then he wrapped even more rope around his waist, knotting it off at his wrists. He ordered my cousin to get up and get moving, for we had not much time.
“Wait a minute, I have to put some clothes on!” I said, noticing I had slept only in my white underwear. Adrian rummaged inside Ty’s drawer and grudgingly helped me dress a quite small dark soccer shorts.
“I can’t walk barefoot down the streets,” Ty also complained.
“Me neither!”
“Hey! I am a kidnapper, not your freaking babysitter!”
“Please?” We both gave him irresistible puppy-looks under our disheveled hair.
“Ok, ok… Just don’t kick me.”
We sat down as Adrian picked two pairs of socks and put them on us. I caught an odd expression on his face: while he inserted our feet inside the socks, touched and felt the soles, he was holding himself in excitement not to tickle them! (I have to point out that was the first hint I had of Adrian’s foot fetish).
Then he got our battered sneakers and put them on our socked feet.
“Anything else, ladies?”
“Our stuff,” we said. Adrian picked our bags we had prepared last night and put each one of them on our shoulders.
“Now walk,” he said and pushed us. We were marched downstairs pass the kitchen backdoor.
“What about our breakfast?” I half-complained, mocking.
“Oh, shut up Nick or I’ll gag you,” Adrian snapped. He was dead serious and it was embarrassing enough to be seen shirtless and tied up strolling around in the neighborhood, so I didn’t bother him for the rest of the journey.
It was a glorious day, the dawn spreading its first sunbeams over the dew of the mowed lawn, and over our chests. The street lost its loneliness and silence, broken by the presence of three boys walking down the sidewalk. In the early hours, a gentle wind caressed the soft hair of the younger boy as I noticed he became aware of a bulge in his back pocket.
“Nick, look!” Tyler carefully whispered, looking at Adrian a few meters away in front of us. I was amazed to see he had cut the ropes with a pocketknife, and was handing it to me, concealing his hands behind his back! Then I remembered Tyler had placed it inside his shorts the night before.
“Always be prepared,” he had said.
Adrian had made such a big mistake by allowing us to march behind him. He thought we’d be nice boys. Hehe.
I placed the knife between my fingers and started sawing the ropes, slowly and with ease as not to cut myself. In a matter of seconds I was free and looking into Tyler’s eyes, nodding my assent – the unspoken plan was to jump Adrian and try to overpower him. He could easily take us individually, but together, that’s another story. Each one quickly retrieved a length of rope from the duffel bags and attacked.
“Whatthafu…” He turned around but we were faster and tackled him.
I went for the left arm, performing a hammerlock – a wrestling hold he had taught me some time ago – and forced him to lie on the ground. I sat on his butt, still holding his arm; Adrian then tried to throw me off by rolling to the opposite side, which he would’ve accomplished had Tyler not helped me with a knee on the boy’s shoulders and a hand on his head, thus immobilizing Adrian’s upper part, no strength left to get up.
“Get his other arm! Quick!” We were in a hurry since Adrian was a well-known wrestler and therefore couldn’t be allowed any time at all to react.
He put up quite a fight and proved to have a very strong right arm – Tyler had to use both hands - but finally we had him pinned down on the humid grass with both of his arms pulled behind his back.
We switched places; Tyler now sat on Adrian’s legs (he started to kick me) and as he held Adrian’s wrists palm to palm, I wrapped the rope vertically and horizontally around them from the opposite side, facing my cousin, with both of my knees pressured on top of Adrian’s shoulder blades. I took special care in cinching and knotting it off well beyond the reach of his fingers. We really didn’t want him to escape! My knots were competent and held, but they were still not as tight and finger-proof as the ones Adrian had used on us. In the end, I was thrilled; that was the first time I tied someone apart from Tyler, and it felt great!
To further restrict my new prisoner, I tied his elbows together with the second piece of rope.
“Take it easy! Not so tight!” Adrian groaned.
Tyler then fetched a longer coil of rope from his bag and used it around Adrian’s waist in the same fashion: he attached Adrian’s bound hands to his back and wrapped the rest of if tightly around his arms and chest.
I searched his jacket and shorts pockets for any kind of objects he could use to free himself. We weren’t sure he could manage to escape like we had done, but we were not taking any chances. There was a Swiss pocketknife, a pair of hankies, a 2 meters-long cotton rope and a small roll of black electrical tape.
We stepped back and admired our handiwork. We contemplated with pleasure as Adrian rolled on his back, wriggled and squirmed as much as his tied upper body would allow, finally covering his hair and face with a sheen of perspiration. He was going nowhere.
“What a surprise, Adrian, huh?”
He answered, “So this is your big idea, huh? And what do you think you’re gonna do when I show up at my house like this? You idiots, you’ll never take all the other three guys.”
“Let me worry about that, ok? We have this all figured out,” I lied.
“Now be quiet, it’s time to be gagged!” I grinned.
“No! I’m NOT going to be gagged here, anyone can see me! I'm serious! Wait - !” He pleaded.
After Tyler had inserted a multi-colored hankies inside his mouth and held it with a hand, I unmercifully wrapped transparent tape around his head, making all his attempts to speak mere mppphhhhhfs. He looked so helpless! I could see Adrian’s wide lips taped shut and his bulging cheeks. Adrian shrieked and struggled, to no avail.
We helped him on his feet and resumed our short trip towards Adrian’s house; now we marched Adrian frombehind, where we could keep an eye on his hands and pushing him in a rather hurried pace because we knew we had to get there before the others.
As we turned the block I made out Adrian’s house: an imposing white-and-blue Victorian building with a massive front yard and presumably a backyard twice as big. Tyler led the way, since I had never been there before. We forded the house and entered through a small fence in the back and continued through a path to an entrance in the kitchen. We ran upstairs, went into Adrian’s room and locked the door.
Nobody saw us. Great.
We laid our prisoner on the bed, removed his boots and socks (not a nice smell), crossed his ankles and tied tight with a torn piece of cloth. Then Ty hogtied him twice with bathrobe belts, joining both his wrists and elbows to his ankles, which pulled his chest up.
I poked my fingers at our prisoner’s sides.
“Mphhhhhhhhhhhf” he yelled through the clear tape sealing his lips.
“He’s really ticklish! We’re gonna have good time together, aren’t we?” I said with a smirk.
“Wait Nick, we need him first.
“Adrian, will you cooperate with us?” Tyler asked.
Adrian began shaking his head no and stopped at Tyler’s menacing grin, realizing what would come.
“Show him, Nick.” As soon as Ty said it, I lifted Adrian’s shirt over his head and attacked his bare ribcage with my fingers, brushing them back and forth in a frantic tickling motion. He reacted by rocking on his taut belly and squirming savagely, laughing and mpphhhfing what seemed to be a plead for mercy, until his white cheeks were wet with tears. I almost felt sorry for him – almost!
I slowly removed his gag as he squealed because of the painful hair-pulling.
“Spit them out,” I said and he obeyed. Tyler dialed a number on the phone while Adrian was gasping for breath, surrendered at last.
“I’m calling Adam. Tell him to come here right away,” Tyler ordered and placed the phone against Adrian’s face.
“Hi Adam, yea, it’s Adrian. Yep,” he spoke as if nothing had happened, “I’ve got them here; all trussed up and waiting. Yeah. Can you come over? Tell the guys... Ok. See ya.” Adrian finished the conversation.
“He’s coming in a few minumpppphhhhhf! “ I cut him off by shoving again the handkerchiefs in his mouth and securing it with several rounds of the previous tape.
“The initiation tickling from yesterday was brutal, man, and you’re all gonna pay for it,” Tyler told the blond boy.
“Well done Nick.” Tyler smiled.
“Well done Ty,” I replied and we did our silly brothers-by-choice forever handshake.
I glanced back at Adrian and caught him trying to work out his wrists knots.
“What the hell you think you’re doing?” I said. Then I fetched the black electrical tape and while Tyler stretched Adrian’s fingers, I wrapped the tape tightly around them, over and over again, only leaving his fingernails untaped. Then I attached his taped hands to his butt by further wrapping the tape around his body. That’s what it means not even being able to wiggle your fingers!
Adrian mmmphed and squirmed. He was absolutely pitiable. And now it was just a matter of time we got the others and consequently, our revenge…
The Boys' Knotty Summer 2 - Adrian's Farm by Nicholas H. mm/mm + pics
Moderator: Archiver
-
Bondwriter
- Centennial Club
- Posts: 575
- Joined: 6 years ago
The Boys' Knotty Summer 2 - Adrian's Farm by Nicholas H. mm/mm + pics
Last edited by Bondwriter 4 years ago, edited 2 times in total.
Thanks for the continuation.
They all say boxer shorts are cool,
but little Speedos always rule.
but little Speedos always rule.
Nothing like some innocent fun with a bunch of sadistic kids. Thanks for posting.
Add me to the list of those who are happy that you are reposting Nicholas' stories!
-
Bondwriter
- Centennial Club
- Posts: 575
- Joined: 6 years ago
Thanks, Canuck. One more tale in the series
Getting Phil
by Nicholas H.
Tyler and I left the room where our buddy lay struggling against his bonds, knowing his exertions would turn out rather unsuccessful. The plan was to subdue the four initiators (preferably one by one) in order to materialize our payback. The next boy to take was Phil, Adrian’s little brother. We wondered whether he was still sleeping in one of the rooms and went out looking for him.
There was only one problem: the house was huge, mind-boggingly extensive; its architecture comprised of several corridors intertwined in a most luxurious labyrinth whose walls were decorated with all sorts of medieval armors in between countless doors, and paintings that make you wonder why they’re not in some prestigious museum.
“We’ve gotta find him, and fast.” I knew what Tyler meant. Adam and Chris had been summoned by Adrian and it would be better if they didn’t surprise us unprepared. Tyler had indeed visited Adrian and Phil before, but he got to know only Adrian’s bedroom – and sometimes even got lost!
We rushed like ghosts through the dark-green corridors, rope and duct-tape in hand, clueless as to which one would be the right room. Not much had passed when I glanced left and stopped at a massive linoleum door with a contrasting ivory carved sign on it, the letters apparently from a 12-year-old boy: Phil.
“Well, that was easy,” I observed.
“Nick! Keep it quiet. We don’t know if their parents are here,” Ty whispered.
He checked the door, eager to break in. It was unlocked. Tyler grinned back at me, turned slowly the knob and entered. The area had as only poor source of illumination a dim lamplight over the single bed, giving it a sinister aspect, however enough to make out several t-shirts, shoes and worn-out socks scattered all over a carpeted floor. I followed him and smoothly moved across until we reached a bed where Phil slept profoundly on. Yes! We have him. He rested on his back, one arm over his stomach, another above his head and one leg bent up. There was much resemblance to his brother; over the soft childish face, covered with disheveled light blond locks of hair, the lamp poured its light leaving the boy’s clear skin even whiter. He was only clad in a blue t-shirt and white briefs, lean hairless legs exposed and the blanket left aside perhaps due to the increasing heat or stimulating dreams. My heart pounced as we prepared our assault, mimicking and whispering the moves we were to perform.
On impulse, I ripped a large strip of tape and placed it tightly over Phil’s small reddened lips, my hand pressed on top. I knew this wasn’t effective, but it would keep him quiet for the time being (and it looked great too!). He duly awaked in great astonishment squirming on response, but we had him already turned over and Tyler was tying his crossed wrists expertly by the time Phil started kicking him. That gave me no choice but to sit on his butt, grab his lean feet, wrap them in a white coil of rope and cinch his ankles. Tyler had just finished binding his hands and elbows together when I came up with an idea. I fetched a longer rope, tied one end to the ankles, pulled up above his head and secured it to the headpost; another cord was attached to the bound wrists, pulled down as much as it would go back between his legs, tied it off to the opposite side of the bed. We stepped back and admired pleasantly our little prisoner, in this funny new position. He had his bound feet hanging above his butt while his flexible arms were straightened back and lashed to the opposite post, arching his back greatly in a rather uncomfortable predicament.
We gave Phil some time to test his bonds before letting him know what was going on (weren’t we evil or what?). They held but were not excessively tight, allowing him to struggle at his will. In a matter of minutes he was drenched in perspiration and breathing heavily, looking at us with pleading green eyes.
“Mpppphhhhhhh, mppppph,” he said through his gag. There was a distressing look on his face. Tyler then noticed that the layer of duct tape was peeling off and decided to produce a more effective one. I turned on the lights, grabbed the first sock I found and handed it to Ty. He prepared to shove it into our buddy’s mouth but I stopped him.
“Wait… I want him to taste the same gag he gave me,” I said and rummaged inside the closet. Phil mphhed loudly as I displayed a black rubber ball to him – maybe the same one used in our initiation - and slipped it inside the long green sock.
“We’re going to give you a chance to speak, but if you dare to scream for help…,“ Tyler paused and made him giggle by slightly brushing his fingertips over the boy’s soles, “you’re gonna pay”. Poor Phil nodded vigorously and I removed half of the tape covering his mouth.
“Nick, Tyler, I’m really sorry…please let me go…, I – mphhhhfff,” he started begging but I handgagged him.
“Speak only if you’re told to, got it?” he nodded his assent and I withdrew my hand.
“Is there anyone home besides Adrian?”
“No. My Dad’s coming around ten though, to pick us up,” he answered somewhat frightened.
“Great,” I muttered.
“Let’s check on Adrian. He must be thirsty. Now, if you open wide like a good boy we’ll be fair with you when it’s torture time.”
“No… please…” He had this pitiable voice that made your eyes watery just by hearing it. Absolutely pathetic.
“Open!” I demanded.
Phil obeyed, shyly opening his lips, and I forced the balled sock far beyond his teeth, eliciting a cry as it opened his jaw wide and thus smothered any attempt of complains. Tyler took the pillow and used its pillowcase to wrap it around Phil’s head, securing the gag.
“There you go! Isn’t that comfy?” I stood and patted his head.
“Don’t worry, no one will see you all tied up.”
Without further explanations as to what we would do with him when we returned – or if we would return at all! – we left. Tyler removed the key from the door. We stepped outside the room, closing slowly the door as we saw Phil wriggle, and locked it.
On the stroll back to Adrian’s room, we heard the familiar muffled sounds of a gagged person trying to cry for help. At first, we thought someone had arrived and found him. We prepared to jump on whoever was tickling him but then we saw most unusual thing. It turned out we had left the door open, so Adrian’s dog – a cub Cocker - jumped on the bed and started licking his helpless toes relentlessly for almost 20 minutes! We just couldn’t stop laughing, it was hilarious! Adrian in his desperate hogtie wiggled and laughed his head off until we finally put the dog outside and removed his gag. He just rested his head as drops of sweat ran down his reddened face from his short blonde hair. Exhaustion and embarrassment were printed on the boy’s face.
“It’s not funny! Stop laughing!”
Even though Adrian was truly angry, I felt an urge and produced a feather I tickled him with.
“Hahahahahaha-stop, noooooooooo!”
Just when Tyler and I attacked his bare skin on his ribs, there was a knock on the door. I instantaneously clamped both of my hands over Adrian’s mouth to prevent him from alerting whoever was outside.My mind was racing. I glanced at Tyler who made his best to imitate Adrian, since he had a low pitch voice.
“Who is it?” He tried.
“Adam. C’mon, let me in.”
“Sure, just a sec!” Tyler smirked, picked up a coil of rope and headed towards the door while I re-gagged Adrian and joined him.
TBC
Getting Phil
by Nicholas H.
Tyler and I left the room where our buddy lay struggling against his bonds, knowing his exertions would turn out rather unsuccessful. The plan was to subdue the four initiators (preferably one by one) in order to materialize our payback. The next boy to take was Phil, Adrian’s little brother. We wondered whether he was still sleeping in one of the rooms and went out looking for him.
There was only one problem: the house was huge, mind-boggingly extensive; its architecture comprised of several corridors intertwined in a most luxurious labyrinth whose walls were decorated with all sorts of medieval armors in between countless doors, and paintings that make you wonder why they’re not in some prestigious museum.
“We’ve gotta find him, and fast.” I knew what Tyler meant. Adam and Chris had been summoned by Adrian and it would be better if they didn’t surprise us unprepared. Tyler had indeed visited Adrian and Phil before, but he got to know only Adrian’s bedroom – and sometimes even got lost!
We rushed like ghosts through the dark-green corridors, rope and duct-tape in hand, clueless as to which one would be the right room. Not much had passed when I glanced left and stopped at a massive linoleum door with a contrasting ivory carved sign on it, the letters apparently from a 12-year-old boy: Phil.
“Well, that was easy,” I observed.
“Nick! Keep it quiet. We don’t know if their parents are here,” Ty whispered.
He checked the door, eager to break in. It was unlocked. Tyler grinned back at me, turned slowly the knob and entered. The area had as only poor source of illumination a dim lamplight over the single bed, giving it a sinister aspect, however enough to make out several t-shirts, shoes and worn-out socks scattered all over a carpeted floor. I followed him and smoothly moved across until we reached a bed where Phil slept profoundly on. Yes! We have him. He rested on his back, one arm over his stomach, another above his head and one leg bent up. There was much resemblance to his brother; over the soft childish face, covered with disheveled light blond locks of hair, the lamp poured its light leaving the boy’s clear skin even whiter. He was only clad in a blue t-shirt and white briefs, lean hairless legs exposed and the blanket left aside perhaps due to the increasing heat or stimulating dreams. My heart pounced as we prepared our assault, mimicking and whispering the moves we were to perform.
On impulse, I ripped a large strip of tape and placed it tightly over Phil’s small reddened lips, my hand pressed on top. I knew this wasn’t effective, but it would keep him quiet for the time being (and it looked great too!). He duly awaked in great astonishment squirming on response, but we had him already turned over and Tyler was tying his crossed wrists expertly by the time Phil started kicking him. That gave me no choice but to sit on his butt, grab his lean feet, wrap them in a white coil of rope and cinch his ankles. Tyler had just finished binding his hands and elbows together when I came up with an idea. I fetched a longer rope, tied one end to the ankles, pulled up above his head and secured it to the headpost; another cord was attached to the bound wrists, pulled down as much as it would go back between his legs, tied it off to the opposite side of the bed. We stepped back and admired pleasantly our little prisoner, in this funny new position. He had his bound feet hanging above his butt while his flexible arms were straightened back and lashed to the opposite post, arching his back greatly in a rather uncomfortable predicament.
We gave Phil some time to test his bonds before letting him know what was going on (weren’t we evil or what?). They held but were not excessively tight, allowing him to struggle at his will. In a matter of minutes he was drenched in perspiration and breathing heavily, looking at us with pleading green eyes.
“Mpppphhhhhhh, mppppph,” he said through his gag. There was a distressing look on his face. Tyler then noticed that the layer of duct tape was peeling off and decided to produce a more effective one. I turned on the lights, grabbed the first sock I found and handed it to Ty. He prepared to shove it into our buddy’s mouth but I stopped him.
“Wait… I want him to taste the same gag he gave me,” I said and rummaged inside the closet. Phil mphhed loudly as I displayed a black rubber ball to him – maybe the same one used in our initiation - and slipped it inside the long green sock.
“We’re going to give you a chance to speak, but if you dare to scream for help…,“ Tyler paused and made him giggle by slightly brushing his fingertips over the boy’s soles, “you’re gonna pay”. Poor Phil nodded vigorously and I removed half of the tape covering his mouth.
“Nick, Tyler, I’m really sorry…please let me go…, I – mphhhhfff,” he started begging but I handgagged him.
“Speak only if you’re told to, got it?” he nodded his assent and I withdrew my hand.
“Is there anyone home besides Adrian?”
“No. My Dad’s coming around ten though, to pick us up,” he answered somewhat frightened.
“Great,” I muttered.
“Let’s check on Adrian. He must be thirsty. Now, if you open wide like a good boy we’ll be fair with you when it’s torture time.”
“No… please…” He had this pitiable voice that made your eyes watery just by hearing it. Absolutely pathetic.
“Open!” I demanded.
Phil obeyed, shyly opening his lips, and I forced the balled sock far beyond his teeth, eliciting a cry as it opened his jaw wide and thus smothered any attempt of complains. Tyler took the pillow and used its pillowcase to wrap it around Phil’s head, securing the gag.
“There you go! Isn’t that comfy?” I stood and patted his head.
“Don’t worry, no one will see you all tied up.”
Without further explanations as to what we would do with him when we returned – or if we would return at all! – we left. Tyler removed the key from the door. We stepped outside the room, closing slowly the door as we saw Phil wriggle, and locked it.
On the stroll back to Adrian’s room, we heard the familiar muffled sounds of a gagged person trying to cry for help. At first, we thought someone had arrived and found him. We prepared to jump on whoever was tickling him but then we saw most unusual thing. It turned out we had left the door open, so Adrian’s dog – a cub Cocker - jumped on the bed and started licking his helpless toes relentlessly for almost 20 minutes! We just couldn’t stop laughing, it was hilarious! Adrian in his desperate hogtie wiggled and laughed his head off until we finally put the dog outside and removed his gag. He just rested his head as drops of sweat ran down his reddened face from his short blonde hair. Exhaustion and embarrassment were printed on the boy’s face.
“It’s not funny! Stop laughing!”
Even though Adrian was truly angry, I felt an urge and produced a feather I tickled him with.
“Hahahahahaha-stop, noooooooooo!”
Just when Tyler and I attacked his bare skin on his ribs, there was a knock on the door. I instantaneously clamped both of my hands over Adrian’s mouth to prevent him from alerting whoever was outside.My mind was racing. I glanced at Tyler who made his best to imitate Adrian, since he had a low pitch voice.
“Who is it?” He tried.
“Adam. C’mon, let me in.”
“Sure, just a sec!” Tyler smirked, picked up a coil of rope and headed towards the door while I re-gagged Adrian and joined him.
TBC
Shame we haven't got the pics for these tales but worth the re-post neverntheless.
They all say boxer shorts are cool,
but little Speedos always rule.
but little Speedos always rule.
-
Bondwriter
- Centennial Club
- Posts: 575
- Joined: 6 years ago
I'll post two episodes this week, as I didn't last weekend. Still no illustrations to post...
Getting Adam
by Nicholas H.
There’s nothing compared to watch bewilderment and panic rise in a thirteen-year-old’s face as he sets eyes on his tightly trussed up buddy and realizes he’ll be attacked any moment. It’s during that fraction of a second everything is decided: whether he escapes and revenge is frustrated, or capture succeeds and he is submitted to his captor’s desire.
I’m sure all of these thoughts ran through Adam’s mind as he stood motionless, gaping at Adrian’s predicament, then started to realize he had been deceived into an ambush. He didn’t react, despite Adrian’s desperate ‘mphhhhs’; Adam closed his eyes and muttered a resigned “shit”, as he heard the door being shut behind him. It was so perfect, a unique movie-like scene; instantaneously Tyler wrapped his arms around Adam’s chest, pinning the boy and brutally tackling him to the ground.
Ty had Adam’s wrists pulled behind his back when he started to scream.
“Help!!! Help!! Someone! Phil! Chris! HEEEELP!”
“Hey, Nick! Are you going to stand there watching? Help me out here!” Tyler yelled while trying to keep the boy on the floor.
Since Adam would not shut up, I applied the most common combination for a gag: the victim’s own socks and t-shirt. Hey, it’s the best one when you need to shut someone up fast. I was about to wrap rope around Adam’s hands but Tyler stopped me.
“I have an idea. Tie his hands in front.” I raised an eyebrow but nevertheless turned Adam on his back, squatted beside him and as Ty held Adam’s wrists crossed I began winding turns of rope firmly around them, allowing no precious slack for struggling.
Since Adam was already gagged and hand-bound, I let Tyler continue his scheme. He helped Adam on his feet and marched the kid to one corner of the room. Tyler opened the wardrobe and revealed a long iron bar once he had put aside several suits and clothes that were hanged on it. I therefore involuntarily giggled when it dawned on me what my devious cousin had in mind. Adam, on the other hand, gave us his utmost pleading look and whimpered unintelligible mphhhs. He should have known better that we weren’t letting him get away just like that, oh no, not after the brutal tickle-initiation we had suffered.
“I’m sorry Adam, this is what you fairly deserve,” came my rejoining. Tyler agreed. I grabbed the tied wrists' loose end and pulled it up until Adam was almost on tiptoe and lashed it to the bar, his arms much stretched above his head. The tying over, our prisoner was left gyrating in a complete vulnerability for our tortures. However, it wasn’t time for that. Not yet; desperation and anxiety had to settle in first, thus turning the torture more pleasant (for us!). Well pleased with my handiwork, I stared into the boy’s frightened eyes and subtly ran my fingers down his bear ribs, and felt a bolt of delight when my prisoner began a frantic struggle trying to avoid them.
“Wait a sec,” Tyler complained, noticing something, “he’s not tied up yet.” He fetched a roll of duct tape with which he taped the poor boy’s ankles and knees several times until he was satisfied. To finish it, we further secured him by pinioning his sides with tons of clothes.
“See ya in a few minutes, Adam. And don’t go anywhere, you don’t wanna miss your tickling session,” I said with a derisive tone, grinning broadly.
As soon as we closed the wardrobe, desperate mmmphhs started coming from inside and I wondered how it would be like to be left locked with your hands bound above your head, gagged and unable to use your feet to balance. I definitely have to try that one sometime, I thought(and I did).
“Great. Only one left,” Tyler proclaimed, tasting the imminent, sweetly incomparable victory - not even a Toblerone tasted that good.
He was right. We had just captured Adam, and Phil and Adrian were both secured to their beds. However, Chris was yet to arrive and being the oldest and biggest of all, we had to be more careful when dealing with him. The only chance to submit Chris would be joining our efforts in a surprise attack.
Being thoughtful young boys, we went to check on our prisoners, err, mates. Adrian was lying still gagged on his bed and showed no signs of having tried to struggle further against the bonds that kept him snugly hogtied. Adrian nodded when asked if he was comfortable.
“I’m gonna see if lil’ Phil is okay. Stay here and keep an eye on them.”
Tyler left the room rather hurried.
I sat next to Adrian, whom I started playing with. After retrieving a shoe lace from my bag, I tied his toes together and launched a gentle but unmerciful attack on the very ticklish spots of his feet. Adrian went mad. Squirming was all he could because of the way he was tied.
“Mmmmmphhhhh mphhhhh!!!!” The skinny blond boy shouted while he mightily struggled as much as his bonds allowed. He tried to twist his arms, but they were bound at the elbows and wrists; his feet attempted to avoid the torture but they were secured to his hands. He looked ridiculous putting a great deal of effort on struggling, accomplishing only insignificant silly movements however. And the tickling went on and on until pitiful Adrian was drenched in perspiration, all his body covered with a layer of glistening sweat.
“This is just a sneak peek, Adrian.” At this stage, he was breathing heavily, exhausted from all the writhing and squealing. I inspected the knots making sure he hadn’t loosened any. When I was tightening the ropes around Adrian’s wrists I noticed something. Adrian had a wrist-watch: it displayed 7.20 am. Tyler had been gone for more than 15 minutes!!
“Why is he taking so long?! He only had to check if Phil was ok!” I thought out loud. Adrian kind of chuckled through the tape.
“Just wait ‘till he gets here! You won’t be that happy then.”
I was starting to get nervous. Minutes passed by and no signs of Ty. I couldn’t risk abandoning the room either. Several gloomy thoughts ran through my mind, but I shrugged them off.
He’s just fine! Being the lazy dork he is, Tyler is probably fetching himself a sandwich in the kitchen, I thought, reassuringly.
I was already prepared to resume my torture on Adrian when a piece of paper was slipped under the door and someone’s footsteps faded away. My heart pounced as I picked it up and was flabbergasted with what I lay my eyes upon. It was an instant Polaroid photograph where Tyler was bound, gagged and blindfolded!
“Fuck.”
He was standing, hands tied in front; the upper body, completely wrapped in rope, as well as the lower part, at knees and ankles, which seemed to be really tight. My cousin, kind of mummified, was also lashed to a pole in what I recognized as the basement, and he had tape plastered like an X across his face. Under the picture, it was written “Mphhhh!!” in black marker ink.
I clenched my teeth in sheer anger. Our plan, about to be foiled. Who’d done it? Could Phil have freed himself and then attacked Ty when he entered his room? Or was it Chris who had arrived without being noticed and found my cousin on his way to check on Phil? I knew the basement thing was an ambush. If Chris was the one who had done this, I could hardly offer resistance; I could, however, easily overpower Phil which was a lanky boy two years younger than me. Should I take the risk? Hmm… Rescue my cousin or not..? What the hell am I thinking?! Of course I have to go save him!
I left the room. A strange – but sensible - feeling made me go back and lock the door, the key in my back pocket. I looked both ways and slowly started following the mental map I had drawn so I’d have no trouble finding Phil’s room again.
The corridor was creepy-silent. Lights were out, which was good - I wouldn’t be spotted – but at the same time it gave an important advantage to my enemy – he could hide anywhere to jump on me. My steps, luckily, were muffled by the thick fluffy red carpeted floor, although it also impeded me from hearing if someone was near. Therefore, I had to be extremely cautious, suspecting of every shadow I made out and constantly looking back to see if I wasn’t being followed. It took me some time to get there, only to find the door locked. Tyler had taken the key with him. No sounds came from the inside so I moved on, went downstairs, through the kitchen - bumping my knee against the table in the process -, opened the basement access and listened. I had to know if my cousin was really there, or if it was just a trap – or both.
Cautiously, I descended a few steps, just to catch a glimpse of my cousin who was still pretty much the same as in the photo. His blindfold had been removed, and he was busy squirming as much as he could. Which wasn't much. There was no one around him. Maybe the attacker went out looking for me, I thought. I gained more confidence and continued, but at the next step, the stairs creaked loudly. Tyler spotted me and began yelling, almost whimpering inside his gag. It looked like he was trying to tell me something. Duh. Ok, I got it; I was in potential trouble, so I had to get out of there fast. I turned around and ran upstairs, but someone appeared through the door.
It was Adrian.
Getting Adam
by Nicholas H.
There’s nothing compared to watch bewilderment and panic rise in a thirteen-year-old’s face as he sets eyes on his tightly trussed up buddy and realizes he’ll be attacked any moment. It’s during that fraction of a second everything is decided: whether he escapes and revenge is frustrated, or capture succeeds and he is submitted to his captor’s desire.
I’m sure all of these thoughts ran through Adam’s mind as he stood motionless, gaping at Adrian’s predicament, then started to realize he had been deceived into an ambush. He didn’t react, despite Adrian’s desperate ‘mphhhhs’; Adam closed his eyes and muttered a resigned “shit”, as he heard the door being shut behind him. It was so perfect, a unique movie-like scene; instantaneously Tyler wrapped his arms around Adam’s chest, pinning the boy and brutally tackling him to the ground.
Ty had Adam’s wrists pulled behind his back when he started to scream.
“Help!!! Help!! Someone! Phil! Chris! HEEEELP!”
“Hey, Nick! Are you going to stand there watching? Help me out here!” Tyler yelled while trying to keep the boy on the floor.
Since Adam would not shut up, I applied the most common combination for a gag: the victim’s own socks and t-shirt. Hey, it’s the best one when you need to shut someone up fast. I was about to wrap rope around Adam’s hands but Tyler stopped me.
“I have an idea. Tie his hands in front.” I raised an eyebrow but nevertheless turned Adam on his back, squatted beside him and as Ty held Adam’s wrists crossed I began winding turns of rope firmly around them, allowing no precious slack for struggling.
Since Adam was already gagged and hand-bound, I let Tyler continue his scheme. He helped Adam on his feet and marched the kid to one corner of the room. Tyler opened the wardrobe and revealed a long iron bar once he had put aside several suits and clothes that were hanged on it. I therefore involuntarily giggled when it dawned on me what my devious cousin had in mind. Adam, on the other hand, gave us his utmost pleading look and whimpered unintelligible mphhhs. He should have known better that we weren’t letting him get away just like that, oh no, not after the brutal tickle-initiation we had suffered.
“I’m sorry Adam, this is what you fairly deserve,” came my rejoining. Tyler agreed. I grabbed the tied wrists' loose end and pulled it up until Adam was almost on tiptoe and lashed it to the bar, his arms much stretched above his head. The tying over, our prisoner was left gyrating in a complete vulnerability for our tortures. However, it wasn’t time for that. Not yet; desperation and anxiety had to settle in first, thus turning the torture more pleasant (for us!). Well pleased with my handiwork, I stared into the boy’s frightened eyes and subtly ran my fingers down his bear ribs, and felt a bolt of delight when my prisoner began a frantic struggle trying to avoid them.
“Wait a sec,” Tyler complained, noticing something, “he’s not tied up yet.” He fetched a roll of duct tape with which he taped the poor boy’s ankles and knees several times until he was satisfied. To finish it, we further secured him by pinioning his sides with tons of clothes.
“See ya in a few minutes, Adam. And don’t go anywhere, you don’t wanna miss your tickling session,” I said with a derisive tone, grinning broadly.
As soon as we closed the wardrobe, desperate mmmphhs started coming from inside and I wondered how it would be like to be left locked with your hands bound above your head, gagged and unable to use your feet to balance. I definitely have to try that one sometime, I thought(and I did).
“Great. Only one left,” Tyler proclaimed, tasting the imminent, sweetly incomparable victory - not even a Toblerone tasted that good.
He was right. We had just captured Adam, and Phil and Adrian were both secured to their beds. However, Chris was yet to arrive and being the oldest and biggest of all, we had to be more careful when dealing with him. The only chance to submit Chris would be joining our efforts in a surprise attack.
Being thoughtful young boys, we went to check on our prisoners, err, mates. Adrian was lying still gagged on his bed and showed no signs of having tried to struggle further against the bonds that kept him snugly hogtied. Adrian nodded when asked if he was comfortable.
“I’m gonna see if lil’ Phil is okay. Stay here and keep an eye on them.”
Tyler left the room rather hurried.
I sat next to Adrian, whom I started playing with. After retrieving a shoe lace from my bag, I tied his toes together and launched a gentle but unmerciful attack on the very ticklish spots of his feet. Adrian went mad. Squirming was all he could because of the way he was tied.
“Mmmmmphhhhh mphhhhh!!!!” The skinny blond boy shouted while he mightily struggled as much as his bonds allowed. He tried to twist his arms, but they were bound at the elbows and wrists; his feet attempted to avoid the torture but they were secured to his hands. He looked ridiculous putting a great deal of effort on struggling, accomplishing only insignificant silly movements however. And the tickling went on and on until pitiful Adrian was drenched in perspiration, all his body covered with a layer of glistening sweat.
“This is just a sneak peek, Adrian.” At this stage, he was breathing heavily, exhausted from all the writhing and squealing. I inspected the knots making sure he hadn’t loosened any. When I was tightening the ropes around Adrian’s wrists I noticed something. Adrian had a wrist-watch: it displayed 7.20 am. Tyler had been gone for more than 15 minutes!!
“Why is he taking so long?! He only had to check if Phil was ok!” I thought out loud. Adrian kind of chuckled through the tape.
“Just wait ‘till he gets here! You won’t be that happy then.”
I was starting to get nervous. Minutes passed by and no signs of Ty. I couldn’t risk abandoning the room either. Several gloomy thoughts ran through my mind, but I shrugged them off.
He’s just fine! Being the lazy dork he is, Tyler is probably fetching himself a sandwich in the kitchen, I thought, reassuringly.
I was already prepared to resume my torture on Adrian when a piece of paper was slipped under the door and someone’s footsteps faded away. My heart pounced as I picked it up and was flabbergasted with what I lay my eyes upon. It was an instant Polaroid photograph where Tyler was bound, gagged and blindfolded!
“Fuck.”
He was standing, hands tied in front; the upper body, completely wrapped in rope, as well as the lower part, at knees and ankles, which seemed to be really tight. My cousin, kind of mummified, was also lashed to a pole in what I recognized as the basement, and he had tape plastered like an X across his face. Under the picture, it was written “Mphhhh!!” in black marker ink.
I clenched my teeth in sheer anger. Our plan, about to be foiled. Who’d done it? Could Phil have freed himself and then attacked Ty when he entered his room? Or was it Chris who had arrived without being noticed and found my cousin on his way to check on Phil? I knew the basement thing was an ambush. If Chris was the one who had done this, I could hardly offer resistance; I could, however, easily overpower Phil which was a lanky boy two years younger than me. Should I take the risk? Hmm… Rescue my cousin or not..? What the hell am I thinking?! Of course I have to go save him!
I left the room. A strange – but sensible - feeling made me go back and lock the door, the key in my back pocket. I looked both ways and slowly started following the mental map I had drawn so I’d have no trouble finding Phil’s room again.
The corridor was creepy-silent. Lights were out, which was good - I wouldn’t be spotted – but at the same time it gave an important advantage to my enemy – he could hide anywhere to jump on me. My steps, luckily, were muffled by the thick fluffy red carpeted floor, although it also impeded me from hearing if someone was near. Therefore, I had to be extremely cautious, suspecting of every shadow I made out and constantly looking back to see if I wasn’t being followed. It took me some time to get there, only to find the door locked. Tyler had taken the key with him. No sounds came from the inside so I moved on, went downstairs, through the kitchen - bumping my knee against the table in the process -, opened the basement access and listened. I had to know if my cousin was really there, or if it was just a trap – or both.
Cautiously, I descended a few steps, just to catch a glimpse of my cousin who was still pretty much the same as in the photo. His blindfold had been removed, and he was busy squirming as much as he could. Which wasn't much. There was no one around him. Maybe the attacker went out looking for me, I thought. I gained more confidence and continued, but at the next step, the stairs creaked loudly. Tyler spotted me and began yelling, almost whimpering inside his gag. It looked like he was trying to tell me something. Duh. Ok, I got it; I was in potential trouble, so I had to get out of there fast. I turned around and ran upstairs, but someone appeared through the door.
It was Adrian.
-
Bondwriter
- Centennial Club
- Posts: 575
- Joined: 6 years ago
Off we go!
by Nicholas H.
So there were we, recaptured, both tied to separate chairs in Adrian’s kitchen. The boys had just finished feeding us breakfast.
Between echoing laughter, we discussed the previous events which firstly led to Tyler’s capture and hence mine, in a – very stupid, I have to admit – attempt to rescue him from the basement, where he’d been bound to a post. In the meanwhile, the blond brothers’ father, Mr. da Silva, read the newspaper and seldom laughed about our conversation or muttered an amused remark.
“But there’s still sumthing I can’t figure out. How Phil n’ Adrian got free?” I asked, puzzled.
“Easy,” Chris began. “When I went upstairs, I saw Tyler from behind; he was about to open Phil’s room. I went like, what the heck! That’s way too suspicious, I thought, you know, cuz Adrian had just called me saying he had HIM prisoner! So, I stormed into the room, wrestled Tyler down, tied him up and then untied Phil. You shoulda seen how he drooled from the gag you put him!” he smirked, teasing Phil, before continuing, “All we had to do then was show Tyler sum of our tickle techniques - in no time he told us where Adrian was, and plus, he even gave us the door key.”
I was outraged.
“Tyler, you big-mouth traitor!!” Tyler was lucky enough that my legs were securely bound to the chair, or else his shins would’ve received some nasty kicks beneath the table.
“What was I supposed to do?! I couldn’t stand it any longer,” he said and gave me a “I’m sorry” look. I shook my head in disapproval.
Phil continued, “Then we took Tyler to the basement, tied him up to a pole and took the pic Phil slid under Adrian’s bedroom door.
“I hid in the hallway and waited till you got out. Then I released Adrian.”
“Hang on, there’s no way you could’ve got in - I locked the door and took the key with me!”
Adrian smiled. “Things here don’t work the way you think, Nick; you sure need to hang around with us more often. If you did, you coulda had a small chance at beatin’ us, cuz you’d already know my and Phil’s room have the exact same door lock.” I gaped as Adrian opened his fists, revealing two identical golden keys on his palm.
“This means my bro used the key Tyler handed over to Chris to get inside my room and untie me. Then we bolted downstairs to capture you. Well, you know how it all ended up, don’tcha?” He patted my head, clearly making reference to how they had masterfully crushed our plan and rendered us prisoners; the strategy and deceit of using Tyler as bait while Adrian was released made me wonder if this kid hadn’t received some sort of military training!
When everybody had had enough food to withstand the long trip to the farm, Mr. Silva asked the boys to clear the table, task which we were spared from for obvious reasons. It was only then that I noticed only three boys stood up.
“Hey, where’s Adam?”
No one answered. Their eyes froze wide open; their breathing stopped, a stunned expression swept their faces as they went pale. The boys slowly exchanged that glance, the one that means something is wrong; the glance you give when you forgot to do something very, very important; or more accurately, the one a man on his wedding day would have if he woke up with a hangover - lying on a public toilet seat at 3 in the afternoon.
“Oh shit…,” Adrian turned around to face me and cried, “We forgot Adam inside my closet!”
The three of them instantaneously dashed upstairs. Tyler and I just burst out laughing, almost wetting ourselves since we couldn’t stop it, until we heard them coming back; I twisted my head to glance at a still bound Adam who uttered the wildest imprecations against his chums while they tried to apologize.
“We are soo sorry, Adam,” Adrian said, sounding as regretful as possible.
“It wasn’t on purpose - ”
“Please, Adam, don’t be like this!” The boy continued to trash around and curse loudly.
“We went to getcha right away after we captured Nick and Tyler!”
“What?!” I said. “If I hadn’t asked—mpphhhffff!!” Adrian slapped his hand over my mouth and glared down at me. Then he looked at Tyler across the table, who was about to say something, and menacingly unsheathed a feather from his pocket at him, whispering, “Don’t you dare!”
Tyler, the coward ticklish scoundrel he is, slowly closed his mouth, biting his lower lips in concern of what might happen to him otherwise.
I continued to mmphh as Adam grew more and more furious.
“Calm down, Adam, you know we didn’t forget you!” Chris tried to explain but the kid was absorbed in anger, trying to kick his companions since his hands remained tied in front.
“Chill out man - don’t – wait – ahhhhhhhfffffuccck!!” Adam had succeeded in kneeing Phil, you know where. It was a nasty sight; I even cringed with the blow. As the poor blond boy contorted around the floor, moaning in pain, cupping the affected area with his hands, Adam was seized by the arms and forced to sit on a chair next to me.
“Watch out! Tie him up over there!” Adrian ordered, his palm still firmly pressed against my face as I continued mmppphhing and Phil continued wailing.
“Believe us Adam, for your own safety we’ll have to leave ya like this; we can’t untie you till you’ve cooled off.” It was not a question. Chris further secured Adam’s wrists down to his thighs and the upper body to the back of the chair.
“Untie me right now!”
“Adam, NO,” Adrian countered, half-begging.
“At least I deserve to know the truth!
“Let Nick talk!” Adam growled.
“What? He was just fooling around!” Adrian said, nonchalantly grinning from ear to ear.
“Oh yeah? If he’s got nothing important to tell, why do you have your hand over his mouth?”
A dumb smile remained on Adrian’s face, not knowing how or what to reply. He murmured an apology, but the more he tried to resist the idea he’d been nabbed, the more he realized how useless it was. He sighed. Finger by finger, he un-gagged me and stepped aside, lowering his head, resignedly waiting to take it all.
Adam set his severe gaze on me, eager to erupt in more lava-like obscenities against the boys as soon as I told him what he wanted to hear. And I boasted ecstatically.
“Adrian totally forg…!”
But I couldn’t finish the sentence; I couldn’t help noticing Adrian’s void gaze locked on the floor between his socked feet. The green eyes seemed now so weary, so melancholic and sapped up of whatever striking, fear-provoking power they had possessed minutes before. There was even a gloomy aura around the once buoyant and energetic blond boy, a sole word able to describe his state: sad. And to tell the truth, it was the only moment I ever felt real pity for somebody.
It was a well-known fact among us that Adrian and Adam were like brothers. Friends for as long as they could remember, you almost never saw one of them without the other by his side; they went to the same school, in the same class, and did everything together: soccer, wrestling, swimming, fishing, etc., and tie-up games were no exception. By taking turns at tying each other up during sleepovers, and after having attended some summer camps together, they came up with the idea of a TUG group. The two boys’ first recruit was Adrian’s little brother, Phil, on whom they had occasionally ganged up – and who had no choice whatsoever but to participate. Their dual charm and persuasive skills worked wonders for talking Chris into it, a 14-year-old boy from the soccer team that – they had noticed it - didn’t mind hanging out with younger kids. Now it was to be Tyler and me… To put it briefly, If Adam and Adrian (the AA team) hadn’t gotten along well, I would’ve never had the chance to experiment these – and further - games I’d only dreamed about taking part in. The realization that I owed all this to both of them was the cause that subdued my revenge and forced me to reconsider. I stopped and started over.
“Uh… Adrian totally forced me. Yeah, he forced me; he was tickling the shit-outa-me all this time to, ya know… force me to tell him where we put you!”
“What?!?” Adam cried. On my left, Adrian stared incredulously at me, flabbergasted.
“Adrian caught us not so long ago. We put up a great fight,” I replied.
Yea, I lied. I could’ve perfectly told on Adrian, he who had been so ruthless with me. He would’ve fallen in disgrace and I admit it would’ve been nice to see him humiliated. But Adrian had left no one less than Adam bound and gagged for over two hours. At the moment I couldn’t understand what could’ve possibly made him forget his best friend locked up inside a closet. It was unacceptable if you ask me; we had planned on releasing him soon after we captured all the others, because, imagine the heat, the soreness, the thirst, the growing pain. Adam sure didn’t have a great time in there. And even though I knew it was Adrian’s fault and his only, I didn’t regret having said what I said. All the same, I had no courage to let out what would most certainly produce a deep fissure on a friendship that meaningful. It was just unnecessary and cruel. I had nothing to gain from this. Furthermore, if they got into a fight, the whole group’s games would be jeopardized.
“I-uh…didn’t wanna give out your location cuz I… I thought I… could… uh… trade you with one of us.” I feigned the most innocent grin my improvised acting allowed me.
“But Adrian knew where I was – we were in the same room when you tied me up!” Adam bawled.
“Oh no… he didn’t. You see, he had a blindfold on, and we also put cotton inside his ears. He had no way of knowing you were inside the closet. That’s why he’s been tickling me, I mean us, for over an hour, right Tyler?” I winked at my cousin and he nodded earnestly.
Adam was quite skeptical, but said nothing nonetheless. I went on.
“Hey, if he knew where you were, don’t you think he woulda go getcha right away?”
Finally, the boy pondered about this last question and looked at Adrian, “Is this true?”
Adrian nodded, his eyes almost watery. Adam turned to me.
“You’re sooo dead, Nick.
“Do you have any idea of what is like to be in there?”
“I uh…”
“Of course not, but you bet I’m gonna make sure you do, you little piece of sh-mpph!” He was cut off by Adrian who had quickly reached from behind and forced a piece of bread inside Adam’s mouth.
“Eat up, no time for breakfast, my dad’s waiting for us in the van already.” Adam glared at him, but started chewing the food without protesting, given that he hadn’t had anything to eat so far. Adrian allowed the curly haired boy no gap between the slices and sips of juice, lest he decided to further inquire on the incident. Then, as Chris helped poor Phil on his feet, Mr. Silva appeared through the door with an enthusiastic smile on his face.
“Let’s go, boys! It’s getting late. Take your bags to the car.”
“Yes, dad,” Adrian said.
“Aren’t you going to untie them?” He asked his son.
“Nope. It keeps’em out of trouble,” Adrian explained. His dad seemed to be ok with it, but I was horrified! I sure didn’t relish the prospect of spending most of the day tied. We began to protest but a threat of getting gagged made us stay put and accept our predicament. Plus, they reminded us, we were in no position of demanding anything.
As soon as the car was ready, the boys released us from the chairs and marched us to the garage. To my surprise and relief, it was a van with polarized windows Phil’s father was sitting in; I had been afraid people could see us in what could be mistaken as a kidnapping - or just plain embarrassment - but that worry was blown away when I saw the dark glasses.
They helped Tyler and Adam into the back of the van, and when I was about to get in, Adrian grabbed and led me to the left side of the car, pushed me against it, his hands resting on my shoulders. We remained like that in silence, face to face, for full ten seconds.
“Why did you do it?” he asked in a tone I’d never heard him use before; it was soft and calm, almost tender.
I wanted to tell him I understood how he felt and how sorry he was at the time; that I knew what Adam meant to him; that I was aware of what could’ve happened; that him conserving his friendship was more important for me than some stupid desire of getting even, but I could tell from his thankful look that he already knew all this. So, I just shrugged and grinned.
He squeezed my shoulders, held me closer and gave a quick but warm hug.
“Nick?” he said as we faced each other again.
“Yea?”
“You know that if you ever tell someone I hugged you, I’m gonna kill you, don’t you?”
“I know, Adrian.”
“Good.”
Without more ado, he dragged me towards the back of the van and literally threw me inside.
“The bastard tried to escape!” Adrian said to the other boys and jumped in as he closed the doors. I couldn’t help but laugh at this.
I quickly examined the car: the interior was roomy because there were no seats and we had to sit on the floor where a mattress had been laid for the comfort of our butts. They made us sit next to each other and while we squatted, our wrists were untied temporarily to be brought to the front and retied palm to palm as deftly and snugly as it had been. They made sure the ropes were tight but didn’t cut circulation. This was thrilling to me, as though it was a real kidnap situation!
“It’s going to be a long trip, so we better get you comfy,” Phil said with a sarcastic smirk while I sensed the last loop of rope tighten vertically between my wrists and the remaining piece being lifted up and loosely fastened to a bar above my head.
As I expected, my feet were tied as well. I found myself thinking if this was necessary: it would be impossible to free my hands without assistance and I certainly wasn’t going anywhere with them tied above my head! My doubt was answered when Phil produced a third rope and tied one end to my bound ankles, brought the rope up through the bar, wound it around the wrists a couple of times and knotted it off where my fingers couldn’t reach it. The rope connecting my hands and feet was firm and taut enough so when I pulled my hands down my legs were lifted consequently, which made it an irritating and amusing circumstance. Vainly I tested the bonds just to confirm what I already knew: as I had thought, it was snug, tight, but not painful, which meant I would be tied for as long as the trip lasted.
I was somehow happy to see both Adam and Tyler receiving the same treatment, therefore our chances of getting free were nil. However, I did feel sorry for Adam who got to share our punishment for nothing! He didn’t seem angry now, just calm and apprehensive at what might come. Adam was a more stoic kind of person. When all the captives were tied up nice, the boys said in unison, “We’re ready!” to Mr. Silva who had waited patiently behind the steering wheel.
“Ok, here we go!” I felt the car moving. The windows were deep black, so I had absolutely no idea where we were heading to.
During the first part of the journey we talked, discussed normal subjects and finally Adrian began explaining us what this ‘tying club’ was really about.
It was basically a group of teens who liked to tie and be tied up and who gathered for that purpose. No one was compelled to participate but doing so meant accepting some rules: inflict no physical harm apart from the usual rope burns and struggle bruises, no quitting once the game began, and above all trusting one another. I have to admit it was well organized; we had to contribute monthly with supplies (i.e. ropes, duct tape, hankies, cloth and rags) which would, in turn, be used on ourselves. No official leaders were acknowledged but Adrian and Adam stood out as the founders.
The result of the games doesn’t matter that much, because in any case, someone gets tied up, hence we are never left unsatisfied with the outcome of competition scenarios. It is mainly because of that I’ve played bondage all of these years: it’s a win only situation – if practiced safely. I think most people are not being entirely honest when they claim not having enjoyed either being bound or tying up someone else…
“Could anyone please explain me why I’m still tied up? Don’t you think I’ve had enough of it for today?” My drifting mind was brought back to reality.
“I guess Adam's right. He's not our victim after all; there’s plenty of fun left for these two,” Adrian reflected, jerking a thumb at us, “Tyler n’ Nick are the new guys.”
“Finally!” Adam said.
After his wrist knots were duly undone, Phil left Adam to release his own feet. We watched jealously as he rubbed and stretched his arms and legs; my forearms were starting to ache because of the position they had been the largest part of the morning.
Expecting no more surprises, I was confident they would release us. But boy I was wrong. Adam approached Chris and started whispering something inside his ear. He smiled and turned to Phil who afterwards told Adrian. Overhearing just the word ‘tickle’ made my heart jump. Even though I was not certain, it’s disturbing not knowing what’s going to happen next. I looked at their faces: they all smiled at us sinisterly. A feeling of impending doom fell on me as I realized both of us were only clad in small shorts, which dangerously increased the chances of a tickle torture. It took only one more second to be sure.
“Now!!” Our captors launched their attack. I closed my eyes and tensed my body in anticipation of what would come. But I was stunned to hear Tyler hysterically laughing to my left. My eyes were now fully open and appreciating the whole ordeal with a surge of delight. Adrian, Chris, Adam and Phil had begun a ruthless tickling spree all over Ty’s body. I gasped in awe of the tickling's effects (never underestimate its power).
Adam seemed the wickedest of all, his fingertips dancing on Tyler's taut stomach, ribs and armpits. My cousin burst into fits of giggles writhing around in his bonds but completely incapable of avoiding the searching fingertips. Tyler screamed and pulled and twisted his feet, which were being explored by Phil’s fingers; the rope jerked his wrists up as he moved his feet, stretching even more his skin and revealing his armpits for Chris to tickle.
“Hahahahaaaa! Please, hahahaha, stop!!” Tyler pleaded.
The boy shouted, wiggled and squirmed savagely, but no avail: the knots were all too efficient at giving no slack and neither the assailants showed any signs of compassion. After a few moments of rummaging inside a bag, Adrian pulled out a toothbrush and a shoelace. My cousin’s eyes widened in terror.
“Hahahah,not haha the tooth-haha-brush! Guys, hahaha please! Stooooooop!” The shoelace had already been fastened around his big toes, further restraining his movement. Adrian gently brushed Tyler’s helpless soles with the dental tool. An instant effect spawned from inside his body; I saw how the boy impressively jerked and screamed for freedom, as if a demon had possessed him.
In a matter of minutes, Tyler was covered in sweat. I have to give him some credit; he had weathered it notably well. If I had been in his place I would have by now peed in my shorts! Tears started rolling down his cheeks, so I gathered some courage and spoke out.
“Let him alone, you cowards!”
They all stopped and stared down at me. Our captors hooted with laughter – if not rolled around the floor. I was indignant, but I had spared Ty a good deal of further torture.
“Let me remind you, Nick, that you’re still our prisoners. Can you say you were nicer to me, or to Adrian? Can you?! No, I don’t think so. It’s our revenge. We can do with you whatever we see fit. Besides, now that you're all tied up, there’s nothing you can do about it; it’ll be better if you just sit tight, watch, n’ wait for your turn,” Adam snapped.
“Just wait till we get you! Four against one, you really are a bunch of cowards!” I was not going to let it go that easy. But my stubbornness once again led me to worse conditions.
“OK, you asked for it!” Adrian said and, with his mates’ assistance, he started untying my hands. They were forced behind my back, crossed and bound quite tight – I didn’t even have time to rub my wrists. I was forced to lie face down on the floor, my ankles were untied, my knees were separated and soon I had my feet bound in the same fashion as my wrists. Hands brought my feet up and lashed them there, pulling my arms downwards and arching my back to conclude a hogtie. It was particularly uncomfortable because of the inability of stretching my legs, crossed as they were, and it would be impossible to get up even if I managed to remove the connecting cord. When they were satisfied, they stepped back to admire their handiwork, watching a shirtless fourteen-year-old kid struggle ineffectually against his bonds.
“Well, it’s been nice talking to you but we got up early to kidnap you n’ we’re a lil’ sleepy. Have to save up energy, ya know,” Phil announced.
“And, for my part, I like to sleep without people bothering me. So,” I heard the sound of a strip of duct tape being ripped, “we’re gonna have to use this just in case you think of disturbing us.”
Adam headed to where I was, putting a squash ball inside a sock, followed by Adrian who carried the tape.
“No, Wait! We're not going to tal--mphhhhhh!!!” I was cut off by the bundle shoved into my mouth and temporarily handgagged by Adam.
"That’s right! You're not gonna talk!" Adrian then plastered the sticky silver tape over my mouth as soon as Adam withdrew his hand. He ended by wrapping duct tape around my head several times until my whole lower face was covered with the adhesive material. I wasn’t able to make a sound through the gag no matter how hard I shouted.
Before Tyler could utter a word, two socks were brusquely forced into his mouth. It was tied off with a torn cloth behind his head. He screamed with total might but it all came as a low muffled, “mphhhhhff.”
By that time, they were making all kind of facetious, sniggering comments about our predicament. I had only one thing to fear. I was going to be tickled: I knew it. So I mentally prepared myself, for I am ticklish as hell.
“So, what are we going to do with this one?” Phil asked poking his finger into my ribs and eliciting a giggle.
“Don’t worry, we’ve got sumthing for him later,” Adam answered and ruffled my hair. I was at the same time relieved and apprehensive. Relieved of being spared tickle torture but apprehensive of an even creepier torment that would be brought upon my head.
“Yea, Nick. You’ll get your turn,” Adrian reassured me, patting my cheek.
by Nicholas H.
So there were we, recaptured, both tied to separate chairs in Adrian’s kitchen. The boys had just finished feeding us breakfast.
Between echoing laughter, we discussed the previous events which firstly led to Tyler’s capture and hence mine, in a – very stupid, I have to admit – attempt to rescue him from the basement, where he’d been bound to a post. In the meanwhile, the blond brothers’ father, Mr. da Silva, read the newspaper and seldom laughed about our conversation or muttered an amused remark.
“But there’s still sumthing I can’t figure out. How Phil n’ Adrian got free?” I asked, puzzled.
“Easy,” Chris began. “When I went upstairs, I saw Tyler from behind; he was about to open Phil’s room. I went like, what the heck! That’s way too suspicious, I thought, you know, cuz Adrian had just called me saying he had HIM prisoner! So, I stormed into the room, wrestled Tyler down, tied him up and then untied Phil. You shoulda seen how he drooled from the gag you put him!” he smirked, teasing Phil, before continuing, “All we had to do then was show Tyler sum of our tickle techniques - in no time he told us where Adrian was, and plus, he even gave us the door key.”
I was outraged.
“Tyler, you big-mouth traitor!!” Tyler was lucky enough that my legs were securely bound to the chair, or else his shins would’ve received some nasty kicks beneath the table.
“What was I supposed to do?! I couldn’t stand it any longer,” he said and gave me a “I’m sorry” look. I shook my head in disapproval.
Phil continued, “Then we took Tyler to the basement, tied him up to a pole and took the pic Phil slid under Adrian’s bedroom door.
“I hid in the hallway and waited till you got out. Then I released Adrian.”
“Hang on, there’s no way you could’ve got in - I locked the door and took the key with me!”
Adrian smiled. “Things here don’t work the way you think, Nick; you sure need to hang around with us more often. If you did, you coulda had a small chance at beatin’ us, cuz you’d already know my and Phil’s room have the exact same door lock.” I gaped as Adrian opened his fists, revealing two identical golden keys on his palm.
“This means my bro used the key Tyler handed over to Chris to get inside my room and untie me. Then we bolted downstairs to capture you. Well, you know how it all ended up, don’tcha?” He patted my head, clearly making reference to how they had masterfully crushed our plan and rendered us prisoners; the strategy and deceit of using Tyler as bait while Adrian was released made me wonder if this kid hadn’t received some sort of military training!
When everybody had had enough food to withstand the long trip to the farm, Mr. Silva asked the boys to clear the table, task which we were spared from for obvious reasons. It was only then that I noticed only three boys stood up.
“Hey, where’s Adam?”
No one answered. Their eyes froze wide open; their breathing stopped, a stunned expression swept their faces as they went pale. The boys slowly exchanged that glance, the one that means something is wrong; the glance you give when you forgot to do something very, very important; or more accurately, the one a man on his wedding day would have if he woke up with a hangover - lying on a public toilet seat at 3 in the afternoon.
“Oh shit…,” Adrian turned around to face me and cried, “We forgot Adam inside my closet!”
The three of them instantaneously dashed upstairs. Tyler and I just burst out laughing, almost wetting ourselves since we couldn’t stop it, until we heard them coming back; I twisted my head to glance at a still bound Adam who uttered the wildest imprecations against his chums while they tried to apologize.
“We are soo sorry, Adam,” Adrian said, sounding as regretful as possible.
“It wasn’t on purpose - ”
“Please, Adam, don’t be like this!” The boy continued to trash around and curse loudly.
“We went to getcha right away after we captured Nick and Tyler!”
“What?!” I said. “If I hadn’t asked—mpphhhffff!!” Adrian slapped his hand over my mouth and glared down at me. Then he looked at Tyler across the table, who was about to say something, and menacingly unsheathed a feather from his pocket at him, whispering, “Don’t you dare!”
Tyler, the coward ticklish scoundrel he is, slowly closed his mouth, biting his lower lips in concern of what might happen to him otherwise.
I continued to mmphh as Adam grew more and more furious.
“Calm down, Adam, you know we didn’t forget you!” Chris tried to explain but the kid was absorbed in anger, trying to kick his companions since his hands remained tied in front.
“Chill out man - don’t – wait – ahhhhhhhfffffuccck!!” Adam had succeeded in kneeing Phil, you know where. It was a nasty sight; I even cringed with the blow. As the poor blond boy contorted around the floor, moaning in pain, cupping the affected area with his hands, Adam was seized by the arms and forced to sit on a chair next to me.
“Watch out! Tie him up over there!” Adrian ordered, his palm still firmly pressed against my face as I continued mmppphhing and Phil continued wailing.
“Believe us Adam, for your own safety we’ll have to leave ya like this; we can’t untie you till you’ve cooled off.” It was not a question. Chris further secured Adam’s wrists down to his thighs and the upper body to the back of the chair.
“Untie me right now!”
“Adam, NO,” Adrian countered, half-begging.
“At least I deserve to know the truth!
“Let Nick talk!” Adam growled.
“What? He was just fooling around!” Adrian said, nonchalantly grinning from ear to ear.
“Oh yeah? If he’s got nothing important to tell, why do you have your hand over his mouth?”
A dumb smile remained on Adrian’s face, not knowing how or what to reply. He murmured an apology, but the more he tried to resist the idea he’d been nabbed, the more he realized how useless it was. He sighed. Finger by finger, he un-gagged me and stepped aside, lowering his head, resignedly waiting to take it all.
Adam set his severe gaze on me, eager to erupt in more lava-like obscenities against the boys as soon as I told him what he wanted to hear. And I boasted ecstatically.
“Adrian totally forg…!”
But I couldn’t finish the sentence; I couldn’t help noticing Adrian’s void gaze locked on the floor between his socked feet. The green eyes seemed now so weary, so melancholic and sapped up of whatever striking, fear-provoking power they had possessed minutes before. There was even a gloomy aura around the once buoyant and energetic blond boy, a sole word able to describe his state: sad. And to tell the truth, it was the only moment I ever felt real pity for somebody.
It was a well-known fact among us that Adrian and Adam were like brothers. Friends for as long as they could remember, you almost never saw one of them without the other by his side; they went to the same school, in the same class, and did everything together: soccer, wrestling, swimming, fishing, etc., and tie-up games were no exception. By taking turns at tying each other up during sleepovers, and after having attended some summer camps together, they came up with the idea of a TUG group. The two boys’ first recruit was Adrian’s little brother, Phil, on whom they had occasionally ganged up – and who had no choice whatsoever but to participate. Their dual charm and persuasive skills worked wonders for talking Chris into it, a 14-year-old boy from the soccer team that – they had noticed it - didn’t mind hanging out with younger kids. Now it was to be Tyler and me… To put it briefly, If Adam and Adrian (the AA team) hadn’t gotten along well, I would’ve never had the chance to experiment these – and further - games I’d only dreamed about taking part in. The realization that I owed all this to both of them was the cause that subdued my revenge and forced me to reconsider. I stopped and started over.
“Uh… Adrian totally forced me. Yeah, he forced me; he was tickling the shit-outa-me all this time to, ya know… force me to tell him where we put you!”
“What?!?” Adam cried. On my left, Adrian stared incredulously at me, flabbergasted.
“Adrian caught us not so long ago. We put up a great fight,” I replied.
Yea, I lied. I could’ve perfectly told on Adrian, he who had been so ruthless with me. He would’ve fallen in disgrace and I admit it would’ve been nice to see him humiliated. But Adrian had left no one less than Adam bound and gagged for over two hours. At the moment I couldn’t understand what could’ve possibly made him forget his best friend locked up inside a closet. It was unacceptable if you ask me; we had planned on releasing him soon after we captured all the others, because, imagine the heat, the soreness, the thirst, the growing pain. Adam sure didn’t have a great time in there. And even though I knew it was Adrian’s fault and his only, I didn’t regret having said what I said. All the same, I had no courage to let out what would most certainly produce a deep fissure on a friendship that meaningful. It was just unnecessary and cruel. I had nothing to gain from this. Furthermore, if they got into a fight, the whole group’s games would be jeopardized.
“I-uh…didn’t wanna give out your location cuz I… I thought I… could… uh… trade you with one of us.” I feigned the most innocent grin my improvised acting allowed me.
“But Adrian knew where I was – we were in the same room when you tied me up!” Adam bawled.
“Oh no… he didn’t. You see, he had a blindfold on, and we also put cotton inside his ears. He had no way of knowing you were inside the closet. That’s why he’s been tickling me, I mean us, for over an hour, right Tyler?” I winked at my cousin and he nodded earnestly.
Adam was quite skeptical, but said nothing nonetheless. I went on.
“Hey, if he knew where you were, don’t you think he woulda go getcha right away?”
Finally, the boy pondered about this last question and looked at Adrian, “Is this true?”
Adrian nodded, his eyes almost watery. Adam turned to me.
“You’re sooo dead, Nick.
“Do you have any idea of what is like to be in there?”
“I uh…”
“Of course not, but you bet I’m gonna make sure you do, you little piece of sh-mpph!” He was cut off by Adrian who had quickly reached from behind and forced a piece of bread inside Adam’s mouth.
“Eat up, no time for breakfast, my dad’s waiting for us in the van already.” Adam glared at him, but started chewing the food without protesting, given that he hadn’t had anything to eat so far. Adrian allowed the curly haired boy no gap between the slices and sips of juice, lest he decided to further inquire on the incident. Then, as Chris helped poor Phil on his feet, Mr. Silva appeared through the door with an enthusiastic smile on his face.
“Let’s go, boys! It’s getting late. Take your bags to the car.”
“Yes, dad,” Adrian said.
“Aren’t you going to untie them?” He asked his son.
“Nope. It keeps’em out of trouble,” Adrian explained. His dad seemed to be ok with it, but I was horrified! I sure didn’t relish the prospect of spending most of the day tied. We began to protest but a threat of getting gagged made us stay put and accept our predicament. Plus, they reminded us, we were in no position of demanding anything.
As soon as the car was ready, the boys released us from the chairs and marched us to the garage. To my surprise and relief, it was a van with polarized windows Phil’s father was sitting in; I had been afraid people could see us in what could be mistaken as a kidnapping - or just plain embarrassment - but that worry was blown away when I saw the dark glasses.
They helped Tyler and Adam into the back of the van, and when I was about to get in, Adrian grabbed and led me to the left side of the car, pushed me against it, his hands resting on my shoulders. We remained like that in silence, face to face, for full ten seconds.
“Why did you do it?” he asked in a tone I’d never heard him use before; it was soft and calm, almost tender.
I wanted to tell him I understood how he felt and how sorry he was at the time; that I knew what Adam meant to him; that I was aware of what could’ve happened; that him conserving his friendship was more important for me than some stupid desire of getting even, but I could tell from his thankful look that he already knew all this. So, I just shrugged and grinned.
He squeezed my shoulders, held me closer and gave a quick but warm hug.
“Nick?” he said as we faced each other again.
“Yea?”
“You know that if you ever tell someone I hugged you, I’m gonna kill you, don’t you?”
“I know, Adrian.”
“Good.”
Without more ado, he dragged me towards the back of the van and literally threw me inside.
“The bastard tried to escape!” Adrian said to the other boys and jumped in as he closed the doors. I couldn’t help but laugh at this.
I quickly examined the car: the interior was roomy because there were no seats and we had to sit on the floor where a mattress had been laid for the comfort of our butts. They made us sit next to each other and while we squatted, our wrists were untied temporarily to be brought to the front and retied palm to palm as deftly and snugly as it had been. They made sure the ropes were tight but didn’t cut circulation. This was thrilling to me, as though it was a real kidnap situation!
“It’s going to be a long trip, so we better get you comfy,” Phil said with a sarcastic smirk while I sensed the last loop of rope tighten vertically between my wrists and the remaining piece being lifted up and loosely fastened to a bar above my head.
As I expected, my feet were tied as well. I found myself thinking if this was necessary: it would be impossible to free my hands without assistance and I certainly wasn’t going anywhere with them tied above my head! My doubt was answered when Phil produced a third rope and tied one end to my bound ankles, brought the rope up through the bar, wound it around the wrists a couple of times and knotted it off where my fingers couldn’t reach it. The rope connecting my hands and feet was firm and taut enough so when I pulled my hands down my legs were lifted consequently, which made it an irritating and amusing circumstance. Vainly I tested the bonds just to confirm what I already knew: as I had thought, it was snug, tight, but not painful, which meant I would be tied for as long as the trip lasted.
I was somehow happy to see both Adam and Tyler receiving the same treatment, therefore our chances of getting free were nil. However, I did feel sorry for Adam who got to share our punishment for nothing! He didn’t seem angry now, just calm and apprehensive at what might come. Adam was a more stoic kind of person. When all the captives were tied up nice, the boys said in unison, “We’re ready!” to Mr. Silva who had waited patiently behind the steering wheel.
“Ok, here we go!” I felt the car moving. The windows were deep black, so I had absolutely no idea where we were heading to.
During the first part of the journey we talked, discussed normal subjects and finally Adrian began explaining us what this ‘tying club’ was really about.
It was basically a group of teens who liked to tie and be tied up and who gathered for that purpose. No one was compelled to participate but doing so meant accepting some rules: inflict no physical harm apart from the usual rope burns and struggle bruises, no quitting once the game began, and above all trusting one another. I have to admit it was well organized; we had to contribute monthly with supplies (i.e. ropes, duct tape, hankies, cloth and rags) which would, in turn, be used on ourselves. No official leaders were acknowledged but Adrian and Adam stood out as the founders.
The result of the games doesn’t matter that much, because in any case, someone gets tied up, hence we are never left unsatisfied with the outcome of competition scenarios. It is mainly because of that I’ve played bondage all of these years: it’s a win only situation – if practiced safely. I think most people are not being entirely honest when they claim not having enjoyed either being bound or tying up someone else…
“Could anyone please explain me why I’m still tied up? Don’t you think I’ve had enough of it for today?” My drifting mind was brought back to reality.
“I guess Adam's right. He's not our victim after all; there’s plenty of fun left for these two,” Adrian reflected, jerking a thumb at us, “Tyler n’ Nick are the new guys.”
“Finally!” Adam said.
After his wrist knots were duly undone, Phil left Adam to release his own feet. We watched jealously as he rubbed and stretched his arms and legs; my forearms were starting to ache because of the position they had been the largest part of the morning.
Expecting no more surprises, I was confident they would release us. But boy I was wrong. Adam approached Chris and started whispering something inside his ear. He smiled and turned to Phil who afterwards told Adrian. Overhearing just the word ‘tickle’ made my heart jump. Even though I was not certain, it’s disturbing not knowing what’s going to happen next. I looked at their faces: they all smiled at us sinisterly. A feeling of impending doom fell on me as I realized both of us were only clad in small shorts, which dangerously increased the chances of a tickle torture. It took only one more second to be sure.
“Now!!” Our captors launched their attack. I closed my eyes and tensed my body in anticipation of what would come. But I was stunned to hear Tyler hysterically laughing to my left. My eyes were now fully open and appreciating the whole ordeal with a surge of delight. Adrian, Chris, Adam and Phil had begun a ruthless tickling spree all over Ty’s body. I gasped in awe of the tickling's effects (never underestimate its power).
Adam seemed the wickedest of all, his fingertips dancing on Tyler's taut stomach, ribs and armpits. My cousin burst into fits of giggles writhing around in his bonds but completely incapable of avoiding the searching fingertips. Tyler screamed and pulled and twisted his feet, which were being explored by Phil’s fingers; the rope jerked his wrists up as he moved his feet, stretching even more his skin and revealing his armpits for Chris to tickle.
“Hahahahaaaa! Please, hahahaha, stop!!” Tyler pleaded.
The boy shouted, wiggled and squirmed savagely, but no avail: the knots were all too efficient at giving no slack and neither the assailants showed any signs of compassion. After a few moments of rummaging inside a bag, Adrian pulled out a toothbrush and a shoelace. My cousin’s eyes widened in terror.
“Hahahah,not haha the tooth-haha-brush! Guys, hahaha please! Stooooooop!” The shoelace had already been fastened around his big toes, further restraining his movement. Adrian gently brushed Tyler’s helpless soles with the dental tool. An instant effect spawned from inside his body; I saw how the boy impressively jerked and screamed for freedom, as if a demon had possessed him.
In a matter of minutes, Tyler was covered in sweat. I have to give him some credit; he had weathered it notably well. If I had been in his place I would have by now peed in my shorts! Tears started rolling down his cheeks, so I gathered some courage and spoke out.
“Let him alone, you cowards!”
They all stopped and stared down at me. Our captors hooted with laughter – if not rolled around the floor. I was indignant, but I had spared Ty a good deal of further torture.
“Let me remind you, Nick, that you’re still our prisoners. Can you say you were nicer to me, or to Adrian? Can you?! No, I don’t think so. It’s our revenge. We can do with you whatever we see fit. Besides, now that you're all tied up, there’s nothing you can do about it; it’ll be better if you just sit tight, watch, n’ wait for your turn,” Adam snapped.
“Just wait till we get you! Four against one, you really are a bunch of cowards!” I was not going to let it go that easy. But my stubbornness once again led me to worse conditions.
“OK, you asked for it!” Adrian said and, with his mates’ assistance, he started untying my hands. They were forced behind my back, crossed and bound quite tight – I didn’t even have time to rub my wrists. I was forced to lie face down on the floor, my ankles were untied, my knees were separated and soon I had my feet bound in the same fashion as my wrists. Hands brought my feet up and lashed them there, pulling my arms downwards and arching my back to conclude a hogtie. It was particularly uncomfortable because of the inability of stretching my legs, crossed as they were, and it would be impossible to get up even if I managed to remove the connecting cord. When they were satisfied, they stepped back to admire their handiwork, watching a shirtless fourteen-year-old kid struggle ineffectually against his bonds.
“Well, it’s been nice talking to you but we got up early to kidnap you n’ we’re a lil’ sleepy. Have to save up energy, ya know,” Phil announced.
“And, for my part, I like to sleep without people bothering me. So,” I heard the sound of a strip of duct tape being ripped, “we’re gonna have to use this just in case you think of disturbing us.”
Adam headed to where I was, putting a squash ball inside a sock, followed by Adrian who carried the tape.
“No, Wait! We're not going to tal--mphhhhhh!!!” I was cut off by the bundle shoved into my mouth and temporarily handgagged by Adam.
"That’s right! You're not gonna talk!" Adrian then plastered the sticky silver tape over my mouth as soon as Adam withdrew his hand. He ended by wrapping duct tape around my head several times until my whole lower face was covered with the adhesive material. I wasn’t able to make a sound through the gag no matter how hard I shouted.
Before Tyler could utter a word, two socks were brusquely forced into his mouth. It was tied off with a torn cloth behind his head. He screamed with total might but it all came as a low muffled, “mphhhhhff.”
By that time, they were making all kind of facetious, sniggering comments about our predicament. I had only one thing to fear. I was going to be tickled: I knew it. So I mentally prepared myself, for I am ticklish as hell.
“So, what are we going to do with this one?” Phil asked poking his finger into my ribs and eliciting a giggle.
“Don’t worry, we’ve got sumthing for him later,” Adam answered and ruffled my hair. I was at the same time relieved and apprehensive. Relieved of being spared tickle torture but apprehensive of an even creepier torment that would be brought upon my head.
“Yea, Nick. You’ll get your turn,” Adrian reassured me, patting my cheek.
Another reminder of the old days. Good to have it back.
They all say boxer shorts are cool,
but little Speedos always rule.
but little Speedos always rule.
-
Bondwriter
- Centennial Club
- Posts: 575
- Joined: 6 years ago
Thanks for letting us know there's an interest in Nick's saga. Another episode in the story. Still no pictures.
The Boys' Knotty Summer
by Nicholas H.
Adrian’s Farm – Cowboy Wannabe
I was abruptly awakened by a shaft of light striking my face through the open van door.
“Wake up everyone. Here we are!” Mr. Silva announced while I struggled to keep my eyes open; and as they adapted to sunlight, I tried to yawn. Strangely, I could not open my mouth. Neither was I able to stretch my arms or legs. For a moment, I felt really scared; it was a new thing for me to wake up to realize I'm bound and gagged, practically kidnapped by a bunch of crazy kids eager to torture me. It felt like coming out of the dream world to face a reality just as incredible!
Hogtied, I strained to peer up around. Mr. Silva was gone. Phil, Adam and Chris had just woken up and rested lazily on their backs on the van floor. Tyler continued to sleep, snoring as loudly as always, which debunked another myth that gagging could solve this problem. Adrian, on the other hand, was already up, lacing his boots’ thick black shoelaces.
“Did you rest well, Nick?” he said in a derisive tone. I just grunted and mphhed in response.
“Good!” he replied, chuckling.
When our captors overcame their drowsiness, they started by unfastening Tyler from the bar and released his ankles. I was granted the same partial freedom and then helped on my feet.
As I stepped out, the sunny landscape of Silva’s farm was revealed: an impressive fifty-acre area of rich woodland and pasture distributed in small fenced portions where hundreds of portly purebred cattle grazed. They surrounded a large area which featured a farmhouse, two large dark red wooden barns, an official-sized soccer field and a pool. The forest was located on the east side of the surroundings, endowed with deep undergrowth, shrubs and high trees camouflaging the low cliffs.
“Well, what do ya think ‘bout it?” Phil asked in a strong southern accent.
“Mphhhhhhff.”
“Sorry guys, I forgot,” he said, pushing us rather harshly towards the house, “we’ll show ya around. But first things first: you must be thirsty.”
In the kitchen we were ungagged as promised, but since they kept our hands tied behind our backs, they had to hold the glasses of water to our mouths. Mr. Silva suddenly appeared carrying our bags.
“I am going to leave your belongings in the basement. After you unpack, you boys want to go horse riding?”
“Sure!” We all replied.
Adrian led us downstairs. The basement was a cozy, rather dim bedroom with two columns of three beds each, a sturdy closet and a bathroom. As soon as we descended the stairs, the boys each dashed to one of the beds, claiming it as theirs for the rest of the stay. Despite not being able to use our arms, we ran too, jumping on the two ones left on the far right corner.
Standing on the corridor, against the wall, I noticed a ridiculously big black wooden trunk that said “Houdini” on one side.
“Hey, is that what I think it is for?”
“Yeah. Wanna give it a try?” Phil asked with a mischievous smile.
I immediately regretted my curiosity.
“Not now,” Adrian interrupted as he walked to Tyler and me, “dad’s waiting for us. Turn around.”
We rubbed our wrists as soon as our upper bodies were untied, and after changing into t-shirts, long pants and boots while chatting, we headed outside to the barn. Three horses had already been arranged.
“Can you ride, son?” asked Mr. Silva.
“Yes, sir.” Both Tyler and I were used to this kind of activities.
In a matter of seconds we were up, our feet fast in the stirrups and soon started trotting down the path. All along the ride, Mr. Silva showed us his land, where it started, where it ended, how much livestock they had, etc. To sum it up, it was one hell of a farm.
After two hours, we arrived at what seemed to be a rodeo, got down and entered the arena. A bright sign displayed, “Silva’s Rodeo”. It was an enormous place, full with bleachers and a high iron bar, exactly like I had seen on TV. The place was empty, even though some litter and empty beer bottles amassed in a corner revealed that a show had taken place not long ago.
“Hey! Look what I found.” Adrian had grabbed an 8-meter or so lasso hanging from a post. He started waving it in the air.
“Bad luck we’ve got no calf to practice, bro,” Phil said and smiled.
“No. But there’s always you, bro,” came Adrian’s rejoinder in a defiant tone, their gaze locking at each other. Phil’s face instantaneously switched to panic as he realized the unpleasant scenario his evil brother wished to see him star in.
“Please, - Adrian, no – wait – wait!!!!!!!” Phil pleaded before he started running with all his might.
“Yeah! Go get him!” We started cheering Adrian. It was the classic big-brother-picking-on-little-brother-for-fun thing. I felt a grin spread across my own face as Adrian began the chase, after mercifully granting his sibling a 30-meter lead.
I was full of admiration for Adrian’s speed. In less than a minute, he had caught up with Phil and was already preparing the rope to attack. But he wisely maintained his rhythm, waiting for his prey to get tired and thus enabling him to perform an accurate ‘shot’. It was quite a show!
Then, with what seemed like magic - I’m still trying to figure out how he did it -, Adrian smoothly threw the rope circle one step ahead of Phil’s feet and quickly pulled when it had encircled the right ankle.
The little boy cried as he lost balance and fell hard close from where we stood, dirtying his impeccable white t-shirt on the sandy floor. Before he could react, Adrian reached down, turned Phil on his stomach and lashed his ankles together. Without delay, Adrian forced his brother’s lean arms behind his back; and holding with one hand, he used the remaining length of rope to bind the wrists. It had all been carried out with an astonishing dexterity and smoothness. After completing the hogtie, which I believe was the fastest one I have ever seen, Adrian knotted it off and stood up to grin victoriously at us.
“Whoooa!! Well done!” we said and applauded between gales of mirth as he bowed.
Adrian turned and asked, “Are you okay, bro?”
“Yea -- I think -- so,“ Phil answered, breathing heavily. He struggled and squirmed some just to prove it held and elicit a laugh from his captor.
“No use doin’ that, kiddo. Don’t you know those are a pro’s knots?”
Phil frowned at his brother and sighed, his sweat-damp body resting the little the bonds allowed. We were gathering around Phil making all kind of facetious comments when Mr. Silva spoke.
“Let’s get goin’, boys. It’s getting late and you must be hungry. There’s a good meal waiting for us back at the farm.” That said, Adam, Chris and Tyler mounted on their horses. Adrian and I were about to jump on ours.
“Guys! What about me?” Phil asked from the back.
Adrian turned and smirked ponderingly at him. “He shouldn’t have asked”, I silently told myself.
“You’re my captured lamb, bro. And I’m certainly not letting you go. Well, not yet.” He proceeded to unfasten Phil’s ankles, but tied instead his elbows in the small of his back. Since Phil was a slim flexible kid, his arms were brought and restrained together without much trouble.
“Do you really have to do this, Adrian? Just let me go, please?”
“Could you help me out here, Nick? I really don’t want him whining the whole trip.” Phil’s heart quailed by hearing his brother’s words.
“I won’t say a word, Adrian! I don’t want to be ga-mphhhhfffff…” the pitiful voice was smothered by Adrian’s clamping his hand over Phil’s mouth.
“Get me a stick about 20 centimeters long and I’ll show ya something cool.”
He triggered my curiosity. I found a clean barkless one, but it was excessively long, so I kneed it in half and handed Adrian one piece.
“Perfect! Now, use this,” he motioned a handkerchief he had taken out of his pocket, “to pad it. Just wrap it around few times, ‘cuz we don’t want our little lamb hurting his mouth, do we?
“Mpphhh!!” Phil frowned, visibly upset.
“To secure it we need some shoelaces. Do you mind if we use yours, lil’ bro?” Adrian forced Phil’s head to swing side to side.
“Thank for being such a good sport,” he said ironically and we all laughed.
I squatted down and started unraveling Phil’s shoelaces. With stick and cords in hands, I got up and positioned in front of the handgagged boy.
Adrian suddenly released his hand over Phil’s mouth.
“Open wide!" I said.
The boy reluctantly obeyed and I forced the stick between his teeth, finally tying it in place with the shoelaces.
“This gag is great, you know,” Adrian continued, “’cuz if tied tight enough, talking is impossible!” He grabbed his bro’s chin, moving his head from left to right, inspecting the gag.
“Mpphhhhhh..,” our buddy pleaded; it was effective indeed! The stick kept his jaws very firmly apart, thus disabling him to make a sound!
The gagging over, we helped our pal up the horse; I pushed his butt while Adrian positioned his legs to sit him astride. I mounted just behind him and encircled my arms around him so he wouldn’t fall and I could ride – he couldn’t do it with his hands tied behind him of course!
Tyler shared the horse with my cousin on the way back.
“Where did you learn the stick-gag thing?” Tyler asked.
“Last summer we were exploring the forest and we found a local scout camp. The boy scouts there agreed to play with us,” Chris started explaining.
“It was a basically us against them, nice game but we lost though. We spent many hours prisoners, tied and gagged in many ways,” Adam said.
“We learned it from our own experience, didn’t we Phil?” He nodded in response.
“We were outnumbered then, those cowards! But now we have Nick and Ty with us, so we can challenge them again!” Adrian added.
Boy scouts? Several hours tied-up? What have I got myself into?
***
At the farm, we dismounted and Mr.Silva ordered Adrian to untie his brother. Otherwise, I think he’d had left him there!
“I’ll still get you one day, Adrian!” said Phil noticeably mad as he got untied.
“Yea, right. If you ever manage to tie me up all by yourself, I promise I’ll be your slave for the whole day, Phil. Ha!”
They both knew the chances of a lanky boy submitting a wrestling champion like Adrian were nil, so Phil just made no more comments on his utopian revenge.
We all ate lunch right away. Afterwards, we played some cards and board games until we decided to dispute a soccer match outside. It began as normal, but near the end a few drops started falling with increasing intensity, wind and lightning building up a full-scale storm. In no time, we were soaked; our shirts and shorts clung to our body.
“Dammit! Stupid rain,” I said as I ran for shelter inside the house.
“Yes, it IS raining!” Chris grinned at us.
“All right!” Adam said, visibly excited.
“It’s raining!” Phil repeated blissfully.
Tyler and I looked each other in puzzlement.
“Okay… what is this all about? What happens when it rains, apart from ruining soccer matches?”
“You’ll see – Ha! Ha! Ha! - you’ll see..,” said Adrian with a grin.
TBC
The Boys' Knotty Summer
by Nicholas H.
Adrian’s Farm – Cowboy Wannabe
I was abruptly awakened by a shaft of light striking my face through the open van door.
“Wake up everyone. Here we are!” Mr. Silva announced while I struggled to keep my eyes open; and as they adapted to sunlight, I tried to yawn. Strangely, I could not open my mouth. Neither was I able to stretch my arms or legs. For a moment, I felt really scared; it was a new thing for me to wake up to realize I'm bound and gagged, practically kidnapped by a bunch of crazy kids eager to torture me. It felt like coming out of the dream world to face a reality just as incredible!
Hogtied, I strained to peer up around. Mr. Silva was gone. Phil, Adam and Chris had just woken up and rested lazily on their backs on the van floor. Tyler continued to sleep, snoring as loudly as always, which debunked another myth that gagging could solve this problem. Adrian, on the other hand, was already up, lacing his boots’ thick black shoelaces.
“Did you rest well, Nick?” he said in a derisive tone. I just grunted and mphhed in response.
“Good!” he replied, chuckling.
When our captors overcame their drowsiness, they started by unfastening Tyler from the bar and released his ankles. I was granted the same partial freedom and then helped on my feet.
As I stepped out, the sunny landscape of Silva’s farm was revealed: an impressive fifty-acre area of rich woodland and pasture distributed in small fenced portions where hundreds of portly purebred cattle grazed. They surrounded a large area which featured a farmhouse, two large dark red wooden barns, an official-sized soccer field and a pool. The forest was located on the east side of the surroundings, endowed with deep undergrowth, shrubs and high trees camouflaging the low cliffs.
“Well, what do ya think ‘bout it?” Phil asked in a strong southern accent.
“Mphhhhhhff.”
“Sorry guys, I forgot,” he said, pushing us rather harshly towards the house, “we’ll show ya around. But first things first: you must be thirsty.”
In the kitchen we were ungagged as promised, but since they kept our hands tied behind our backs, they had to hold the glasses of water to our mouths. Mr. Silva suddenly appeared carrying our bags.
“I am going to leave your belongings in the basement. After you unpack, you boys want to go horse riding?”
“Sure!” We all replied.
Adrian led us downstairs. The basement was a cozy, rather dim bedroom with two columns of three beds each, a sturdy closet and a bathroom. As soon as we descended the stairs, the boys each dashed to one of the beds, claiming it as theirs for the rest of the stay. Despite not being able to use our arms, we ran too, jumping on the two ones left on the far right corner.
Standing on the corridor, against the wall, I noticed a ridiculously big black wooden trunk that said “Houdini” on one side.
“Hey, is that what I think it is for?”
“Yeah. Wanna give it a try?” Phil asked with a mischievous smile.
I immediately regretted my curiosity.
“Not now,” Adrian interrupted as he walked to Tyler and me, “dad’s waiting for us. Turn around.”
We rubbed our wrists as soon as our upper bodies were untied, and after changing into t-shirts, long pants and boots while chatting, we headed outside to the barn. Three horses had already been arranged.
“Can you ride, son?” asked Mr. Silva.
“Yes, sir.” Both Tyler and I were used to this kind of activities.
In a matter of seconds we were up, our feet fast in the stirrups and soon started trotting down the path. All along the ride, Mr. Silva showed us his land, where it started, where it ended, how much livestock they had, etc. To sum it up, it was one hell of a farm.
After two hours, we arrived at what seemed to be a rodeo, got down and entered the arena. A bright sign displayed, “Silva’s Rodeo”. It was an enormous place, full with bleachers and a high iron bar, exactly like I had seen on TV. The place was empty, even though some litter and empty beer bottles amassed in a corner revealed that a show had taken place not long ago.
“Hey! Look what I found.” Adrian had grabbed an 8-meter or so lasso hanging from a post. He started waving it in the air.
“Bad luck we’ve got no calf to practice, bro,” Phil said and smiled.
“No. But there’s always you, bro,” came Adrian’s rejoinder in a defiant tone, their gaze locking at each other. Phil’s face instantaneously switched to panic as he realized the unpleasant scenario his evil brother wished to see him star in.
“Please, - Adrian, no – wait – wait!!!!!!!” Phil pleaded before he started running with all his might.
“Yeah! Go get him!” We started cheering Adrian. It was the classic big-brother-picking-on-little-brother-for-fun thing. I felt a grin spread across my own face as Adrian began the chase, after mercifully granting his sibling a 30-meter lead.
I was full of admiration for Adrian’s speed. In less than a minute, he had caught up with Phil and was already preparing the rope to attack. But he wisely maintained his rhythm, waiting for his prey to get tired and thus enabling him to perform an accurate ‘shot’. It was quite a show!
Then, with what seemed like magic - I’m still trying to figure out how he did it -, Adrian smoothly threw the rope circle one step ahead of Phil’s feet and quickly pulled when it had encircled the right ankle.
The little boy cried as he lost balance and fell hard close from where we stood, dirtying his impeccable white t-shirt on the sandy floor. Before he could react, Adrian reached down, turned Phil on his stomach and lashed his ankles together. Without delay, Adrian forced his brother’s lean arms behind his back; and holding with one hand, he used the remaining length of rope to bind the wrists. It had all been carried out with an astonishing dexterity and smoothness. After completing the hogtie, which I believe was the fastest one I have ever seen, Adrian knotted it off and stood up to grin victoriously at us.
“Whoooa!! Well done!” we said and applauded between gales of mirth as he bowed.
Adrian turned and asked, “Are you okay, bro?”
“Yea -- I think -- so,“ Phil answered, breathing heavily. He struggled and squirmed some just to prove it held and elicit a laugh from his captor.
“No use doin’ that, kiddo. Don’t you know those are a pro’s knots?”
Phil frowned at his brother and sighed, his sweat-damp body resting the little the bonds allowed. We were gathering around Phil making all kind of facetious comments when Mr. Silva spoke.
“Let’s get goin’, boys. It’s getting late and you must be hungry. There’s a good meal waiting for us back at the farm.” That said, Adam, Chris and Tyler mounted on their horses. Adrian and I were about to jump on ours.
“Guys! What about me?” Phil asked from the back.
Adrian turned and smirked ponderingly at him. “He shouldn’t have asked”, I silently told myself.
“You’re my captured lamb, bro. And I’m certainly not letting you go. Well, not yet.” He proceeded to unfasten Phil’s ankles, but tied instead his elbows in the small of his back. Since Phil was a slim flexible kid, his arms were brought and restrained together without much trouble.
“Do you really have to do this, Adrian? Just let me go, please?”
“Could you help me out here, Nick? I really don’t want him whining the whole trip.” Phil’s heart quailed by hearing his brother’s words.
“I won’t say a word, Adrian! I don’t want to be ga-mphhhhfffff…” the pitiful voice was smothered by Adrian’s clamping his hand over Phil’s mouth.
“Get me a stick about 20 centimeters long and I’ll show ya something cool.”
He triggered my curiosity. I found a clean barkless one, but it was excessively long, so I kneed it in half and handed Adrian one piece.
“Perfect! Now, use this,” he motioned a handkerchief he had taken out of his pocket, “to pad it. Just wrap it around few times, ‘cuz we don’t want our little lamb hurting his mouth, do we?
“Mpphhh!!” Phil frowned, visibly upset.
“To secure it we need some shoelaces. Do you mind if we use yours, lil’ bro?” Adrian forced Phil’s head to swing side to side.
“Thank for being such a good sport,” he said ironically and we all laughed.
I squatted down and started unraveling Phil’s shoelaces. With stick and cords in hands, I got up and positioned in front of the handgagged boy.
Adrian suddenly released his hand over Phil’s mouth.
“Open wide!" I said.
The boy reluctantly obeyed and I forced the stick between his teeth, finally tying it in place with the shoelaces.
“This gag is great, you know,” Adrian continued, “’cuz if tied tight enough, talking is impossible!” He grabbed his bro’s chin, moving his head from left to right, inspecting the gag.
“Mpphhhhhh..,” our buddy pleaded; it was effective indeed! The stick kept his jaws very firmly apart, thus disabling him to make a sound!
The gagging over, we helped our pal up the horse; I pushed his butt while Adrian positioned his legs to sit him astride. I mounted just behind him and encircled my arms around him so he wouldn’t fall and I could ride – he couldn’t do it with his hands tied behind him of course!
Tyler shared the horse with my cousin on the way back.
“Where did you learn the stick-gag thing?” Tyler asked.
“Last summer we were exploring the forest and we found a local scout camp. The boy scouts there agreed to play with us,” Chris started explaining.
“It was a basically us against them, nice game but we lost though. We spent many hours prisoners, tied and gagged in many ways,” Adam said.
“We learned it from our own experience, didn’t we Phil?” He nodded in response.
“We were outnumbered then, those cowards! But now we have Nick and Ty with us, so we can challenge them again!” Adrian added.
Boy scouts? Several hours tied-up? What have I got myself into?
***
At the farm, we dismounted and Mr.Silva ordered Adrian to untie his brother. Otherwise, I think he’d had left him there!
“I’ll still get you one day, Adrian!” said Phil noticeably mad as he got untied.
“Yea, right. If you ever manage to tie me up all by yourself, I promise I’ll be your slave for the whole day, Phil. Ha!”
They both knew the chances of a lanky boy submitting a wrestling champion like Adrian were nil, so Phil just made no more comments on his utopian revenge.
We all ate lunch right away. Afterwards, we played some cards and board games until we decided to dispute a soccer match outside. It began as normal, but near the end a few drops started falling with increasing intensity, wind and lightning building up a full-scale storm. In no time, we were soaked; our shirts and shorts clung to our body.
“Dammit! Stupid rain,” I said as I ran for shelter inside the house.
“Yes, it IS raining!” Chris grinned at us.
“All right!” Adam said, visibly excited.
“It’s raining!” Phil repeated blissfully.
Tyler and I looked each other in puzzlement.
“Okay… what is this all about? What happens when it rains, apart from ruining soccer matches?”
“You’ll see – Ha! Ha! Ha! - you’ll see..,” said Adrian with a grin.
TBC
-
Tiedtothelife
- Forum Contributer
- Posts: 54
- Joined: 5 years ago
- Location: Guadalajara, México.
Wow, I loved this story. Thanks for bringing her back!
You know what's better than a shirtless boy tied and gagged? A shirtless boy tied and gagged being tickled.
-
Bondwriter
- Centennial Club
- Posts: 575
- Joined: 6 years ago
Hi Tiedtothelife. Glad Nicholas' story brings back memories. One more chapter, then...
The Boys' Knotty Summer
by Nicholas H.
Adrian’s Farm – Hunting In The Dark
After the afternoon’s exhausting soccer match, the five boys and I agreed – actually, our noses told us we needed - to take a shower before going on with our games. Downstairs, Adrian showed us the bathroom, which was located at the far end of the basement: it was huge and completely made of wood, with seven showerheads. Phil then asked who wanted to go first, but Adrian suggested that we did it at the same time since we had enough shower stalls; plus, it would take too long otherwise.
“It’s okay with me.” I sensed a little discomfort from my friends so I added, “Besides, we don’t have anything we haven’t already seen!” We laughed nonchalantly and the tension was broken.
Rinsed and cleaned we returned to the room dressed in boxers or briefs. We put t-shirts and shorts on, Phil and Adrian being the only ones without them. Contrasting the warm water I had just relished, a chill ran through my body from the bare soles of my feet against a cold basement floor; I reached for my socks and shoes, but Chris stopped me,
“Better not wear them, Nick. You wouldn’t want your steps to be heard.” I was puzzled. This couldn’t get weirder! Not knowing was killing me! Nevertheless, I followed his advice and remained barefoot despite the icy floor tiles.
To my surprise, they began pushing all the beds, tables and furniture against the wall. My cousin and I joined in, until there was a big enough area in the center. All windows and doors were closed, letting neither light nor wind enter, imprisoning also any sound within. A dim lantern light in Phil’s hand was the only thing that kept the room illuminated.
“Every time it rains and we can’t go outside, we get down here and play this game; it’s like a ritual to us,” Adam said.
Phil then, after rummaging inside his bag, handed each boy a roll of silver duct tape and a scarf.
“I’ll explain the rules,” started Chris, “since Nick and Tyler are newbies. Actually, there’s only one: try to duct tape every walking thing – in the dark!” he proclaimed with a smile.
“Last man standing wins!” Adam added.
“This is going to be fun,” I said to myself although I had no clue yet how difficult this would prove to be.
“But if we can’t see anything, how do we know when there’s nobody left?” Tyler asked.
“Easy. Each one of you has a scarf. These are to be tied loose around the neck. If you tape someone up, untie it from his neck and keep it. So when someone manages to get all six scarves, it’s over!” Phil replied.
I said I was worried about kicking or stumbling with any of my bound buddies lying on the floor, but Phil quickly added that all people captured must be dragged away from the center, towards the walls, and preferably placed on the beds, in order to prevent accidents.
“You’re all nuts, you know that?” I said with a grin, marveled by the whole idea.
“What? Do you expect us to sit down and play Monopoly instead?” Phil chimed in.
“Nah, I guess not. You’re too weird.”
“Look who’s talking…” he chuckled. I blushed.
“Shut up and get on with it already. I can’t wait to tape you all up.”
“Sure, Nick,” Adrian mocked.
“Okay guys. This is how it’s gonna be: everyone is on his own, no alliances, though I doubt you’ll be able to make out who’s your ally anyway!” We nodded our agreement.
“Now, everyone get to a corner of the room and make sure you find the end of the tape before we turn the lights off,” Adrian ordered.
Adrian positioned himself next to the bathroom, I was to the south, Tyler to the north, Chris to the east, Adam on the stairway and Phil to the west side of the basement.
On my way, I dropped both my scarf and the tape, and lost precious time in picking them up. As soon as I tied the scarf around my neck, I heard five tape-ripping sounds – the signal of the beginning of the game.
I was still nervously tracing the tape roll with my fingernails, when the lantern was switched off and the basement was absorbed by darkness.
“Damn!” I muttered. This was no good start.
Having no strategy at all, I slowly headed forward stretching my arms in front, careful with my steps. I had the roll on the left hand and about two centimeters of peeled tape between thumb and forefinger. After walking a few steps, my knees bumped on a metal structure; it was a bed, so that meant I was next to a wall. I turned and headed to the center, where action would probably be happening.
“Ahhh!!” someone screamed a few meters ahead. I stopped and listened. Two bodies fell on the ground - struggling, I supposed. It was followed by sounds that I clearly recognized as tape being wrapped around body. Then it paused and started again, three times. Hands, feet and mouth, I thought. One down, four to go.
Just as I turned, someone’s fingers touched my back. My heart began pouncing. A pair of arms wrapped my torso, immobilizing the upper part and trying to throw me to the floor. I reacted by squirming savagely but he managed to pin me down on my stomach, pulling my arms behind. Before he could use the tape, I rolled on my back and launched onto my attacker’s chest, both of us falling again hard, me on top of him now. I pinned his forearms to the floor with my knees and used his own roll of duct tape – I had dropped mine in the struggle – to secure his wrists above his head. Without cutting the tape, I forced his hands to his waist and wrapped some more around to attach the boy’s arms against his belly. The taping continued with his lower body, winding turns around his thighs, knees until I got to the ankles, which were restrained as well. It must have taken me about 10 minutes to tape him properly, it’s damn hard to do it in the dark and he didn’t stop squirming! I cut the strip with my teeth and touched my way through the neck where I untied the scarf and felt his face and hair. Because of the curly hair I realized it was Adam. Finally, I gagged and dragged him to a corner. Well, at least I thought it was one! Two down, three left.
At that stage, I was sweating profusely so I took my shirt off, now clad only in my shorts.
A faint distant taping was happening far away from me while I got on my feet. Someone shouted in pain. Then steps approached with an amazing speed: he was running in a completely darkened room! Was he mad? He could easily fall and get hurt!
I was taken aback when the running boy crashed into me, tackling both of us to the ground.
“Mphhhhhhff!!”
I fell on my back; my friend rested on my chest. It was strange because I felt his breath on my neck and he was not moving at all. It took me a while to react; I quickly pushed him off to one side expecting an attack, but nothing happened. He just fell like a sack of potatoes next to me, so I traced up his body. I learnt he was tightly gagged; his wrists were taped behind his back and judging by his lean hairless legs and the small smooth face with disheveled hair, I assumed it was Phil. Yes, definitely. The boy was trying somehow to get up or roll away but I held him.
“Sorry kid,” I whispered in his ear as I removed his scarf; three hung around my neck now. Phil was breathing heavily and sweat covered his body, due to previous wrestling. I decided to take care of the little fellow, adding more tape. It was hard, but squirming was all he could do when I was finished. I had further restricted the youngest boy by wrapping tape around his chest and arms. His thighs, knees and ankles were also secured. Summing up, there was no chance Phil could get free by himself. I you’ve used duct tape before, you know how snug it is once well stretched around your limbs.
“Too easy so far,” I silently said to myself.
Once again, I carried my captive to a side but all of a sudden I heard muffled sound behind me, towards east, like someone was being handgagged. Then the tape, several turns were being used on a poor boy. I waited expectantly for the end, until the sound of dragging came to my ears: the fourth boy had been captured. Now it was just another boy and me. Who it was I did not know, for I had only recognized Adam and Phil. It could be any of the remaining kids: either Adrian, Chris or Tyler. It was extremely thrilling. What a rush of adrenaline did this game produce!
I jumped on my feet and walked in the direction of the recent assault. When I reached it – or at least thought I was there – I felt a breath on my right foot. “The captured boy,” I thought. Therefore, I squatted to know who it was. Using my hand to explore his face and hair I concluded it was Adrian because of his spiked hair and smooth skin. But I was a little surprised though. He was not an easy boy to catch, being a wrestler and all.
And I was right to be suspicious.
A hand unexpectedly grabbed my arm and pulled me hard to the ground.
Before I could react he overpowered me by turning me on my stomach with a knee on my back. Adrian sat on my butt and twisted my hand up while winding sticky duct tape around it and securing it to the other wrist palm to palm. My feet and knees were thoroughly bound as well. I let him tie me up with resignation - resisting was pointless at this point. Plus, I did wish to experience what he had in mind for me!
“Oh man, I tricked you good!” Adrian said.
I was such a fool! He had lain on the floor pretending to be tied up so when I reached down, unprepared, he attacked me!
Adrian helped me on my feet. I thought he’d steal my scarves already, but he kept on taping me! He began wrapping duct tape from my shoulders to my feet, tightening each turn and using three rolls for it. Every inch of my lean body was being covered with tape as he went down, especially over my hands and fingers. I was mummified! I squirmed and writhed trying to escape but the tape was snug and gave no slack. All I could do was to wiggle my toes! Adrian then reached feeling for my face, my mouth, and sealed my lips by wrapping sticky silver tape several times around my head.
“Thanks Nick. I have six scarves now!” Adrian said while he unknotted them from my neck.
“Mphhhhhhhhh!” I replied furiously. So close to victory…
I heard him getting away and about a minute after, the lights was turned on. It was an amazing sight: all my mates tightly taped – some on the floor, others lying on beds. Tyler, whose eyes were adapting to light, had been kind of hogtied. Chris had his wrists taped around a pole. Adam and Phil were just as I thought I had tied them.
“Wow, someone certainly enjoyed it. Didn’t you, little bro?” he said with a smile that caused Phil to blush deeply. Phil, only wearing his boxers, lay on his back showing a slight bulge.
“Well, as you can see, I won!” We all mphhhed loudly.
“Don’t worry, I’ll untie you!” he said and put an arm around my shoulders.
“Just not yet.”
Still standing, I was afraid I’d lose balance and fall but he laid me on the ground. Adrian then left us to struggle against our bonds, proud of having made us captive.
“The prize, of course, is that I get to tickle all of you!” he announced to our detriment. Naturally, we shook our heads, pleading not to be tortured, but it was all pointless - Adrian wasn’t exactly the type of boy you’d expect to show mercy. I don’t think he even knew the meaning of the word at all!
He took his time, attacking each victim for about five minutes with everything he got; and thus we remained until he eventually decided to release us. No one ended injured. However, the tape did HURT when it was unwrapped and I thanked God hair hadn’t grown on my legs yet.
The game over, around 7pm, we dashed upstairs to assault the refrigerator. We watched a lame horror flick afterwards and then decided to play another round of what I call “Hunting In the Dark” before going to sleep. And you know what? I won that time!
TBC
The Boys' Knotty Summer
by Nicholas H.
Adrian’s Farm – Hunting In The Dark
After the afternoon’s exhausting soccer match, the five boys and I agreed – actually, our noses told us we needed - to take a shower before going on with our games. Downstairs, Adrian showed us the bathroom, which was located at the far end of the basement: it was huge and completely made of wood, with seven showerheads. Phil then asked who wanted to go first, but Adrian suggested that we did it at the same time since we had enough shower stalls; plus, it would take too long otherwise.
“It’s okay with me.” I sensed a little discomfort from my friends so I added, “Besides, we don’t have anything we haven’t already seen!” We laughed nonchalantly and the tension was broken.
Rinsed and cleaned we returned to the room dressed in boxers or briefs. We put t-shirts and shorts on, Phil and Adrian being the only ones without them. Contrasting the warm water I had just relished, a chill ran through my body from the bare soles of my feet against a cold basement floor; I reached for my socks and shoes, but Chris stopped me,
“Better not wear them, Nick. You wouldn’t want your steps to be heard.” I was puzzled. This couldn’t get weirder! Not knowing was killing me! Nevertheless, I followed his advice and remained barefoot despite the icy floor tiles.
To my surprise, they began pushing all the beds, tables and furniture against the wall. My cousin and I joined in, until there was a big enough area in the center. All windows and doors were closed, letting neither light nor wind enter, imprisoning also any sound within. A dim lantern light in Phil’s hand was the only thing that kept the room illuminated.
“Every time it rains and we can’t go outside, we get down here and play this game; it’s like a ritual to us,” Adam said.
Phil then, after rummaging inside his bag, handed each boy a roll of silver duct tape and a scarf.
“I’ll explain the rules,” started Chris, “since Nick and Tyler are newbies. Actually, there’s only one: try to duct tape every walking thing – in the dark!” he proclaimed with a smile.
“Last man standing wins!” Adam added.
“This is going to be fun,” I said to myself although I had no clue yet how difficult this would prove to be.
“But if we can’t see anything, how do we know when there’s nobody left?” Tyler asked.
“Easy. Each one of you has a scarf. These are to be tied loose around the neck. If you tape someone up, untie it from his neck and keep it. So when someone manages to get all six scarves, it’s over!” Phil replied.
I said I was worried about kicking or stumbling with any of my bound buddies lying on the floor, but Phil quickly added that all people captured must be dragged away from the center, towards the walls, and preferably placed on the beds, in order to prevent accidents.
“You’re all nuts, you know that?” I said with a grin, marveled by the whole idea.
“What? Do you expect us to sit down and play Monopoly instead?” Phil chimed in.
“Nah, I guess not. You’re too weird.”
“Look who’s talking…” he chuckled. I blushed.
“Shut up and get on with it already. I can’t wait to tape you all up.”
“Sure, Nick,” Adrian mocked.
“Okay guys. This is how it’s gonna be: everyone is on his own, no alliances, though I doubt you’ll be able to make out who’s your ally anyway!” We nodded our agreement.
“Now, everyone get to a corner of the room and make sure you find the end of the tape before we turn the lights off,” Adrian ordered.
Adrian positioned himself next to the bathroom, I was to the south, Tyler to the north, Chris to the east, Adam on the stairway and Phil to the west side of the basement.
On my way, I dropped both my scarf and the tape, and lost precious time in picking them up. As soon as I tied the scarf around my neck, I heard five tape-ripping sounds – the signal of the beginning of the game.
I was still nervously tracing the tape roll with my fingernails, when the lantern was switched off and the basement was absorbed by darkness.
“Damn!” I muttered. This was no good start.
Having no strategy at all, I slowly headed forward stretching my arms in front, careful with my steps. I had the roll on the left hand and about two centimeters of peeled tape between thumb and forefinger. After walking a few steps, my knees bumped on a metal structure; it was a bed, so that meant I was next to a wall. I turned and headed to the center, where action would probably be happening.
“Ahhh!!” someone screamed a few meters ahead. I stopped and listened. Two bodies fell on the ground - struggling, I supposed. It was followed by sounds that I clearly recognized as tape being wrapped around body. Then it paused and started again, three times. Hands, feet and mouth, I thought. One down, four to go.
Just as I turned, someone’s fingers touched my back. My heart began pouncing. A pair of arms wrapped my torso, immobilizing the upper part and trying to throw me to the floor. I reacted by squirming savagely but he managed to pin me down on my stomach, pulling my arms behind. Before he could use the tape, I rolled on my back and launched onto my attacker’s chest, both of us falling again hard, me on top of him now. I pinned his forearms to the floor with my knees and used his own roll of duct tape – I had dropped mine in the struggle – to secure his wrists above his head. Without cutting the tape, I forced his hands to his waist and wrapped some more around to attach the boy’s arms against his belly. The taping continued with his lower body, winding turns around his thighs, knees until I got to the ankles, which were restrained as well. It must have taken me about 10 minutes to tape him properly, it’s damn hard to do it in the dark and he didn’t stop squirming! I cut the strip with my teeth and touched my way through the neck where I untied the scarf and felt his face and hair. Because of the curly hair I realized it was Adam. Finally, I gagged and dragged him to a corner. Well, at least I thought it was one! Two down, three left.
At that stage, I was sweating profusely so I took my shirt off, now clad only in my shorts.
A faint distant taping was happening far away from me while I got on my feet. Someone shouted in pain. Then steps approached with an amazing speed: he was running in a completely darkened room! Was he mad? He could easily fall and get hurt!
I was taken aback when the running boy crashed into me, tackling both of us to the ground.
“Mphhhhhhff!!”
I fell on my back; my friend rested on my chest. It was strange because I felt his breath on my neck and he was not moving at all. It took me a while to react; I quickly pushed him off to one side expecting an attack, but nothing happened. He just fell like a sack of potatoes next to me, so I traced up his body. I learnt he was tightly gagged; his wrists were taped behind his back and judging by his lean hairless legs and the small smooth face with disheveled hair, I assumed it was Phil. Yes, definitely. The boy was trying somehow to get up or roll away but I held him.
“Sorry kid,” I whispered in his ear as I removed his scarf; three hung around my neck now. Phil was breathing heavily and sweat covered his body, due to previous wrestling. I decided to take care of the little fellow, adding more tape. It was hard, but squirming was all he could do when I was finished. I had further restricted the youngest boy by wrapping tape around his chest and arms. His thighs, knees and ankles were also secured. Summing up, there was no chance Phil could get free by himself. I you’ve used duct tape before, you know how snug it is once well stretched around your limbs.
“Too easy so far,” I silently said to myself.
Once again, I carried my captive to a side but all of a sudden I heard muffled sound behind me, towards east, like someone was being handgagged. Then the tape, several turns were being used on a poor boy. I waited expectantly for the end, until the sound of dragging came to my ears: the fourth boy had been captured. Now it was just another boy and me. Who it was I did not know, for I had only recognized Adam and Phil. It could be any of the remaining kids: either Adrian, Chris or Tyler. It was extremely thrilling. What a rush of adrenaline did this game produce!
I jumped on my feet and walked in the direction of the recent assault. When I reached it – or at least thought I was there – I felt a breath on my right foot. “The captured boy,” I thought. Therefore, I squatted to know who it was. Using my hand to explore his face and hair I concluded it was Adrian because of his spiked hair and smooth skin. But I was a little surprised though. He was not an easy boy to catch, being a wrestler and all.
And I was right to be suspicious.
A hand unexpectedly grabbed my arm and pulled me hard to the ground.
Before I could react he overpowered me by turning me on my stomach with a knee on my back. Adrian sat on my butt and twisted my hand up while winding sticky duct tape around it and securing it to the other wrist palm to palm. My feet and knees were thoroughly bound as well. I let him tie me up with resignation - resisting was pointless at this point. Plus, I did wish to experience what he had in mind for me!
“Oh man, I tricked you good!” Adrian said.
I was such a fool! He had lain on the floor pretending to be tied up so when I reached down, unprepared, he attacked me!
Adrian helped me on my feet. I thought he’d steal my scarves already, but he kept on taping me! He began wrapping duct tape from my shoulders to my feet, tightening each turn and using three rolls for it. Every inch of my lean body was being covered with tape as he went down, especially over my hands and fingers. I was mummified! I squirmed and writhed trying to escape but the tape was snug and gave no slack. All I could do was to wiggle my toes! Adrian then reached feeling for my face, my mouth, and sealed my lips by wrapping sticky silver tape several times around my head.
“Thanks Nick. I have six scarves now!” Adrian said while he unknotted them from my neck.
“Mphhhhhhhhh!” I replied furiously. So close to victory…
I heard him getting away and about a minute after, the lights was turned on. It was an amazing sight: all my mates tightly taped – some on the floor, others lying on beds. Tyler, whose eyes were adapting to light, had been kind of hogtied. Chris had his wrists taped around a pole. Adam and Phil were just as I thought I had tied them.
“Wow, someone certainly enjoyed it. Didn’t you, little bro?” he said with a smile that caused Phil to blush deeply. Phil, only wearing his boxers, lay on his back showing a slight bulge.
“Well, as you can see, I won!” We all mphhhed loudly.
“Don’t worry, I’ll untie you!” he said and put an arm around my shoulders.
“Just not yet.”
Still standing, I was afraid I’d lose balance and fall but he laid me on the ground. Adrian then left us to struggle against our bonds, proud of having made us captive.
“The prize, of course, is that I get to tickle all of you!” he announced to our detriment. Naturally, we shook our heads, pleading not to be tortured, but it was all pointless - Adrian wasn’t exactly the type of boy you’d expect to show mercy. I don’t think he even knew the meaning of the word at all!
He took his time, attacking each victim for about five minutes with everything he got; and thus we remained until he eventually decided to release us. No one ended injured. However, the tape did HURT when it was unwrapped and I thanked God hair hadn’t grown on my legs yet.
The game over, around 7pm, we dashed upstairs to assault the refrigerator. We watched a lame horror flick afterwards and then decided to play another round of what I call “Hunting In the Dark” before going to sleep. And you know what? I won that time!
TBC
-
Bondwriter
- Centennial Club
- Posts: 575
- Joined: 6 years ago
A promise is a promise!
by Nicholas H.
Propped on one elbow, I gazed through the darkness of the basement and hopelessly tried to recognize the noise that had awakened me. During an entire minute, without daring to move, I strained my ears and stared at pitch-dark room before my breathing eased; ever since Adrian attacked us while sleeping at Tyler’s house, my mind turned any kind of strange sound into a tie up scheme being carried out. Just to know Tyler was still there, I stretched my arm towards the bed on my right and felt his shoulder. On the other side, I was able to touch Chris. They were all there, asleep. No reason to freak out.
I chuckled. I’m getting paranoid.
Once my “tie-dar” returned to normality, I yawned my worries away, turned on my back and pulled the blanket up, drifting myself back to happier, sweeter dreams.
I had barely closed my eyes when I heard it again, this time closer, its echo chiming back in my inner ear! It’d be an understatement to say I just panicked - I almost choked with my heart jumping up my throat!
There were things to worry about!, I realized. All around me lies a bunch of crazy kids who just want a chance to tie each other up. To tie ME up!
And all of a sudden, before I could react, a hand clamped down firmly over my mouth. “Not again…!” I said with a complaining tone but since my head was pinned against the pillow by his hand, thus effectively closing my lips, it came nothing more than faint ‘mphhhs’ through his fingers. I began struggling, but he had already jumped on my chest and placed a knee on each of my upper arms, further holding me down to the bed. My hands were of no use. I was already expecting loops of rope tighten around my wrists, but instead, the assailant, with his warm right hand still firmly over my lips, passed his left arm under my head, around my neck; he leaned down, his cheek almost touching mine, and whispered in my right ear,
“Shhhh… Calm down, Nick. All I need is a witness.” Boy, that really stunned me! Of course I was relieved to learn I wasn’t going to be tied up, but it was puzzling what Phil – I had recognized his childlike voice – wanted from me. Therefore, I kept still and heard what he had to say.
“Look, I want revenge,” said Phil before he paused to take a breath, “my brother totally humiliated me yesterday, twice, and I’m gonna tie him up. He said he’d do whatever I want if I could capture him. And you bet I’ll get him.
“I need you to come with me and witness I did it all by myself. Okay?” I hesitated for a moment.
“Please?” His begging made me feel pity: I knew this would be the only way he could possibly do it. Adrian was much stronger and skilled; the little lean boy had neither the strength nor the guts to fight his big brother in normal circumstances.
“Mmphh mphhmm…” I nodded the best I could, my head still well secured between his arms.
“Thanks,” he said with a grateful blink and removed his hand.
“Wow, you have me really pinned down here. I can’t move at all!” I said, careful not to raise my voice.
“Well, when you have a brother who thinks you are his wrestling puppet to practice new moves everyday, you sure learn some stuff, whether you want it or not!” he whispered with a smile. I laughed.
“Wasn’t it simpler just to ask?”
“Nah, I like this way better and – “
“Yeah, I know: ‘kidnapping is more fun’. Jeez, you are just like your brother.” He laughed back at me.
For a moment it seemed that Phil took me for a very comfortable stool.
“So… can you get off me now?”
“Oh, sure. Sorry.”
We both stood and he lit a little lantern.
“This way,” he motioned illuminating a spot. Soon, on the other side of the room, we reached a single bed where a shirtless Adrian lay on his back - a perfect position.
“There’s nothing to worry about. One thing I know for sure is that my brother sleeps like a rock,” Phil pointed out. Without more ado, Phil gently lifted the boy’s lean arms, while I assisted with the lantern, and he held them by the wrists above Adrian’s head. He proceeded to cross and bind them (an impressive knot work I must say) using a long coil of rope he had taken out of his pocket, then leashing to the head post, exposing Adrian’s bare ribs, armpits and belly. The captor had the blanket removed – so his legs could be tied – and when I passed the light on them, I learned Adrian had also no shorts on. Funny, they even wore the same clothing in bed, a simple pair of boxers; but I quickly dismissed the idea of Phil being one of those pesky little brats who look up to their older sibling’s and want to become their clones. No chance. Not if Adrian is your older brother.
Next, Phil resorted to another length of rope which was used to tie Adrian’s ankles in parallel, first horizontal loops and then vertical ones, and finally cinched so the rope tightened around them. Like his hands, Adrian’s feet were lashed and secured to the lower post of the bed.
During the whole ordeal, I did nothing but hold the lantern and witness with delight the way my blond friend was snugly bound.
I was amazed by how someone could sleep through that. And what’s even worse, to have your extremities moved and tied without even feeling a thing! Fortunately - or not -, I’ve never had the chance of waking up to find myself bound, for even sounds as loud as a whisper interrupt my sleep.
I’ve got to say it, for the record – or just in case Adrian reads this: Phil did all the work. I swear over… uh… the Flying Spaghetti Monster! (sorry, I couldn’t resist). Honestly. He knew everything that was to be done in order to effectively immobilize his brother. When he was satisfied and had re-checked the knots, the small boy approached, proud of his deed, and said,
“Okay, I’m done. Let’s wake him up.” I sat on the bed next to Adrian and focused the light straight on his closed eyes, something you all know is extremely irritating. He did not respond, so I shook him gently and whispered,
“Adrian…Adrian…C’mon, wake up.” The boy wetted his lips as he opened them, and yawned,
“Wots the matter?” He got no reply, so Adrian opened his eyes.
“Hey! Put that thing away from my face-” He suddenly stopped. Adrian had tried to cover himself with his hand but he sensed a jerk from above his head. Again the boy pulled, seemingly not knowing what was happening, why his arms weren’t responding, and struggled against the ropes. But Phil proved having done an outstanding job; the bonds kept Adrian’s body stretched and despite all the twisting the captive was making, the cord gave no slack. Eventually he realized, just lay still, and said obviously annoyed,
“Haha. Very funny Nick.”
I smiled. “Don’t look at me! I had nothing to do with this”, I said and paused, “he forced me to come here!” I moved my head where Phil was. The boy stepped out of the shadows, revealing himself to his captive who had now a “what the hell?!” expression on his face.
“Yeah bro. It’s me,” Phil said.
“Remember that little promise you made? No? Can’t remember? That one where you’d be my slave if I could tie you up? Well, there you are!”
“No way! That’s not fair, I was sleeping!” Adrian whined.
“It doesn’t matter, Adrian. I saw it, he did it all by himself.” I shrugged with a smirk and the bound boy stared fiercely at us.
“And what if I just don’t accept it?” Adrian cunningly claimed.
“But you’ll have to, dear brother,” Phil answered patting his cheek, “or I‘ll be forced to wake them up.” He waved a hand across the room full of boys.
“And I’m sure they’ll be extremely happy to get a chance to take good vengeance for what you did to them last night. Maybe they’ll tickle you to death, or just until your underwear changes colors, depending on their mood.” Phil ran a finger down his brother’s taut skin, eliciting angry giggles. He then smiled triumphantly.
Check mate. I was deeply impressed by how Phil had planned this beforehand, splendidly trapping his prey by blocking all possible means of escape! – only resignation left. He had waited for the perfect moment to attack, when everyone was against Adrian, where he had to choose between serving his brother or a much crueler fate. Humiliation or pain. And the fear of the unknown is what people are most afraid of.
Adrian pondered for a long while, exchanging glances with his brother, but he knew there was no escape.
“Do I really have to do this?”
“Oh yeah.”
“Come on, Phil. You’re my little brother, how can you do this to me?” For a second I almost felt sorry for him – almost! Phil did not utter a word. Adrian, turning to me with pleading green eyes, he whispered,
“Nick?”
“Sorry. A promise is a promise,” I answered. Adrian’s heart sank and he heaved a sigh of resignation.
“All right… I’ll do it.”
A big grin appeared on the small boy’s smooth face and didn’t go away, such was his happiness from getting his brother at last. Only then did I realize how bad Phil wanted this, possibly a huge desire of just retribution for all these accumulated years of powerlessness. I could see it in his eyes, which glimmered in excitement, and by the way he had talked, carefully choosing the words to menace his prisoner with. I would’ve not been surprised if he started doing a choreographically rehearsed victory dance.
“Only if you promise not to-mppppphhhhffff!” Adrian never finished. Phil cut him off and unceremoniously shoved a large wadded cloth deep inside the poor boy’s mouth. A line of cloth was forced between Adrian’s teeth and tied off sufficiently tight behind his head. My blond friend almost couldn’t make a sound through his gag.
“You must be tired Adrian, we’ll let you sleep. I’m gonna leave you like this because I don’t want my little slave going nowhere while I rest. Okay?”
Adrian just whimpered and mphhhed in response.
“Don’t worry, we’ll wake you up for breakfast,” Phil said.
Adrian’s look was like, “yea, thanks.”
Because of the way Adrian was tied, he could only remain all stretched up, which was quite uncomfortable. I had to hold myself not to brush my fingers over his exposed taut tanned skin; his body was asking to be tickled! We watched Adrian squirm and writhe furiously, but to no avail. I shook my head at him, an unspoken advice not to struggle, for it would only make it worse. I patted his chest for good luck and stood up.
We started walking again towards my side of the room. It must have been around 3 am, so as drowsy as I was all I wanted was to lie in bed and get some rest. Phil illuminated the way.
“I wanted to thank you Nick. I wouldn’t have done it without you.”
“No problem. Anytime you want,” I answered, laughing at the silliness of what I had just said.
“But there’s one thing left…,” he began.
“What?”
I whirled too late, a knee on my back pinned me hard on the bed, while a hand powerfully twisted my right wrist behind my back and another one silenced me.
“You’re still my kidnapped boy,” he whispered.
Then Phil – hereinafter the Traitor - went on taking off my socks, and I could already feel the dirty wad in my mouth, but instead of gagging me with them, he inserted each one of my hands into one of the long wool garments. I was puzzled by this unexpected new use, but I should have known better; these boys knew what they were doing when it came to securing someone and keeping them that way. I squirmed and wiggled trying to escape, but Phil’s grip held. My wrists were crossed and he began winding turns of rope firmly around them, allowing no precious slack for struggling. When he was finished, I understood the purpose of the socks. I could not flex my fingers! The socks were pulled down and throttled by the rope at the wrists, therefore my hands were useless and no matter where he had tied the knot off, it was impossible for me to pick it with my fingers. The advantage, however, was that my skin wouldn’t get the usual red rope burns being padded like this. Phil did not intend to secure only my arms, and advanced to tie my feet in an exact manner, opening my knees wide apart and rising the legs. This would invariably lead to a hogtie, which proved to be truthful when a third coil’s end was tied at the wrists and the other at the ankles. It arched my back a little and the ropes were tight, yet it didn’t hurt or cut off circulation. At this stage - and after being tied up enough times by these kids-, I knew struggling was as fruitful as wishing Zorro came to my rescue.
“I’m so sorry Nick, but I can’t risk my brother being freed. You’re the only one, for the moment, who knows about it. I couldn’t sleep knowing there’s someone that can untie Adrian,” said Phil somehow apologizing. When he had me trussed up nice and was sure I wouldn’t escape without assistance, he leaned down and whispered,
“Because you helped me, and well… I’m also short of gag supplies, I’m not gagging you.” I heaved a sigh of relief.
“But if you make one sound, any kind of sound at all, I swear I’ll gag you with my underwear if I have to,” snapped Phil. “I’m not losing Adrian… Good night.” He covered me with the blanket and walked away, as I heard the footsteps fade and the lantern turn off.
I could understand his irresistible desire to subdue his brother, but Phil had gone absolutely insane! He even betrayed me, that little rat, after I helped him do it. On the other hand, I concluded I would have probably done the same thing if I were him.
Moral of the story: watch out for pissed off little brothers. No matter how much of a wimp you think they are, they’ll find a way to get you back (and above all don’t make things easier for them by making stupid promises you’ll regret afterwards).
I got as comfortable as I could, resting my head on the pillow, tried to forget I was hogtied, and in a few minutes was dead to the world.
TBC
by Nicholas H.
Propped on one elbow, I gazed through the darkness of the basement and hopelessly tried to recognize the noise that had awakened me. During an entire minute, without daring to move, I strained my ears and stared at pitch-dark room before my breathing eased; ever since Adrian attacked us while sleeping at Tyler’s house, my mind turned any kind of strange sound into a tie up scheme being carried out. Just to know Tyler was still there, I stretched my arm towards the bed on my right and felt his shoulder. On the other side, I was able to touch Chris. They were all there, asleep. No reason to freak out.
I chuckled. I’m getting paranoid.
Once my “tie-dar” returned to normality, I yawned my worries away, turned on my back and pulled the blanket up, drifting myself back to happier, sweeter dreams.
I had barely closed my eyes when I heard it again, this time closer, its echo chiming back in my inner ear! It’d be an understatement to say I just panicked - I almost choked with my heart jumping up my throat!
There were things to worry about!, I realized. All around me lies a bunch of crazy kids who just want a chance to tie each other up. To tie ME up!
And all of a sudden, before I could react, a hand clamped down firmly over my mouth. “Not again…!” I said with a complaining tone but since my head was pinned against the pillow by his hand, thus effectively closing my lips, it came nothing more than faint ‘mphhhs’ through his fingers. I began struggling, but he had already jumped on my chest and placed a knee on each of my upper arms, further holding me down to the bed. My hands were of no use. I was already expecting loops of rope tighten around my wrists, but instead, the assailant, with his warm right hand still firmly over my lips, passed his left arm under my head, around my neck; he leaned down, his cheek almost touching mine, and whispered in my right ear,
“Shhhh… Calm down, Nick. All I need is a witness.” Boy, that really stunned me! Of course I was relieved to learn I wasn’t going to be tied up, but it was puzzling what Phil – I had recognized his childlike voice – wanted from me. Therefore, I kept still and heard what he had to say.
“Look, I want revenge,” said Phil before he paused to take a breath, “my brother totally humiliated me yesterday, twice, and I’m gonna tie him up. He said he’d do whatever I want if I could capture him. And you bet I’ll get him.
“I need you to come with me and witness I did it all by myself. Okay?” I hesitated for a moment.
“Please?” His begging made me feel pity: I knew this would be the only way he could possibly do it. Adrian was much stronger and skilled; the little lean boy had neither the strength nor the guts to fight his big brother in normal circumstances.
“Mmphh mphhmm…” I nodded the best I could, my head still well secured between his arms.
“Thanks,” he said with a grateful blink and removed his hand.
“Wow, you have me really pinned down here. I can’t move at all!” I said, careful not to raise my voice.
“Well, when you have a brother who thinks you are his wrestling puppet to practice new moves everyday, you sure learn some stuff, whether you want it or not!” he whispered with a smile. I laughed.
“Wasn’t it simpler just to ask?”
“Nah, I like this way better and – “
“Yeah, I know: ‘kidnapping is more fun’. Jeez, you are just like your brother.” He laughed back at me.
For a moment it seemed that Phil took me for a very comfortable stool.
“So… can you get off me now?”
“Oh, sure. Sorry.”
We both stood and he lit a little lantern.
“This way,” he motioned illuminating a spot. Soon, on the other side of the room, we reached a single bed where a shirtless Adrian lay on his back - a perfect position.
“There’s nothing to worry about. One thing I know for sure is that my brother sleeps like a rock,” Phil pointed out. Without more ado, Phil gently lifted the boy’s lean arms, while I assisted with the lantern, and he held them by the wrists above Adrian’s head. He proceeded to cross and bind them (an impressive knot work I must say) using a long coil of rope he had taken out of his pocket, then leashing to the head post, exposing Adrian’s bare ribs, armpits and belly. The captor had the blanket removed – so his legs could be tied – and when I passed the light on them, I learned Adrian had also no shorts on. Funny, they even wore the same clothing in bed, a simple pair of boxers; but I quickly dismissed the idea of Phil being one of those pesky little brats who look up to their older sibling’s and want to become their clones. No chance. Not if Adrian is your older brother.
Next, Phil resorted to another length of rope which was used to tie Adrian’s ankles in parallel, first horizontal loops and then vertical ones, and finally cinched so the rope tightened around them. Like his hands, Adrian’s feet were lashed and secured to the lower post of the bed.
During the whole ordeal, I did nothing but hold the lantern and witness with delight the way my blond friend was snugly bound.
I was amazed by how someone could sleep through that. And what’s even worse, to have your extremities moved and tied without even feeling a thing! Fortunately - or not -, I’ve never had the chance of waking up to find myself bound, for even sounds as loud as a whisper interrupt my sleep.
I’ve got to say it, for the record – or just in case Adrian reads this: Phil did all the work. I swear over… uh… the Flying Spaghetti Monster! (sorry, I couldn’t resist). Honestly. He knew everything that was to be done in order to effectively immobilize his brother. When he was satisfied and had re-checked the knots, the small boy approached, proud of his deed, and said,
“Okay, I’m done. Let’s wake him up.” I sat on the bed next to Adrian and focused the light straight on his closed eyes, something you all know is extremely irritating. He did not respond, so I shook him gently and whispered,
“Adrian…Adrian…C’mon, wake up.” The boy wetted his lips as he opened them, and yawned,
“Wots the matter?” He got no reply, so Adrian opened his eyes.
“Hey! Put that thing away from my face-” He suddenly stopped. Adrian had tried to cover himself with his hand but he sensed a jerk from above his head. Again the boy pulled, seemingly not knowing what was happening, why his arms weren’t responding, and struggled against the ropes. But Phil proved having done an outstanding job; the bonds kept Adrian’s body stretched and despite all the twisting the captive was making, the cord gave no slack. Eventually he realized, just lay still, and said obviously annoyed,
“Haha. Very funny Nick.”
I smiled. “Don’t look at me! I had nothing to do with this”, I said and paused, “he forced me to come here!” I moved my head where Phil was. The boy stepped out of the shadows, revealing himself to his captive who had now a “what the hell?!” expression on his face.
“Yeah bro. It’s me,” Phil said.
“Remember that little promise you made? No? Can’t remember? That one where you’d be my slave if I could tie you up? Well, there you are!”
“No way! That’s not fair, I was sleeping!” Adrian whined.
“It doesn’t matter, Adrian. I saw it, he did it all by himself.” I shrugged with a smirk and the bound boy stared fiercely at us.
“And what if I just don’t accept it?” Adrian cunningly claimed.
“But you’ll have to, dear brother,” Phil answered patting his cheek, “or I‘ll be forced to wake them up.” He waved a hand across the room full of boys.
“And I’m sure they’ll be extremely happy to get a chance to take good vengeance for what you did to them last night. Maybe they’ll tickle you to death, or just until your underwear changes colors, depending on their mood.” Phil ran a finger down his brother’s taut skin, eliciting angry giggles. He then smiled triumphantly.
Check mate. I was deeply impressed by how Phil had planned this beforehand, splendidly trapping his prey by blocking all possible means of escape! – only resignation left. He had waited for the perfect moment to attack, when everyone was against Adrian, where he had to choose between serving his brother or a much crueler fate. Humiliation or pain. And the fear of the unknown is what people are most afraid of.
Adrian pondered for a long while, exchanging glances with his brother, but he knew there was no escape.
“Do I really have to do this?”
“Oh yeah.”
“Come on, Phil. You’re my little brother, how can you do this to me?” For a second I almost felt sorry for him – almost! Phil did not utter a word. Adrian, turning to me with pleading green eyes, he whispered,
“Nick?”
“Sorry. A promise is a promise,” I answered. Adrian’s heart sank and he heaved a sigh of resignation.
“All right… I’ll do it.”
A big grin appeared on the small boy’s smooth face and didn’t go away, such was his happiness from getting his brother at last. Only then did I realize how bad Phil wanted this, possibly a huge desire of just retribution for all these accumulated years of powerlessness. I could see it in his eyes, which glimmered in excitement, and by the way he had talked, carefully choosing the words to menace his prisoner with. I would’ve not been surprised if he started doing a choreographically rehearsed victory dance.
“Only if you promise not to-mppppphhhhffff!” Adrian never finished. Phil cut him off and unceremoniously shoved a large wadded cloth deep inside the poor boy’s mouth. A line of cloth was forced between Adrian’s teeth and tied off sufficiently tight behind his head. My blond friend almost couldn’t make a sound through his gag.
“You must be tired Adrian, we’ll let you sleep. I’m gonna leave you like this because I don’t want my little slave going nowhere while I rest. Okay?”
Adrian just whimpered and mphhhed in response.
“Don’t worry, we’ll wake you up for breakfast,” Phil said.
Adrian’s look was like, “yea, thanks.”
Because of the way Adrian was tied, he could only remain all stretched up, which was quite uncomfortable. I had to hold myself not to brush my fingers over his exposed taut tanned skin; his body was asking to be tickled! We watched Adrian squirm and writhe furiously, but to no avail. I shook my head at him, an unspoken advice not to struggle, for it would only make it worse. I patted his chest for good luck and stood up.
We started walking again towards my side of the room. It must have been around 3 am, so as drowsy as I was all I wanted was to lie in bed and get some rest. Phil illuminated the way.
“I wanted to thank you Nick. I wouldn’t have done it without you.”
“No problem. Anytime you want,” I answered, laughing at the silliness of what I had just said.
“But there’s one thing left…,” he began.
“What?”
I whirled too late, a knee on my back pinned me hard on the bed, while a hand powerfully twisted my right wrist behind my back and another one silenced me.
“You’re still my kidnapped boy,” he whispered.
Then Phil – hereinafter the Traitor - went on taking off my socks, and I could already feel the dirty wad in my mouth, but instead of gagging me with them, he inserted each one of my hands into one of the long wool garments. I was puzzled by this unexpected new use, but I should have known better; these boys knew what they were doing when it came to securing someone and keeping them that way. I squirmed and wiggled trying to escape, but Phil’s grip held. My wrists were crossed and he began winding turns of rope firmly around them, allowing no precious slack for struggling. When he was finished, I understood the purpose of the socks. I could not flex my fingers! The socks were pulled down and throttled by the rope at the wrists, therefore my hands were useless and no matter where he had tied the knot off, it was impossible for me to pick it with my fingers. The advantage, however, was that my skin wouldn’t get the usual red rope burns being padded like this. Phil did not intend to secure only my arms, and advanced to tie my feet in an exact manner, opening my knees wide apart and rising the legs. This would invariably lead to a hogtie, which proved to be truthful when a third coil’s end was tied at the wrists and the other at the ankles. It arched my back a little and the ropes were tight, yet it didn’t hurt or cut off circulation. At this stage - and after being tied up enough times by these kids-, I knew struggling was as fruitful as wishing Zorro came to my rescue.
“I’m so sorry Nick, but I can’t risk my brother being freed. You’re the only one, for the moment, who knows about it. I couldn’t sleep knowing there’s someone that can untie Adrian,” said Phil somehow apologizing. When he had me trussed up nice and was sure I wouldn’t escape without assistance, he leaned down and whispered,
“Because you helped me, and well… I’m also short of gag supplies, I’m not gagging you.” I heaved a sigh of relief.
“But if you make one sound, any kind of sound at all, I swear I’ll gag you with my underwear if I have to,” snapped Phil. “I’m not losing Adrian… Good night.” He covered me with the blanket and walked away, as I heard the footsteps fade and the lantern turn off.
I could understand his irresistible desire to subdue his brother, but Phil had gone absolutely insane! He even betrayed me, that little rat, after I helped him do it. On the other hand, I concluded I would have probably done the same thing if I were him.
Moral of the story: watch out for pissed off little brothers. No matter how much of a wimp you think they are, they’ll find a way to get you back (and above all don’t make things easier for them by making stupid promises you’ll regret afterwards).
I got as comfortable as I could, resting my head on the pillow, tried to forget I was hogtied, and in a few minutes was dead to the world.
TBC
-
bondagefreak
- Honorary Member
- Posts: 5503
- Joined: 6 years ago
- Location: Québec
- Contact:
Anyone else routing for that underwear gag? 
[mention]Bondwriter[/mention] Great stuff, as usual!
[mention]Bondwriter[/mention] Great stuff, as usual!
-
Bondwriter
- Centennial Club
- Posts: 575
- Joined: 6 years ago
You'll see what happens, I'll give no spoiler, Bondagefreak...
Meeting the Scouts
by Nicholas H.
At some late hour, and for the second occasion that night, I woke up with the feeling of a hand pressed over my mouth. There was no point in screaming anyway, being all tied up, I wanted to inform Phil when his blurred figure became distinguishable in the dark; but his reaction to my mumbling was that prickly little smile of his, cunning, subtle, as though he knew exactly what I meant - and simply didn’t care.
“Just checking on you,” he whispered. “Everything okay?”
Although most of what I’ve written so far depicts rough treatment and recklessness when it came to capturing someone, we were actually more careful than whatever precipitated conclusion you might’ve already drawn. We did take care after each other. For example, it was mandatory among us to ensure the prisoners’ well-being from time to time. That is, to ask them if the tie-ups or gags were unnecessarily strenuous, a routine even more expected and counted on if they were to stay bound for a long period. Therefore, when Phil returned to check on me, I duly tested my bonds by struggling a bit, and having found no numbness in my limbs, I nodded. Lying in order to gain some slack and escape afterwards was out of question; it was considered most unclassy, the lowest kind of cheating and could mean the loss of the privilege in future captures. It wasn’t worth it. Besides, I was not like I wasn’t enjoying being comfortably hogtied as I was, on one side, my hands warm and sticky inside those socks, the fingers clutched in unyielding fists.
Phil then started pushing, dragging my bound body to one side of the bed.
“What on earth are you up to now?!” I said.
“Hey! Remember what I said I’d gag you with if you didn’t keep quiet?” he snapped.
This is amazing, I thought. This kid’s like 2 years younger and is playing the tough guy on me! If my arms were free, I sure would’ve beaten the crap out of the little brat. But I really didn’t have much of a choice at that point and wasn’t very sure I wanted some filthy underwear going inside my mouth (I knew he wouldn’t do it, but I played along by staying quiet).
“I brought you company so you don’t feel too lonely,” he said as he pulled someone by the arms, amused by his own words. Through the shafts of light coming from the little lantern Phil carried, I could see Adam, shirtless – the cloth was between his teeth – facing me with his wrists bound in rope.
“Adam here was on his way to the bathroom,” Phil explained. “To his bad luck, it happens to be just next to Adrian’s bed and was about to see something he shouldn’t. You can figure out the rest…”
I almost burst out laughing. I pictured Adam feeling his way through the dark room to take an urgent leak, when all of a sudden a shadow jumped, quickly yanked his t-shirt off, silenced him with it and wrapped rope around his hands. I wished I could have seen the look on Adam’s face then.
“Yea, he still doesn’t know what the hell’s going on!” Phil chuckled.
Without further ado, the blond assailant laid his new prisoner on his stomach right beside me and secured his ankles. Phil then lashed Adam’s hands to the left head post, and before he went any further, he turned me on my stomach, too, the hogtie exerting its pressure on my back. I felt the loops around my hands being loosened and my shirt removed. This gave me some scarce seconds to rub my wrists a bit – he didn’t let me remove the socks though - before Phil forced them up, above my head.
Phil then came up with an idea that made it creepy to dare imagine how much time he really spent devising his weird schemes: he passed my left arm in between Adam’s bound ones and tied my crossed wrists together, pulling the loose end and tying it off at the right head post. We were locked in a chain of arms! Stunned, we both struggled. It didn’t take me long to assess the precious advantage of this “trick”. He could have thus two boys on a bed with their hands tied to the right and the left head posts separately, and none of them would be able to reach any knots, because all efforts either boy could do to reach the post securing his own piece of rope pulled the other linked boy, who was in turn securely tied to the opposite side! We couldn’t budge from the centre of the bed! It was impossible to move to either side, as our movements were smartly limited by a balanced rope tension. And our bound hands were too far away from each other, picking each other’s wrists’ knots no longer an option.
You’re wrong if you think – as I naively thought too at the time - he was going to leave us just like that. No, not Phil; he simply loved to stop a moment before resuming the tying, so the prisoners thought he was done and started squirming, only to find out there was more to come.
He did the same chain thing with our legs, bringing our bodies even closer. Next, he grabbed two more coils, which he used on our tied ankles to link our feet to our respective head posts, leaving our bent hairless legs dangling in the air. Yes, you’re right, and our four bare soles as exposed and vulnerable as a duck in a pond during hunting season. But thankfully, Phil wasn’t much of a tickler. Instead, he pursued deeper psychological torture: he checked every loop, tightened every turn and knot, while slipping piercing devious comments and remarks, thus shattering any escaping hopes we might have borne until then.
We squirmed in vain. His rope-work was too good. Even better than Adrian’s.
“Phil,” I said, “where on earth did you learn to tie li-mpph!” He took me by surprise from behind and stuffed a wadded cloth between my teeth.
“Here you go! I told you I’d do it, Nick! Thank me I didn’t keep my full promise and it’s just one of Adam’s socks,” Phil said, holding out the other sock, so nicely and devoid of sarcasm one could’ve actually considered thanking him!
I trashed and bucked, trying to spit the disgusting garment as I felt the taste spreading inside, but he had already used my folded t-shirt to hold it in place; when he reached down to knot it off at my nape, smiling, he whispered in my ear, “Don’t worry Nick, it ain’t Adam’s socks either. Just another hankie.”
He winked and opened his fist, revealing both socks. I sighed, relieved, and did my best to smile back. It was obvious he had pretended to look tough in front of my captive fellow.
Phil finished by placing pillows under our heads.
“Don’t worry guys, you won’t be like this for long,” he said as he got up and prepared to leave, “dawn is coming in an hour and I’ll set you free to eat breakfast… If you stay quiet.”
Adam and I immediately stopped whimpering; we sure didn’t relish the prospect of remaining like this for the entire morning! It was okay while it was dark, but when the sun rose the basement would get warmer and soon we’d be covered in sweat – not to mention I was only wearing my blue briefs and it’d be sooo humiliating.
With that he crept away, leaving us to ponder our predicament and the increasing but manageable ache in our limbs. In a small single bed like the one we lay on, there was barely enough place for the both of us and we had to huddle together if we wanted to avoid the risk of falling. Adam and I had implicitly agreed with a glance at each other that there was pretty much nothing we could do to try to free ourselves, so we resigned to relax – well, as much as we could - and drift to sleep to the sounds of the forest and its animals coming from outside.
***
Summing up, as you may have noticed, our club was based on a highly motivational objective: vengeance. If a friend tied me up I’d certainly tie him up afterwards; if he tickled me some, I’d tickle him twice as much. It could continue like this for days, on and on in an endless vicious circle of tying each other for ego candies. We all knew in our hearts that when you tied someone you’d get without doubt the same treatment or worse – and that’s probably the main reason why we did it in the first place! Give a bunch of vengeful boys some coils of rope and that’s what you get. No hard feelings or resentment ever came as a result of our games, though. The vengeful lust, for us, was a mere deliberate pretext to have our buddies all tangled up.
In the midst of the most pleasurable dreams, someone began shaking my shoulders in short pushes. Very annoying short pushes.
“Nick…”
“Nick…”
“Nicholas…” I heard the voice whisper but didn’t pay attention nor did I bother to open my eyes, only murmured a couple of words which were smothered by the gag.
“Nick…” once again came to my ears. Then the poking started. One. Two. Three. Four…
Goddamit! I’m trying to get some sleep here! Can’t they wake someone up like normal people?
That was the THIRD time I was being bothered on a single night and I had the right to be pissed off. First, Phil with his crazy plan to tie Adrian which ended up with me in the same condition; then, surprise, surprise! It’s hi-let’s-tie-you-up-some-more-and-gag-you-while-we’re-at-it Phil again.
Now, I’ve had it. There’s no way I’m gonna interrupt my nap.
All of a sudden, a pair of fingers wildly plunged into my sides, attacking with relentless vigor the well-known ticklish spots that drove me wild. Berserk. Absolutely crazy. Even the sore parts of my body were hit by the nervous impulses that flowed viciously from my ribs. Fully awake, I thrashed all I could in a frantic struggle, trying to avoid the intolerable searching fingertips.
“Mphhhhhhhff!”
“Now that I finally have your attention…,” Phil said, producing a broad grin. “I hope you love birds enjoyed your time together, but my dad’s calling us for breakfast,” the boy said.
With all the writhing I had done, Adam woke up and was glaring at our captor as furiously as I was. We had already been sweating profusely, and side to side, our skins stuck to each other’s.
“Mphhh mmmphh mppphff?” Are you going to untie us or what? I grunted, twisting my hands.
“Ok, ok, stay put, it’s gonna take some time to tackle these knots, cuz,” he didn’t resist adding, “you now, I’m so good at tying them.”
Phil proceeded to unravel the ropes and tackle the knots that deprived us of our liberty – but I knew, however, hadn’t it been for Mr. Silva, Phil would have been most glad to leave us like that.
The lights were turned on. Our jaws recovered some motion when he took our gags off. We soothed our dry throats by guzzling from a couple of water bottles Phil had brought.
“I want to know… glu-glu… I have the right to know what the hell did you tie me up for!” Adam demanded, who was still clueless as to why he’d been involved in all this.
Phil laughed, “Sorry, Adam, you were at the wrong place at the wrong time! Chill, I’ll tell you all about it.”
While Phil went on with his explanation, I finished untying my ankles; he had used a good ten miles of rope on us. When I turned my head sideways, I was amazed to see we hadn’t been the only ones to spend the night trussed up like turkeys: Tyler lay gagged and hand-bound on his bed, but he continued to sleep - hardly surprising -, a white sock inserted inside his mouth and another one tied around his head.
“So he got tied up too?” I asked Phil and jerked a thumb at Tyler.
“I had nothing to do with that one. He was already like that when I came to wake you up.” I shrugged.
Adam and I headed to the bathroom and took a shower. When we came back, Chris was up and caught in an enthusiastic conversation with Phil.
“Hey Nick, Adam, did you sleep well?” Chris bloated. “Hahahaha!”
“Yeah, very funny…” I replied.
“I don’t really care that much, Chris,” Adam said, “cuz Phil knows we’ll get him sometime; then we’ll settle things out.” He finished with a smirk.
“Oh, c’mon Adam… I’ve got nothing against you. I had to do it!” Phil tried to apologize, perhaps regretting to have an erstwhile prisoner now wanting to put him in god-knows-what of a predicament. Adam was evidently enraged, so he shrugged off the reconciliation offer as he had heard nothing and started putting on a pair of worn jeans.
“Hey Chris, how come Tyler’s tied up?”
“Well, your dear cousin here,” he said pointing at Tyler, “is one hell of a snorer. I couldn’t sleep, of course. I tried to wake him up and he never did, so, you see, I fixed it!” I laughed wholeheartedly and then went on to release Tyler. After some soft slapping and tickling, he passed to a less zombie state and began to yawn and rub his eyes.
When we had all used the bathroom, Phil suggested right away that we go upstairs and have breakfast.
Red in the face, “I’ll be with you in a sec. I have to untie my prisoner, er, brother,” Phil explained.
Food? No need to ask twice. We headed to the kitchen, where a maid ushered us to the dining room. I stood stupefied for a few seconds, gaping at the biggest table I’d ever seen. It was made of a huge single 50-meter linoleum tree trunk cut in half, its elegant, shiny, polished brown-bark gradually degrading inner-wise, on which a meticulous map titled “Silva’s Farm” had been hand-carved all over. It was so staggeringly gigantic that I remember thinking they must have rather built the house around the table, since I saw no possible way of getting that either in or out!
“Yea, it’s always like this the first time you see it,” said Chris, who had seemingly by then spent many a holidays there.
It took us 2 minutes to get to the other end of the table (i.e. the other end of the room) where our meal had been already served: everything one could’ve dreamed of having for breakfast in a farm - and with no adults around, we devoured the food as its suiting animals.
As I stuffed myself with yet another slice of a peculiarly exquisite fresh cheese, Adrian, followed by his younger brother, appeared through the door. The blond boy had his upper body wrapped in a generous amount of the soft cotton rope our group was so particularly fond of, encircling his arms, chest, and pinioning his hands to his navel. Phil marched him to a chair while Adrian uttered the wildest imprecations against his captor.
“Sorry for the delay but I had to help him brush his teeth and all that,” Phil said. Excluding Adrian, we broke into boisterous laughter and resumed our meal.
For the rest of the morning and part of the afternoon we played soccer, the activity we enjoyed the most, apart from tie-up games of course. Phil allowed his “slave” to play under one condition: his wrists had to remain tied behind his back.
“No problem. I’ll still beat you,” Adrian defied.
And surprisingly, he did! Adrian scored 3 goals, whereas Phil only scored once.
***
Later in the afternoon, we cooled down under a massive tangerine tree, engaging in sporadic free-for-all grass wrestling, bored out of our minds. Phil had Adrian inescapably pinned under his legs for what it looked like the first time ever.
“I got you, bro!” he said, elated, as though he’d beaten a wrestling champ.
“Uh… he does have his hands tied behind his back, you know,” Tyler said.
Phil spun around.
“Don’t be such a spoiler!” he protested.
“Yeah, let my lil’ bro have some fun while he can,” Adrian retorted, “cuz he knows he really doesn’t stand a chance.”
Phil turned back to look down at Adrian, who, despite his position, was sneering at him.
“And you, don’t be such a smart mouth!” he said and clamped his hand over Adrian’s lips.
Annoyed by all this melodramatic comedy, I asked, “Hey, why don’t we go find those boy scouts you were yakking so much about yesterday?”
“Well, we don’t know if they’re around in the first place,” Adrian said once he’d been ungagged.
“Oh, they are,” Phil barged in, “cuz I saw one of their posters in the rodeo, recruiting new scouts for their camping out week.
“ Haha, and it said ‘come join the wonderful scouting experience’, hahaha.” He rolled around on the grass, laughing his ass off.
“And??”
“It’s like… so gay!” Phil said, rolling around in laughter.
“So gay that they kicked your asses and left you tied up for hours?” I said.
Phil now grew serious.
“We were outnumbered,” sentenced Adrian, matter-of-fact.
“Yea, they were just lucky, that’s all! We’re much better than them,” Phil defensively exclaimed. “Whose side are you on anyway, Nick?!”
“Hey! Drop it, you two,” Chris interrupted. “Let’s get back inside to get ready if we really wanna win: sleeping bags, ropes, hankies, tape, the usual stuff… Plus, we need a pretty good plan this time.”
We all nodded. Except Adrian, who sounded somewhat apprehensive.
“You mean, like now?? It’s already getting dark… and… cold… why don’t we go tomorrow?” he asked. It amazed me that Adrian was actually chickening out! There was no trace whatsoever of his ingrained macho attitude.
“No. You do as I say, slave. And yes, we’re going now!” Phil sentenced in a solemn tone, delighted to be able to force his brother against his will.
“But…”
“No ‘buts’. Move!”
Phil helped Adrian on his feet and roughly pushed him towards the house, much to our amusement. We followed them.
I reduced my pace and approached Adam, who I knew to be Adrian’s best friend, and asked him what was wrong.
“With Adrian? He doesn’t want the scouts to find out his little brother tied him up!”
***
Before leaving, we told Mr. Silva we were going to meet the scouts. Since Mr. Silva had an arrangement with the local troop, by which he allowed them to camp in his property, he knew exactly where to find us in case of an emergency.
“But a REAL emergency, dad. Please don’t show up unless you really have to,” Phil pleaded.
“Agreed. I would never do anything that could embarrass you boys in front of your friends, anyways.”
“Sure.” Adrian’s voice carried a ton of sarcasm. When asked, the boys later revealed their dad was some sort of dental hygiene freak – he’d lost all of his teeth during a poverty-stricken childhood – to the point he once judged imperiously necessary to track both of his kids down in the middle of a manhunt game just because they’d left their toothbrushes at home.
“Do you have your teeth material with you? Dental floss?”
“Yes, dad.”
“Let me see them.” They opened their bags.
“Good. Remember, behind and up, right in that spot where the food-”
“Dad…”
“I’m embarrassing you already, aren’t I?”
“Yes.”
“Sorry,” he said with an apologetic smile.
“Can we go now?” Phil said.
“Sure! Take care and have fun, boys.”
Once we were out of sight, Phil ordered Adrian to cross his hands behind his back.
“Do you really have to?”
“Yep.”
“Can’t we make a truce until the game is over? I’ll let you tie me up as much as you want then.”
“Yea, as if I could trust a word you say!” Without further discussion, for Phil was known to be as stubborn as a mule, he wrapped and cinched the rope around his brother’s wrists, leaving a loose end as a leash he’d held on to during the whole journey as if his life depended on it.
Both of them led the way. They knew the forest all too well in its full extension; this was their realms and it was a certain relief to know we wouldn’t be in disadvantage regarding field reconnaissance. Within an hour, we reached a clearing among the high pine trees and shrubs, where a couple of tents had been settled and several boys clad in brownish uniforms were gathered around a campfire. They all looked up when we entered through the open path. One of them, who seemed to be the eldest, stood and with a smile on his face, greeted us.
“Adrian!” the boy said. He was taller than the rest and bore a strong physical figure. I assumed he was about 15.
“Mike,” Adrian said.
It was as if two generals were presenting themselves previous to a battle - almost comical.
“Sorry I can’t shake your hand – I’ll explain it to you later -,” he said airily before pausing and went on, “Nice to see you again.”
“Same thing. So, what brings you down here? I see you have two more friends with you,” said Mike with a jerk of his head that swung his blond hair clear of his eyes.
“I’m Nick and this is my cousin Tyler,” I said and shook hands.
“We want to give it a try again, Mike,” Adrian stated, “your patrol against my team.”
“Adrian, Adrian buddy. Wasn’t it enough last summer? Aren’t you and your friends ever going to learn? You can’t beat us!
“In the end, how many hours we kept you tied up? Five, six? Haha. I’m starting to think you only come here because you like to be punished so much.” This kid was even more arrogant than Adrian. And Adrian could make Napoleon seem rather meek.
“So you’re not gonna play? Is that what you’re saying?” Adrian defied him now, the building tension thick enough to cut with a knife (how cheesy, but true).
“Of course we are! We’re gonna show you who rules in this forest. Aren’t we guys?”
“Yeah!!!” The group of boy scouts replied.
“We’ll see that,” came Adrian’s rejoinder.
“Only there’s a problem,” Mike said, “there are ten of us and you’re only six.”
“That’s no problem at all. We like challenges,” Adrian said. We counted on our swiftness and strength rather than number to win.
“But we’ll do this in the morning. It’s getting late now and my troop’s a bit tired.
“We’re gonna lend you a tent for the night so you don’t have to go home and come back again tomorrow,” Mike concluded.
We looked at each other hesitatingly; this sudden hospitality was too good to be genuine. We hadn’t planned on this. In fact, we’d brought the sleeping bags to spend the night “on the wild”, at a reasonable distance from the lion’s den.
“What? Do you think we’re going to launch some sort of coward attack on you while you sleep?!”
“Well, yea,” Adrian answered. “Let’s do this: I’ll take one of your scouts prisoner as a guarantee.”
Mike thought for a while, turned to one of the older boys who nodded his assent.
“Fair enough. But, you’ll have to give us one of your teammates too.”
“I’ll do it!” In sheer impulse, I had raised my hand and eagerly shouted. Everyone was looking at me now, some even taken aback and raising eyebrows.
“Well… if that’s okay with you, of course…,” I added promptly and lowered my head, as though they would be able to tell through my eyes that being the boy scouts’s captive had become a very appealing idea to me – though I didn’t know yet precisely why.
Adam grabbed me by the shoulder and took me some meters away. He stared me right into the eyes and said,
“Nick, we don’t have a clue what they’re going to do with you. Based on what I got to see from these guys last summer, it’s not going to be very nice. Are you sure you want to do this?”
In my mind, one phrase appeared: “more than anything on this world” but instead of committing social suicide, I came up with all sorts of excuses: that this way I could spy on them, that I’d get a chance to overhear their strategies, the whereabouts of their hiding spots, and blablabla. I talked him into letting me be the one; because of the promise, Adrian had to remain with Phil, they wouldn’t trust Chris or Adam, but a nice newbie like me to torture was perfect.
Adam stared at me, dumbfounded. “You really like this, don’t you?” he whispered and winked at me. My rather eloquent answer was to blush. We returned to the boys who’d been patiently waiting.
“Okay, we’re gonna do it. Nicholas here’s joining you to make sure we, too, won’t try anything funny,” Adrian announced.
“Great. Rob, my little bro, is going to be your insurance policy.” With that said, a small red-haired boy stepped to the front.
“It’s all settled then,” Mike said. “Next point: dinner. Please let’s get something to eat. After working all day in that workshop, I feel I could eat a freaking horse!”
As we headed to the “kitchen”, Mike put an arm around Adrian’s shoulder and asked,
“Now, tell me. How come are you tied up like this?”
“Well, it’s a long story…”
***
After the terms of the game were arranged, they set our tent as promised right next to theirs and due to the increasingly hot weather, we all agreed upon taking a quick dip in the nearby creek. Guided by the moonlight we returned to camp, where a big bonfire crackled and a surprise stew – we could only imagine what it contained - simmered in an oversize casserole.
On the ground, I saw two shirtless boys staked out and gagged, a sight that days ago, before our games had commenced, would’ve shocked me. Now, I simply asked a kid I had just met called Collin,
“Why are they like that?”
“Uhh… to keep them out of trouble.”
I shrugged. (What? It was a perfectly logic explanation!)
Soon the whole group, more or less 20 kids, sat on the logs around the fire, enjoying our meal and chatting. When we decided it was bedtime, Adrian, Adam, Tyler, Chris, Phil and I walked to our tent.
I was about to get in when Mike grabbed me and said,
“Nick, where do you think you’re going? You come with us now.” I had completely forgotten I would be sleeping with the scouts!
“You know the drill. Turn around,” another boy ordered. He crossed my wrists and within seconds, they were deftly and snugly tied. My heart beating, I tested the bonds; the knot-work was remarkable, just as competent as the ones from Adrian’s repertory.
“Goodbye guys, wish me luck!” I said to my fellows almost ironically, who were now giving the same treatment to their prisoner, Rob. Both excited and somewhat apprehensive, I was escorted to their tent and while I was being helped to get in, I thought,
This sure is going to be one long night.
TBC
Meeting the Scouts
by Nicholas H.
At some late hour, and for the second occasion that night, I woke up with the feeling of a hand pressed over my mouth. There was no point in screaming anyway, being all tied up, I wanted to inform Phil when his blurred figure became distinguishable in the dark; but his reaction to my mumbling was that prickly little smile of his, cunning, subtle, as though he knew exactly what I meant - and simply didn’t care.
“Just checking on you,” he whispered. “Everything okay?”
Although most of what I’ve written so far depicts rough treatment and recklessness when it came to capturing someone, we were actually more careful than whatever precipitated conclusion you might’ve already drawn. We did take care after each other. For example, it was mandatory among us to ensure the prisoners’ well-being from time to time. That is, to ask them if the tie-ups or gags were unnecessarily strenuous, a routine even more expected and counted on if they were to stay bound for a long period. Therefore, when Phil returned to check on me, I duly tested my bonds by struggling a bit, and having found no numbness in my limbs, I nodded. Lying in order to gain some slack and escape afterwards was out of question; it was considered most unclassy, the lowest kind of cheating and could mean the loss of the privilege in future captures. It wasn’t worth it. Besides, I was not like I wasn’t enjoying being comfortably hogtied as I was, on one side, my hands warm and sticky inside those socks, the fingers clutched in unyielding fists.
Phil then started pushing, dragging my bound body to one side of the bed.
“What on earth are you up to now?!” I said.
“Hey! Remember what I said I’d gag you with if you didn’t keep quiet?” he snapped.
This is amazing, I thought. This kid’s like 2 years younger and is playing the tough guy on me! If my arms were free, I sure would’ve beaten the crap out of the little brat. But I really didn’t have much of a choice at that point and wasn’t very sure I wanted some filthy underwear going inside my mouth (I knew he wouldn’t do it, but I played along by staying quiet).
“I brought you company so you don’t feel too lonely,” he said as he pulled someone by the arms, amused by his own words. Through the shafts of light coming from the little lantern Phil carried, I could see Adam, shirtless – the cloth was between his teeth – facing me with his wrists bound in rope.
“Adam here was on his way to the bathroom,” Phil explained. “To his bad luck, it happens to be just next to Adrian’s bed and was about to see something he shouldn’t. You can figure out the rest…”
I almost burst out laughing. I pictured Adam feeling his way through the dark room to take an urgent leak, when all of a sudden a shadow jumped, quickly yanked his t-shirt off, silenced him with it and wrapped rope around his hands. I wished I could have seen the look on Adam’s face then.
“Yea, he still doesn’t know what the hell’s going on!” Phil chuckled.
Without further ado, the blond assailant laid his new prisoner on his stomach right beside me and secured his ankles. Phil then lashed Adam’s hands to the left head post, and before he went any further, he turned me on my stomach, too, the hogtie exerting its pressure on my back. I felt the loops around my hands being loosened and my shirt removed. This gave me some scarce seconds to rub my wrists a bit – he didn’t let me remove the socks though - before Phil forced them up, above my head.
Phil then came up with an idea that made it creepy to dare imagine how much time he really spent devising his weird schemes: he passed my left arm in between Adam’s bound ones and tied my crossed wrists together, pulling the loose end and tying it off at the right head post. We were locked in a chain of arms! Stunned, we both struggled. It didn’t take me long to assess the precious advantage of this “trick”. He could have thus two boys on a bed with their hands tied to the right and the left head posts separately, and none of them would be able to reach any knots, because all efforts either boy could do to reach the post securing his own piece of rope pulled the other linked boy, who was in turn securely tied to the opposite side! We couldn’t budge from the centre of the bed! It was impossible to move to either side, as our movements were smartly limited by a balanced rope tension. And our bound hands were too far away from each other, picking each other’s wrists’ knots no longer an option.
You’re wrong if you think – as I naively thought too at the time - he was going to leave us just like that. No, not Phil; he simply loved to stop a moment before resuming the tying, so the prisoners thought he was done and started squirming, only to find out there was more to come.
He did the same chain thing with our legs, bringing our bodies even closer. Next, he grabbed two more coils, which he used on our tied ankles to link our feet to our respective head posts, leaving our bent hairless legs dangling in the air. Yes, you’re right, and our four bare soles as exposed and vulnerable as a duck in a pond during hunting season. But thankfully, Phil wasn’t much of a tickler. Instead, he pursued deeper psychological torture: he checked every loop, tightened every turn and knot, while slipping piercing devious comments and remarks, thus shattering any escaping hopes we might have borne until then.
We squirmed in vain. His rope-work was too good. Even better than Adrian’s.
“Phil,” I said, “where on earth did you learn to tie li-mpph!” He took me by surprise from behind and stuffed a wadded cloth between my teeth.
“Here you go! I told you I’d do it, Nick! Thank me I didn’t keep my full promise and it’s just one of Adam’s socks,” Phil said, holding out the other sock, so nicely and devoid of sarcasm one could’ve actually considered thanking him!
I trashed and bucked, trying to spit the disgusting garment as I felt the taste spreading inside, but he had already used my folded t-shirt to hold it in place; when he reached down to knot it off at my nape, smiling, he whispered in my ear, “Don’t worry Nick, it ain’t Adam’s socks either. Just another hankie.”
He winked and opened his fist, revealing both socks. I sighed, relieved, and did my best to smile back. It was obvious he had pretended to look tough in front of my captive fellow.
Phil finished by placing pillows under our heads.
“Don’t worry guys, you won’t be like this for long,” he said as he got up and prepared to leave, “dawn is coming in an hour and I’ll set you free to eat breakfast… If you stay quiet.”
Adam and I immediately stopped whimpering; we sure didn’t relish the prospect of remaining like this for the entire morning! It was okay while it was dark, but when the sun rose the basement would get warmer and soon we’d be covered in sweat – not to mention I was only wearing my blue briefs and it’d be sooo humiliating.
With that he crept away, leaving us to ponder our predicament and the increasing but manageable ache in our limbs. In a small single bed like the one we lay on, there was barely enough place for the both of us and we had to huddle together if we wanted to avoid the risk of falling. Adam and I had implicitly agreed with a glance at each other that there was pretty much nothing we could do to try to free ourselves, so we resigned to relax – well, as much as we could - and drift to sleep to the sounds of the forest and its animals coming from outside.
***
Summing up, as you may have noticed, our club was based on a highly motivational objective: vengeance. If a friend tied me up I’d certainly tie him up afterwards; if he tickled me some, I’d tickle him twice as much. It could continue like this for days, on and on in an endless vicious circle of tying each other for ego candies. We all knew in our hearts that when you tied someone you’d get without doubt the same treatment or worse – and that’s probably the main reason why we did it in the first place! Give a bunch of vengeful boys some coils of rope and that’s what you get. No hard feelings or resentment ever came as a result of our games, though. The vengeful lust, for us, was a mere deliberate pretext to have our buddies all tangled up.
In the midst of the most pleasurable dreams, someone began shaking my shoulders in short pushes. Very annoying short pushes.
“Nick…”
“Nick…”
“Nicholas…” I heard the voice whisper but didn’t pay attention nor did I bother to open my eyes, only murmured a couple of words which were smothered by the gag.
“Nick…” once again came to my ears. Then the poking started. One. Two. Three. Four…
Goddamit! I’m trying to get some sleep here! Can’t they wake someone up like normal people?
That was the THIRD time I was being bothered on a single night and I had the right to be pissed off. First, Phil with his crazy plan to tie Adrian which ended up with me in the same condition; then, surprise, surprise! It’s hi-let’s-tie-you-up-some-more-and-gag-you-while-we’re-at-it Phil again.
Now, I’ve had it. There’s no way I’m gonna interrupt my nap.
All of a sudden, a pair of fingers wildly plunged into my sides, attacking with relentless vigor the well-known ticklish spots that drove me wild. Berserk. Absolutely crazy. Even the sore parts of my body were hit by the nervous impulses that flowed viciously from my ribs. Fully awake, I thrashed all I could in a frantic struggle, trying to avoid the intolerable searching fingertips.
“Mphhhhhhhff!”
“Now that I finally have your attention…,” Phil said, producing a broad grin. “I hope you love birds enjoyed your time together, but my dad’s calling us for breakfast,” the boy said.
With all the writhing I had done, Adam woke up and was glaring at our captor as furiously as I was. We had already been sweating profusely, and side to side, our skins stuck to each other’s.
“Mphhh mmmphh mppphff?” Are you going to untie us or what? I grunted, twisting my hands.
“Ok, ok, stay put, it’s gonna take some time to tackle these knots, cuz,” he didn’t resist adding, “you now, I’m so good at tying them.”
Phil proceeded to unravel the ropes and tackle the knots that deprived us of our liberty – but I knew, however, hadn’t it been for Mr. Silva, Phil would have been most glad to leave us like that.
The lights were turned on. Our jaws recovered some motion when he took our gags off. We soothed our dry throats by guzzling from a couple of water bottles Phil had brought.
“I want to know… glu-glu… I have the right to know what the hell did you tie me up for!” Adam demanded, who was still clueless as to why he’d been involved in all this.
Phil laughed, “Sorry, Adam, you were at the wrong place at the wrong time! Chill, I’ll tell you all about it.”
While Phil went on with his explanation, I finished untying my ankles; he had used a good ten miles of rope on us. When I turned my head sideways, I was amazed to see we hadn’t been the only ones to spend the night trussed up like turkeys: Tyler lay gagged and hand-bound on his bed, but he continued to sleep - hardly surprising -, a white sock inserted inside his mouth and another one tied around his head.
“So he got tied up too?” I asked Phil and jerked a thumb at Tyler.
“I had nothing to do with that one. He was already like that when I came to wake you up.” I shrugged.
Adam and I headed to the bathroom and took a shower. When we came back, Chris was up and caught in an enthusiastic conversation with Phil.
“Hey Nick, Adam, did you sleep well?” Chris bloated. “Hahahaha!”
“Yeah, very funny…” I replied.
“I don’t really care that much, Chris,” Adam said, “cuz Phil knows we’ll get him sometime; then we’ll settle things out.” He finished with a smirk.
“Oh, c’mon Adam… I’ve got nothing against you. I had to do it!” Phil tried to apologize, perhaps regretting to have an erstwhile prisoner now wanting to put him in god-knows-what of a predicament. Adam was evidently enraged, so he shrugged off the reconciliation offer as he had heard nothing and started putting on a pair of worn jeans.
“Hey Chris, how come Tyler’s tied up?”
“Well, your dear cousin here,” he said pointing at Tyler, “is one hell of a snorer. I couldn’t sleep, of course. I tried to wake him up and he never did, so, you see, I fixed it!” I laughed wholeheartedly and then went on to release Tyler. After some soft slapping and tickling, he passed to a less zombie state and began to yawn and rub his eyes.
When we had all used the bathroom, Phil suggested right away that we go upstairs and have breakfast.
Red in the face, “I’ll be with you in a sec. I have to untie my prisoner, er, brother,” Phil explained.
Food? No need to ask twice. We headed to the kitchen, where a maid ushered us to the dining room. I stood stupefied for a few seconds, gaping at the biggest table I’d ever seen. It was made of a huge single 50-meter linoleum tree trunk cut in half, its elegant, shiny, polished brown-bark gradually degrading inner-wise, on which a meticulous map titled “Silva’s Farm” had been hand-carved all over. It was so staggeringly gigantic that I remember thinking they must have rather built the house around the table, since I saw no possible way of getting that either in or out!
“Yea, it’s always like this the first time you see it,” said Chris, who had seemingly by then spent many a holidays there.
It took us 2 minutes to get to the other end of the table (i.e. the other end of the room) where our meal had been already served: everything one could’ve dreamed of having for breakfast in a farm - and with no adults around, we devoured the food as its suiting animals.
As I stuffed myself with yet another slice of a peculiarly exquisite fresh cheese, Adrian, followed by his younger brother, appeared through the door. The blond boy had his upper body wrapped in a generous amount of the soft cotton rope our group was so particularly fond of, encircling his arms, chest, and pinioning his hands to his navel. Phil marched him to a chair while Adrian uttered the wildest imprecations against his captor.
“Sorry for the delay but I had to help him brush his teeth and all that,” Phil said. Excluding Adrian, we broke into boisterous laughter and resumed our meal.
For the rest of the morning and part of the afternoon we played soccer, the activity we enjoyed the most, apart from tie-up games of course. Phil allowed his “slave” to play under one condition: his wrists had to remain tied behind his back.
“No problem. I’ll still beat you,” Adrian defied.
And surprisingly, he did! Adrian scored 3 goals, whereas Phil only scored once.
***
Later in the afternoon, we cooled down under a massive tangerine tree, engaging in sporadic free-for-all grass wrestling, bored out of our minds. Phil had Adrian inescapably pinned under his legs for what it looked like the first time ever.
“I got you, bro!” he said, elated, as though he’d beaten a wrestling champ.
“Uh… he does have his hands tied behind his back, you know,” Tyler said.
Phil spun around.
“Don’t be such a spoiler!” he protested.
“Yeah, let my lil’ bro have some fun while he can,” Adrian retorted, “cuz he knows he really doesn’t stand a chance.”
Phil turned back to look down at Adrian, who, despite his position, was sneering at him.
“And you, don’t be such a smart mouth!” he said and clamped his hand over Adrian’s lips.
Annoyed by all this melodramatic comedy, I asked, “Hey, why don’t we go find those boy scouts you were yakking so much about yesterday?”
“Well, we don’t know if they’re around in the first place,” Adrian said once he’d been ungagged.
“Oh, they are,” Phil barged in, “cuz I saw one of their posters in the rodeo, recruiting new scouts for their camping out week.
“ Haha, and it said ‘come join the wonderful scouting experience’, hahaha.” He rolled around on the grass, laughing his ass off.
“And??”
“It’s like… so gay!” Phil said, rolling around in laughter.
“So gay that they kicked your asses and left you tied up for hours?” I said.
Phil now grew serious.
“We were outnumbered,” sentenced Adrian, matter-of-fact.
“Yea, they were just lucky, that’s all! We’re much better than them,” Phil defensively exclaimed. “Whose side are you on anyway, Nick?!”
“Hey! Drop it, you two,” Chris interrupted. “Let’s get back inside to get ready if we really wanna win: sleeping bags, ropes, hankies, tape, the usual stuff… Plus, we need a pretty good plan this time.”
We all nodded. Except Adrian, who sounded somewhat apprehensive.
“You mean, like now?? It’s already getting dark… and… cold… why don’t we go tomorrow?” he asked. It amazed me that Adrian was actually chickening out! There was no trace whatsoever of his ingrained macho attitude.
“No. You do as I say, slave. And yes, we’re going now!” Phil sentenced in a solemn tone, delighted to be able to force his brother against his will.
“But…”
“No ‘buts’. Move!”
Phil helped Adrian on his feet and roughly pushed him towards the house, much to our amusement. We followed them.
I reduced my pace and approached Adam, who I knew to be Adrian’s best friend, and asked him what was wrong.
“With Adrian? He doesn’t want the scouts to find out his little brother tied him up!”
***
Before leaving, we told Mr. Silva we were going to meet the scouts. Since Mr. Silva had an arrangement with the local troop, by which he allowed them to camp in his property, he knew exactly where to find us in case of an emergency.
“But a REAL emergency, dad. Please don’t show up unless you really have to,” Phil pleaded.
“Agreed. I would never do anything that could embarrass you boys in front of your friends, anyways.”
“Sure.” Adrian’s voice carried a ton of sarcasm. When asked, the boys later revealed their dad was some sort of dental hygiene freak – he’d lost all of his teeth during a poverty-stricken childhood – to the point he once judged imperiously necessary to track both of his kids down in the middle of a manhunt game just because they’d left their toothbrushes at home.
“Do you have your teeth material with you? Dental floss?”
“Yes, dad.”
“Let me see them.” They opened their bags.
“Good. Remember, behind and up, right in that spot where the food-”
“Dad…”
“I’m embarrassing you already, aren’t I?”
“Yes.”
“Sorry,” he said with an apologetic smile.
“Can we go now?” Phil said.
“Sure! Take care and have fun, boys.”
Once we were out of sight, Phil ordered Adrian to cross his hands behind his back.
“Do you really have to?”
“Yep.”
“Can’t we make a truce until the game is over? I’ll let you tie me up as much as you want then.”
“Yea, as if I could trust a word you say!” Without further discussion, for Phil was known to be as stubborn as a mule, he wrapped and cinched the rope around his brother’s wrists, leaving a loose end as a leash he’d held on to during the whole journey as if his life depended on it.
Both of them led the way. They knew the forest all too well in its full extension; this was their realms and it was a certain relief to know we wouldn’t be in disadvantage regarding field reconnaissance. Within an hour, we reached a clearing among the high pine trees and shrubs, where a couple of tents had been settled and several boys clad in brownish uniforms were gathered around a campfire. They all looked up when we entered through the open path. One of them, who seemed to be the eldest, stood and with a smile on his face, greeted us.
“Adrian!” the boy said. He was taller than the rest and bore a strong physical figure. I assumed he was about 15.
“Mike,” Adrian said.
It was as if two generals were presenting themselves previous to a battle - almost comical.
“Sorry I can’t shake your hand – I’ll explain it to you later -,” he said airily before pausing and went on, “Nice to see you again.”
“Same thing. So, what brings you down here? I see you have two more friends with you,” said Mike with a jerk of his head that swung his blond hair clear of his eyes.
“I’m Nick and this is my cousin Tyler,” I said and shook hands.
“We want to give it a try again, Mike,” Adrian stated, “your patrol against my team.”
“Adrian, Adrian buddy. Wasn’t it enough last summer? Aren’t you and your friends ever going to learn? You can’t beat us!
“In the end, how many hours we kept you tied up? Five, six? Haha. I’m starting to think you only come here because you like to be punished so much.” This kid was even more arrogant than Adrian. And Adrian could make Napoleon seem rather meek.
“So you’re not gonna play? Is that what you’re saying?” Adrian defied him now, the building tension thick enough to cut with a knife (how cheesy, but true).
“Of course we are! We’re gonna show you who rules in this forest. Aren’t we guys?”
“Yeah!!!” The group of boy scouts replied.
“We’ll see that,” came Adrian’s rejoinder.
“Only there’s a problem,” Mike said, “there are ten of us and you’re only six.”
“That’s no problem at all. We like challenges,” Adrian said. We counted on our swiftness and strength rather than number to win.
“But we’ll do this in the morning. It’s getting late now and my troop’s a bit tired.
“We’re gonna lend you a tent for the night so you don’t have to go home and come back again tomorrow,” Mike concluded.
We looked at each other hesitatingly; this sudden hospitality was too good to be genuine. We hadn’t planned on this. In fact, we’d brought the sleeping bags to spend the night “on the wild”, at a reasonable distance from the lion’s den.
“What? Do you think we’re going to launch some sort of coward attack on you while you sleep?!”
“Well, yea,” Adrian answered. “Let’s do this: I’ll take one of your scouts prisoner as a guarantee.”
Mike thought for a while, turned to one of the older boys who nodded his assent.
“Fair enough. But, you’ll have to give us one of your teammates too.”
“I’ll do it!” In sheer impulse, I had raised my hand and eagerly shouted. Everyone was looking at me now, some even taken aback and raising eyebrows.
“Well… if that’s okay with you, of course…,” I added promptly and lowered my head, as though they would be able to tell through my eyes that being the boy scouts’s captive had become a very appealing idea to me – though I didn’t know yet precisely why.
Adam grabbed me by the shoulder and took me some meters away. He stared me right into the eyes and said,
“Nick, we don’t have a clue what they’re going to do with you. Based on what I got to see from these guys last summer, it’s not going to be very nice. Are you sure you want to do this?”
In my mind, one phrase appeared: “more than anything on this world” but instead of committing social suicide, I came up with all sorts of excuses: that this way I could spy on them, that I’d get a chance to overhear their strategies, the whereabouts of their hiding spots, and blablabla. I talked him into letting me be the one; because of the promise, Adrian had to remain with Phil, they wouldn’t trust Chris or Adam, but a nice newbie like me to torture was perfect.
Adam stared at me, dumbfounded. “You really like this, don’t you?” he whispered and winked at me. My rather eloquent answer was to blush. We returned to the boys who’d been patiently waiting.
“Okay, we’re gonna do it. Nicholas here’s joining you to make sure we, too, won’t try anything funny,” Adrian announced.
“Great. Rob, my little bro, is going to be your insurance policy.” With that said, a small red-haired boy stepped to the front.
“It’s all settled then,” Mike said. “Next point: dinner. Please let’s get something to eat. After working all day in that workshop, I feel I could eat a freaking horse!”
As we headed to the “kitchen”, Mike put an arm around Adrian’s shoulder and asked,
“Now, tell me. How come are you tied up like this?”
“Well, it’s a long story…”
***
After the terms of the game were arranged, they set our tent as promised right next to theirs and due to the increasingly hot weather, we all agreed upon taking a quick dip in the nearby creek. Guided by the moonlight we returned to camp, where a big bonfire crackled and a surprise stew – we could only imagine what it contained - simmered in an oversize casserole.
On the ground, I saw two shirtless boys staked out and gagged, a sight that days ago, before our games had commenced, would’ve shocked me. Now, I simply asked a kid I had just met called Collin,
“Why are they like that?”
“Uhh… to keep them out of trouble.”
I shrugged. (What? It was a perfectly logic explanation!)
Soon the whole group, more or less 20 kids, sat on the logs around the fire, enjoying our meal and chatting. When we decided it was bedtime, Adrian, Adam, Tyler, Chris, Phil and I walked to our tent.
I was about to get in when Mike grabbed me and said,
“Nick, where do you think you’re going? You come with us now.” I had completely forgotten I would be sleeping with the scouts!
“You know the drill. Turn around,” another boy ordered. He crossed my wrists and within seconds, they were deftly and snugly tied. My heart beating, I tested the bonds; the knot-work was remarkable, just as competent as the ones from Adrian’s repertory.
“Goodbye guys, wish me luck!” I said to my fellows almost ironically, who were now giving the same treatment to their prisoner, Rob. Both excited and somewhat apprehensive, I was escorted to their tent and while I was being helped to get in, I thought,
This sure is going to be one long night.
TBC
I still like this story in spite of the fact that it is obviously not set in the England we could all recognise.
They all say boxer shorts are cool,
but little Speedos always rule.
but little Speedos always rule.
-
Tiedtothelife
- Forum Contributer
- Posts: 54
- Joined: 5 years ago
- Location: Guadalajara, México.
I did not even know it was set in England.
You know what's better than a shirtless boy tied and gagged? A shirtless boy tied and gagged being tickled.
-
Bondwriter
- Centennial Club
- Posts: 575
- Joined: 6 years ago
Hey people! Actually, it doesn't take place in England but somewhere in South America. Another episode... With pics!
The Boyscouts' Prisoner
by Nicholas H.
art by Cinched
Inside the boyscout’s tent, lit by a small kerosene lantern set to its lowest output, several sleeping bags formed a half circle on the floor. Coils and coils of different kinds of rope hung on one side wall, along with a fair amount of scarves, duct tape and logs piled in one corner. It made me shudder to think they were going to be used on me! I was starting to regret my naïve voluntarism…
The boys must have noticed the frightened look on my face, for they started laughing, patting my shoulder and offering words of encouragement as they changed their clothes. Except the ones I already knew (Mike and Collin), the scouts introduced themselves: James (12), Justin (13), Gus (13), Doug (14), Scott (14) and Klaus (15).
I must confess I felt somewhat nervous among them; naturally, all kids do when they find themselves in a new group. But add to it a rule by which they “own” you for the night, no way of calling it off, then those 8 unfamiliar faces staring at you can come as – at least– quite worrying.
Once all were changed, Mike glanced at me. I was still standing, waiting to be told what to do.
“Oh, I forgot to mention, Nicholas,” he said before he paused, “we scouts have a rule: no shorts inside our tents.” He pointed at the blue ones I was wearing. I looked around and quickly realized that, indeed, some wore t-shirts but none had a lower garment other than their briefs or boxers.
Now, I wouldn’t have posed any objections had I been with Tyler or any of my friends, but I had met these kids like a minute ago! My major concern was how they’d react if I got aroused, which invariably happened when getting tied up. As the shy boy I was, I regarded that very plausible risk of being mocked and pointed at with almost panic.
“B-b-ut why?” I complained, my voice cracking.
“Troop tradition.” Mike shrugged. “Like the blue and white scarves we wear around our necks. Who knows what they are for? It was that way before we joined and I’m sure it’s not gonna change when we leave. Here, Scott’ll take them off for ya.”
The boy, kneeling near me on his sleeping bag, made a move towards my legs; I immediately jumped back and went beet red.
Klaus –he was like the second in command– noticed my uneasiness. “Come on, let him alone Mike. He’s not one of us after all,” he said and I addressed the kid a thankful smile.
“Sure, you can keep them on, Nick,” Mike said and I heaved a sigh of relief.
“But there’s no way you’re sleeping in here. You’ll have to join the two guys outside,” he concluded and jerked a thumb at the entrance.
I peered out and glanced at the fireplace, where the hapless twins lay staked out exactly as I had previously seen them: shirtless, gagged, the muscles of their belly and thighs clenched from straining against their bonds.
There was no doubt I did NOT want to end up like that.
“You choose, Nick. Cozy tent or roasting by the bonfire.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me.” Startled and scared, I was paralyzed.
“Oh really? Get the stakes!” A shivering ran up my spine. I reacted – my legs faltered and I collapsed on my knees.
“No! Wait, Mike – pleaseemmmphh!” I begged, but Mike had already stuffed a rag in my mouth and secured it with a cloth tied behind my head. Scott grabbed both of my legs and picked me up, while two other boys lifted me by my shoulders. Thus I was carried, shrieking and whimpering under the gag all the way.
This cannot be happening. Why, WHY didn’t I listen to Adam’s warnings?
They deposited me on my back, facing the auburn-haired twins who bore shocking expressions. Mike, on the other hand, was no doubt amused by the ordeal, dangling in between his fingers four rope pieces, whose ends he intermittently lowered on my face, tickling my nose. I recognized them from the binding material inside the tent; and call me TuG freak if you want, but even during that distressing moment I acknowledged the cleverness on the rope choice: black shoelace-wide cotton strands of at least 1,5 meters long each. I was further dismayed by their apparent softness – which I would soon confirm – because that meant he had purposely selected a cord suitable for restraining someone for an extended period; and it made even more sense when I noticed that the metal stakes Scott was carrying had small holes through them.
Those that were not busy holding me down, drove the four stakes deep into the ground - two above my head and two near my feet. Both Scott’s and Justin’s hands grasped my legs firmly, stretching me out. Mike tied a variation of the slipknot on two of the ropes and handed them to the boys doing the rough work, which they used to encircle my ankles with and to bring them tightly closer to the stakes protruding 10 cm. from the earth. All the resistance and kicking got me nowhere, except from irritating my captors and thus having my shoes and socks removed. Great. Once my legs lost most mobility, they pushed me forwards to a sitting position. My hands were untied. I was stripped off of my shirt and then forced down again on my back, the dirt now in contact with my bare skin; Collin and Gus got hold of one hand each and pulled them up as far as they would go – my shoulder bones even cracked! –, pressed a knee against my forearms to keep my upper body in place, and finally lashed my wrists to their respective stakes. I should point out, for the readers’ better appreciation of the scouts’ benevolence, that my arms were attached rather than linked at wrist level, palms inwards. That is, no slack whatsoever between my wrists and the stakes.
Then, obligatory ritual without which no tie-up is complete, the captors stepped back to admire their work, i.e., a poor helpless prisoner, and ecstatically describe how distressful his situation is. And who can resist making those tricky, tantalizing questions a gagged person tries, without success, to answer?
“So, Nick,” Mike started, “now you know what keeping your pants can cost you. This is your last chance: do you wanna sleep inside our tent or outside?”
“Immshhhhhhmmmf!”
I had diametrically changed my mind. Forget the humiliation – I was going to be left tied down on the wild; who knows what might appear from the forests and there would be absolutely nothing I could do to defend myself. Damn the shorts; they could even have them for all I cared!
“What?!”
“IMMMMSHMMMMMMMPHHHFFFF!”
“Sorry, if you keep mumbling we can’t understand what you’re saying!” Mike said and the boys laughed.
I simply rolled my eyes and grunted. What else could I do?
“So you staying here? Good! You’ll make these guys fine company,” Mike said with a smile. “Oh, and don’t worry, the fire’ll keep the pumas away… while it's lit up.”
“MMMMMMMPPPPPHHHHHHHHFFFFFFF!”
With that, they left. I screamed again, louder, to no avail. Of course I was scared, who wouldn’t be?
It was the first time I got bound like this, although I needed only to pull the ropes once – if I could pull at all – to judge this method as effective as the ones I had experimented so far. The knots were unreachable – at the back of my wrists, on the other side of the stakes they were tied to.
Great, just great Nick. Stretched, staked out, gagged. What else? Oh, yes: only short shorts to cover my body! Thanks a lot. If it wasn’t for your big stupid mouth I’d be tucked in a warm sleeping bag right now. But no! Not Nicholas H.! You had to volunteer, didn’t you?
I sighed. Silence set in until I heard leaves rustling in a nearby bush. And a snarl. The fire then produced a large shadow on the ground that slowly got closer.
Perfect, now Bigfoot has come to kidnap me.
Quite surprised, I saw my cousin Tyler smiling down.
“Enjoying your night, Nick?” He squatted and untied the cloth behind my head.
I spat out the rag, “Tyler, thank God! Quick, untie me!”
“No way!” he snapped trying to keep his voice down. “If they come back and catch me here… It’s too risky. Look, we made a deal earlier this afternoon: it depends on you being their prisoner no matter what so we get a fair game tomorrow morning.”
“ ‘No matter what’?! You don’t know what you’re talking about! These scouts are nuts, they are planning on leaving me here as wild animals dinner!”
“Shhh, keep it low! I didn’t come to free you, only to check if you’re fine.”
“Thanks for the concern – now get me outta this!” I said motioning my bound hands.
“Sorry Nick, no can do,” he said and prepared to leave.
“Ty, please, don’t walk away from me like this, man! Please!” I begged, exasperated, resorting to my most pitiful look, but it was like talking to a wall.
“So are you okay? That’s all I need to hear.”
“Yes! But – mppphhhhhhhhfffff!!!” Tyler shoved the former wet rag in my mouth, cutting me off at mid-sentence, then forced the cloth between my teeth and tied it off behind my head.
“Good luck, cuz.”
As if nothing had happened, and ignoring my muffled groans, he crept away. At this stage, betrayed and abandoned by my own cousin, hope for a postponed compassion came crumbling down. I would have to stay there all night. I tried to make myself comfortable, which in my position, utterly outstretched as an X, was a challenge in itself. Couldn’t they at least give me a pillow? Despite moving an inch required strenuous effort, I lifted my head to peer at the twins: their tanned skins shone with sweat for they were much closer to the bonfire than – fortunately – I was. They were identical except from the neck down: the one to the right was strong, well-built; the other, contrasting his brother, had a scrawny boyish figure. We tried to communicate but eventually gave up because, alas, we discovered that evolution had had no consideration whatsoever for TuGs when it came to providing human species a hearing apparatus not acute enough to make out “mmmphhhf” or “mmmbblllmm” or “gggnnnnnnnnnff”. How greater otherwise the impact on the survival of the fittest captives!
Almost half an hour had gone by before I began drooling. My wrists felt sore –I had spent more time bound those two days than I did free!– and lost in my thoughts, or fears, I didn’t even realize when the boyscouts returned. They stood four on each side, grinning.
Oh boy, here comes the tickle torture.
James, Collin, Justin and Doug crouched, but to my surprise, no one traced my soles or brushed their fingertips against my bare skin. On the contrary, the loops around my ankles were loosened, and once un-rooted from the ground, they helped me on my feet. I barely had any time to rub my wrists, since they were grasped by my captors; my right arm was pulled to the left, on my chest, and my left arm under the right one, emulating the strait-jacket’s mechanism. Still gagged, I was marched into the tent. I had no clue as to this sudden change of plans but to be honest, wasn’t very optimistic either.
“Someone please take his gag off,” Mike ordered once we were inside. As soon as it was removed, and my arms let go of, I went for a desperate plea for mercy.
“Mike, I w – ”
“Ah, ah. Just listen.” I resigned to nervously stare at the boy, not knowing if they’d return me to the staking area or come up with something even worse.
“Nick, we think you’re a nice guy,” Klaus started.
“That’s right. Consider yourself the luckiest boy alive: we like you,” the leader scout friendly punched me on the arm, “and after we talked about it, we decided to give you a second chance!”
“Does that mean you’ll let me stay in here?” My voice was tarnished with skepticism.
“Yeah. Those shorts’ll have to go, though. Rules are rules,” summed up Mike.
“Oh Sure! Sure! No prob - I’ll take them off, whatever you say!” I hurriedly answered as though someone would have gagged me again if I didn’t (hey, it had become so common not letting people finish their sentences!). I slipped them down in a split second.
“Good,” Mike said, “but there’s another rule.”
Oh no, what now, isn’t this embarrassing enough?
“Newcomers get to go naked.”
“Naked?!?” I cried, my eyes wide open.
“Naked.”
“Heck no, that’s way off – ”
“Guys, take him outside… ”
I panicked. “Wait, wait! Um, I…,” I sighed, “alright… I’ll do it.” They would’ve noticed it anyway, so I complied.
Relax, take a deep breath, nothing bad’s gonna happen.
I placed my thumb between my waist and the brief’s elastic.
All of a sudden, Mike burst out laughing. “Dude, hahaha, this is too much, I can’t hold it anymore!” The boyscouts went from dead serious faces to smiles, then giggles and then laughter broke loose. One by one, the scouts dropped on the floor convulsing. A boy even rolled around clutching his stomach as he gasped for breath. I stood there, not knowing how to react.
“He was really going to do it!” Scott shrieked.
“Gosh, Nick, you’re sooo funny, hahaha!”
I eyed them dumbfounded.
“It’s a prank, meathead!” Mike said. “You got punk’d!”
“What… who… huh?” I stammered.
Panting, “Give us a minute, Nick, hahaha – no, be it two,” Klaus said as he recovered.
“So the underwear thing was a joke?”
“That was nothing! You’ve got nooo idea, Nick. Sit down – and put those shorts on! What do you think we are, perverts?
“Listen. Don’t take it personally. Adrian and I have this arrangement: whenever a new guy joins the group, they tell him terrible stuff about how our patrol handles its prisoners. And if it’s us who have a new scout joining, then we talk him into believing Adrian’s team has the cruelest and most cold-blooded kids on the planet! So, hahahaha, when we set up a game during school breaks, always the new guy gets picked to spend the night with the ‘enemy’, like you did. Of course this time they didn’t have to, because you, haha, freaking volunteered! Tell me if this kid hasn’t got balls or what.” I blushed; it wasn’t exactly courage what had pushed me to let myself be taken captive…
“Hey Nick, haha, did you really think we were gonna leave you outside like that?” Doug asked.
“Uhhh… yeah, I guess. You scared the shit out of me!” They roared with laughter.
“But the pumas!” I insisted. They laughed even louder.
“Pumas?! On this side of the country? Get real!” Klaus interceded.
I felt quite dumb by then. To this day, I’m not sure why I’d bought it, nor the extent of the role of my subconscious in playing tricks on my mind. Did I just want to believe I was totally powerless about my situation? It sure was confusing.
“Hang on a second! Why me?! Why didn’t you take Tyler, he’s also a new one!” I protested, indignant.
“That’s the best part, you know,“ Mike said trying to suppress his chuckles, “two days ago, Adrian called me and said they’re bringing a new guy, but for some reason they asked us to pretend we didn’t know your cousin! Wasn’t sure why, but I went ahead with it anyway. For the laughs.”
I could not believe my ears.
What. The. Fuck !?
I just stared uncomprehendingly at them, blinking twice.
“Don’t you get it? It was a set up! Tyler was already part of Adrian’s team. Last summer he played against us.”
I stared open-mouthed at the smiling faces of the boyscouts around me.
My mind was racing. It all makes sense now! No wonder Tyler didn’t untie me minutes ago. So that’s why he called me to his house in the first place; he wanted me to get initiated into the group! And no doubt he’s improved so much with rope-work, the scumbag had been involved with TuGs… for at least a whole year! How could I not realize… back at his place, Tyler had left the door unlocked, on purpose, so Adrian could show up on the right spot and find me tied up! Next, they lured me into their team and it all started. I just can’t believe Tyler’s been pretending this whole time!
The scouts inquired me on the scheme and I told them the story from the beginning.
“Wow, that’s what I call a real prank!” Mike acknowledged when I connected all the dots. “Adrian continues to amaze me.”
“Tyler, that brainless blood-traitor piece of shit.”
“You’ve got to admit he’s not so brainless… after all, they did come up with a helluva plan.”
“Meh. I’ve seen better.”
“Now we told you what’s going on, lie down and put your arms behind your back,” Klaus interrupted, setting his deep blue eyes ominously upon me.
“What! It’s not over?! There is more??”
“We haven’t done nothing yet!”
A realization slowly set in, that the initiation Tyler had me go through was not the real one, but rather what I’d thence experiment in the hands of these boys.
“Oh man, is there any chance you guys can let it go, just this time?”
“Nope,” Klaus said, folding his arms.
“But don’t you like me? You said it yourselves!”
“That’s right, but we still have to honor our reputation of ‘evil’ scouts,” Mike explained.
“Please?”
“No.”
“Please, please?” I clutched my hands together, begging. Their answer was to wrap a length of rope around them.
I had come to accept my fate when a crazy idea came across my mind.
“How about if I join your side! I swear I always wanted to be a scout.” (Not really, but anything goes to get you off the hook!)
They chuckled. “We do like you, Nick, but you talk too much. Sorry!” One boy held a two-sock bundle and I opened my mouth, receiving the wad with little alacrity.
“Time for a short lesson,” Mike announced, “Welcome to ‘Tying up a prisoner 101’; Nick’s gonna be our assistant for this evening.” No need to say they all chuckled to my grunting and frowning upon this humorous introduction.
Instead of using a cloth or rope to secure gag in place, Mike rummaged inside a bag and fetched a roll of transparent duct tape, from which tore a single strip and plastered it over my mouth. I grunted some more and few moments later, the tape started peeling off.
“As you can see,” he said to the others in a solemn lecturer’s tone, “this is not enough to effectively gag someone.
“However, if you use the tape this way instead,” he paused to wrap the sticky tape at least four times around my head before going on, “the subject’s ability to articulate are greatly diminished.”
I tried screaming but mere muffled ‘mphhhhs’ came through it.
“See?
“Very efficient: this gag not only drowns any attempt to cry for help but also impedes prisoners from communicating with each other. The only precaution is to always try to avoid wrapping the tape over the hair, as – many of you may already know – it can be extremely painful when it comes to removing it.” He turned me around and pointed at the back of my head where the tape passed right below my hair.
He then returned to his normal talk. “Remember the lashing I showed you on Gus this morning?” The younger boys (i.e., James, Justin and Gus) nodded.
“Here, Justin, let’s see if you learned it right.” He gave the boy a coil of rope; I presented my hands but Mike told me to cross them behind my back.
“We don’t want the enemy knowing our secret knots!”
So I did as ordered and the boy took his time tying my wrists, starting over twice. A moment later, Justin repeated the same technique with my ankles.
“Good,” said Mike, “now, let me show you what you did wrong…”
I cannot call to mind, the number of ways I was tied in after that, but sure enough more than 10: hogtied, spread-eagled, hands bound to feet in front, “mummified”, hand to thighs, you name it. And all of them thoroughly detailed and analyzed by Mike, teaching the more inexperienced ones the ropes. I even remember being bound like a ball, similar to a stricter hogtie, but with the forearms lashed to thighs, pushing my chest against the knees, not even being able to struggle! Every kind of material was used as well, from ropes, bandages, to cricket stumps and tape. The ordeal was not in vain, though; there’s always a positive side in everything, even in the distressful circumstances I was – therefrom I got to enrich my tying-up techniques repertory, by trying them out firsthand!
After what it seemed to be an hour and a half, it came the torture part: tickling demonstration.
“The thing with tickle-torture is that no matter how you do it, it is different for every person: some are extremely ticklish to the point they have tears rolling down in seconds, most people are regular ticklish, and some –very rare– are not ticklish at all.”
“Let’s see what type Nicholas is.” Mike told Collin, Gus, and Scott to tickle go for my ribs.
On that occasion, I was sitting against the wall and had my wrists tied right behind my head to a cricket stump that had been lashed horizontally over my shoulders. They made sure the ropes were tight but didn’t cut circulation. Because of the manner I was trussed up, I could not bring my hands down, thus lifting the elbows high and revealing my sensitive sides. Loops of rope tightened my legs above and under the knees, the cinching perfectly done so my thighs stuck to each other and could not even be brought an inch apart when struggling. In the same fashion, my feet were restrained at the ankles, but yet an additional object was used to further hinder my lower body’s mobility: a lengthy thick piece of wood had been placed vertically under my legs and attached to my thighs, knees and ankles. The result: I couldn’t bend my legs!
I shook my head vigorously at the mention of ‘tickle’ (I was also blindfolded). Those of you who have read some previous chapters must know I was/am the ideal sacrificial victim for tickling, since it drove me, let’s say, berserk.
“Cool down, Nick,” one of the boys suggested. “It’s not gonna hurt,” the jerk completed. Easy to say that when you’re on the giving end.
Then, without warning, it began. Three pair of hands launched into a relentless tickling spree, brushing their fingertips up and down my helpless bound body. All I could do was to thrash, writhe and fight against my bonds, nevertheless completely unable to avoid their fingers.
“Whoa! Nick is hype-ticklish, look how he squirms!” Scott said while he traced my soles. I could barely flex my toes; even so I struggled by wiggling them and rising my legs (what a pathetic spectacle it must have been). Within minutes, I was sweating as if I had run a marathon.
“Mphhhhhhfff! I pleaded for mercy through the tape-gag.
“That’s enough guys,” Mike said.
When they paused, I was breathing heavily through my nostrils, worn out and praying they would not continue. But what came next made me realize this was just the tip of the iceberg and that my relief would be brief.
Mike pointed out, delighted, that I got 11 in a 1-10 scale of ticklishness, conclusion I had no doubt of. However, he argued, for the torture to be most effective when doing real interrogations, they must now develop the art of finding “the spot”. My heart quailed.
I could not tell where they would start from or what they’d use, which was utterly exciting and terrifying at the same time. Those curious fingertips traced, in a frantic motion, every single part of my body, probing for ticklish spots and omitting none: armpits, neck, legs, ribs, arms, belly, feet were all tickled with ruthless intensity despite my squirming and mphhhing under my gag. I assure you, my body had never been explored so thoroughly before that night.
They showed no signs of desisting, and when they finally found it – I deduce it had been delayed on purpose so they could tickle me more – all the attacks concentrated there, where I was most unbelievably ticklish, on my sides.
“MPPHHHHHHHHHFFFFFF!”
STOP! I can’t take it anymore, I’m about to mess my shorts!
Nothing. I thought I’d faint anytime! Precisely when the devastating sensation overpowered me and I was on the verge of loosing control, the fingers disappeared.
My blindfold was pulled down and I first saw my captors beaming down at me. James then proceeded to remove my gag, careful not to pull the hair. Then I was offered a bottle of water, from which I drank as if there was no tomorrow.
“Thanks…,” I said between gulps, “Please… that’s enough, stop already!”
“Ha ha! Don’t worry Nick,” Klaus reassured me, “no more tickling for you. Class is over guys!”
“Awwwww,” the Inquisitionist apprentices lamented in unison for not being able to tickle me all the way to madness.
“Relax, if you capture him tomorrow, you’ll get your chance,” Mike said.
Scott added, “getting information from Nick’s gonna be a piece of cake.”
Afterwards, I asked to pee, so they untied my wrists and retied them in front. Collin took me outside, where I was shocked to learn the twins were still staked out by the campfire! When I came back, I asked Mike about them.
“They’ll be fine. They’re just having their boyscout initiation! You can ask them what it was like in the morning.”
Collin lent me a spare sleeping bag – I had left mine with Adrian – and we all chatted about unimportant things until sleepiness knocked me off (I also knew I had to save up energy for the coming battle the next day).
After that night, my concept of the word ‘boyscout’ changed forever – and solely for the TuGs, I thought about becoming one myself!
TBC
The Boyscouts' Prisoner
by Nicholas H.
art by Cinched
Inside the boyscout’s tent, lit by a small kerosene lantern set to its lowest output, several sleeping bags formed a half circle on the floor. Coils and coils of different kinds of rope hung on one side wall, along with a fair amount of scarves, duct tape and logs piled in one corner. It made me shudder to think they were going to be used on me! I was starting to regret my naïve voluntarism…
The boys must have noticed the frightened look on my face, for they started laughing, patting my shoulder and offering words of encouragement as they changed their clothes. Except the ones I already knew (Mike and Collin), the scouts introduced themselves: James (12), Justin (13), Gus (13), Doug (14), Scott (14) and Klaus (15).
I must confess I felt somewhat nervous among them; naturally, all kids do when they find themselves in a new group. But add to it a rule by which they “own” you for the night, no way of calling it off, then those 8 unfamiliar faces staring at you can come as – at least– quite worrying.
Once all were changed, Mike glanced at me. I was still standing, waiting to be told what to do.
“Oh, I forgot to mention, Nicholas,” he said before he paused, “we scouts have a rule: no shorts inside our tents.” He pointed at the blue ones I was wearing. I looked around and quickly realized that, indeed, some wore t-shirts but none had a lower garment other than their briefs or boxers.
Now, I wouldn’t have posed any objections had I been with Tyler or any of my friends, but I had met these kids like a minute ago! My major concern was how they’d react if I got aroused, which invariably happened when getting tied up. As the shy boy I was, I regarded that very plausible risk of being mocked and pointed at with almost panic.
“B-b-ut why?” I complained, my voice cracking.
“Troop tradition.” Mike shrugged. “Like the blue and white scarves we wear around our necks. Who knows what they are for? It was that way before we joined and I’m sure it’s not gonna change when we leave. Here, Scott’ll take them off for ya.”
The boy, kneeling near me on his sleeping bag, made a move towards my legs; I immediately jumped back and went beet red.
Klaus –he was like the second in command– noticed my uneasiness. “Come on, let him alone Mike. He’s not one of us after all,” he said and I addressed the kid a thankful smile.
“Sure, you can keep them on, Nick,” Mike said and I heaved a sigh of relief.
“But there’s no way you’re sleeping in here. You’ll have to join the two guys outside,” he concluded and jerked a thumb at the entrance.
I peered out and glanced at the fireplace, where the hapless twins lay staked out exactly as I had previously seen them: shirtless, gagged, the muscles of their belly and thighs clenched from straining against their bonds.
There was no doubt I did NOT want to end up like that.
“You choose, Nick. Cozy tent or roasting by the bonfire.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me.” Startled and scared, I was paralyzed.
“Oh really? Get the stakes!” A shivering ran up my spine. I reacted – my legs faltered and I collapsed on my knees.
“No! Wait, Mike – pleaseemmmphh!” I begged, but Mike had already stuffed a rag in my mouth and secured it with a cloth tied behind my head. Scott grabbed both of my legs and picked me up, while two other boys lifted me by my shoulders. Thus I was carried, shrieking and whimpering under the gag all the way.
This cannot be happening. Why, WHY didn’t I listen to Adam’s warnings?
They deposited me on my back, facing the auburn-haired twins who bore shocking expressions. Mike, on the other hand, was no doubt amused by the ordeal, dangling in between his fingers four rope pieces, whose ends he intermittently lowered on my face, tickling my nose. I recognized them from the binding material inside the tent; and call me TuG freak if you want, but even during that distressing moment I acknowledged the cleverness on the rope choice: black shoelace-wide cotton strands of at least 1,5 meters long each. I was further dismayed by their apparent softness – which I would soon confirm – because that meant he had purposely selected a cord suitable for restraining someone for an extended period; and it made even more sense when I noticed that the metal stakes Scott was carrying had small holes through them.
Those that were not busy holding me down, drove the four stakes deep into the ground - two above my head and two near my feet. Both Scott’s and Justin’s hands grasped my legs firmly, stretching me out. Mike tied a variation of the slipknot on two of the ropes and handed them to the boys doing the rough work, which they used to encircle my ankles with and to bring them tightly closer to the stakes protruding 10 cm. from the earth. All the resistance and kicking got me nowhere, except from irritating my captors and thus having my shoes and socks removed. Great. Once my legs lost most mobility, they pushed me forwards to a sitting position. My hands were untied. I was stripped off of my shirt and then forced down again on my back, the dirt now in contact with my bare skin; Collin and Gus got hold of one hand each and pulled them up as far as they would go – my shoulder bones even cracked! –, pressed a knee against my forearms to keep my upper body in place, and finally lashed my wrists to their respective stakes. I should point out, for the readers’ better appreciation of the scouts’ benevolence, that my arms were attached rather than linked at wrist level, palms inwards. That is, no slack whatsoever between my wrists and the stakes.
Then, obligatory ritual without which no tie-up is complete, the captors stepped back to admire their work, i.e., a poor helpless prisoner, and ecstatically describe how distressful his situation is. And who can resist making those tricky, tantalizing questions a gagged person tries, without success, to answer?
“So, Nick,” Mike started, “now you know what keeping your pants can cost you. This is your last chance: do you wanna sleep inside our tent or outside?”
“Immshhhhhhmmmf!”
I had diametrically changed my mind. Forget the humiliation – I was going to be left tied down on the wild; who knows what might appear from the forests and there would be absolutely nothing I could do to defend myself. Damn the shorts; they could even have them for all I cared!
“What?!”
“IMMMMSHMMMMMMMPHHHFFFF!”
“Sorry, if you keep mumbling we can’t understand what you’re saying!” Mike said and the boys laughed.
I simply rolled my eyes and grunted. What else could I do?
“So you staying here? Good! You’ll make these guys fine company,” Mike said with a smile. “Oh, and don’t worry, the fire’ll keep the pumas away… while it's lit up.”
“MMMMMMMPPPPPHHHHHHHHFFFFFFF!”
With that, they left. I screamed again, louder, to no avail. Of course I was scared, who wouldn’t be?
It was the first time I got bound like this, although I needed only to pull the ropes once – if I could pull at all – to judge this method as effective as the ones I had experimented so far. The knots were unreachable – at the back of my wrists, on the other side of the stakes they were tied to.
Great, just great Nick. Stretched, staked out, gagged. What else? Oh, yes: only short shorts to cover my body! Thanks a lot. If it wasn’t for your big stupid mouth I’d be tucked in a warm sleeping bag right now. But no! Not Nicholas H.! You had to volunteer, didn’t you?
I sighed. Silence set in until I heard leaves rustling in a nearby bush. And a snarl. The fire then produced a large shadow on the ground that slowly got closer.
Perfect, now Bigfoot has come to kidnap me.
Quite surprised, I saw my cousin Tyler smiling down.
“Enjoying your night, Nick?” He squatted and untied the cloth behind my head.
I spat out the rag, “Tyler, thank God! Quick, untie me!”
“No way!” he snapped trying to keep his voice down. “If they come back and catch me here… It’s too risky. Look, we made a deal earlier this afternoon: it depends on you being their prisoner no matter what so we get a fair game tomorrow morning.”
“ ‘No matter what’?! You don’t know what you’re talking about! These scouts are nuts, they are planning on leaving me here as wild animals dinner!”
“Shhh, keep it low! I didn’t come to free you, only to check if you’re fine.”
“Thanks for the concern – now get me outta this!” I said motioning my bound hands.
“Sorry Nick, no can do,” he said and prepared to leave.
“Ty, please, don’t walk away from me like this, man! Please!” I begged, exasperated, resorting to my most pitiful look, but it was like talking to a wall.
“So are you okay? That’s all I need to hear.”
“Yes! But – mppphhhhhhhhfffff!!!” Tyler shoved the former wet rag in my mouth, cutting me off at mid-sentence, then forced the cloth between my teeth and tied it off behind my head.
“Good luck, cuz.”
As if nothing had happened, and ignoring my muffled groans, he crept away. At this stage, betrayed and abandoned by my own cousin, hope for a postponed compassion came crumbling down. I would have to stay there all night. I tried to make myself comfortable, which in my position, utterly outstretched as an X, was a challenge in itself. Couldn’t they at least give me a pillow? Despite moving an inch required strenuous effort, I lifted my head to peer at the twins: their tanned skins shone with sweat for they were much closer to the bonfire than – fortunately – I was. They were identical except from the neck down: the one to the right was strong, well-built; the other, contrasting his brother, had a scrawny boyish figure. We tried to communicate but eventually gave up because, alas, we discovered that evolution had had no consideration whatsoever for TuGs when it came to providing human species a hearing apparatus not acute enough to make out “mmmphhhf” or “mmmbblllmm” or “gggnnnnnnnnnff”. How greater otherwise the impact on the survival of the fittest captives!
Almost half an hour had gone by before I began drooling. My wrists felt sore –I had spent more time bound those two days than I did free!– and lost in my thoughts, or fears, I didn’t even realize when the boyscouts returned. They stood four on each side, grinning.
Oh boy, here comes the tickle torture.
James, Collin, Justin and Doug crouched, but to my surprise, no one traced my soles or brushed their fingertips against my bare skin. On the contrary, the loops around my ankles were loosened, and once un-rooted from the ground, they helped me on my feet. I barely had any time to rub my wrists, since they were grasped by my captors; my right arm was pulled to the left, on my chest, and my left arm under the right one, emulating the strait-jacket’s mechanism. Still gagged, I was marched into the tent. I had no clue as to this sudden change of plans but to be honest, wasn’t very optimistic either.
“Someone please take his gag off,” Mike ordered once we were inside. As soon as it was removed, and my arms let go of, I went for a desperate plea for mercy.
“Mike, I w – ”
“Ah, ah. Just listen.” I resigned to nervously stare at the boy, not knowing if they’d return me to the staking area or come up with something even worse.
“Nick, we think you’re a nice guy,” Klaus started.
“That’s right. Consider yourself the luckiest boy alive: we like you,” the leader scout friendly punched me on the arm, “and after we talked about it, we decided to give you a second chance!”
“Does that mean you’ll let me stay in here?” My voice was tarnished with skepticism.
“Yeah. Those shorts’ll have to go, though. Rules are rules,” summed up Mike.
“Oh Sure! Sure! No prob - I’ll take them off, whatever you say!” I hurriedly answered as though someone would have gagged me again if I didn’t (hey, it had become so common not letting people finish their sentences!). I slipped them down in a split second.
“Good,” Mike said, “but there’s another rule.”
Oh no, what now, isn’t this embarrassing enough?
“Newcomers get to go naked.”
“Naked?!?” I cried, my eyes wide open.
“Naked.”
“Heck no, that’s way off – ”
“Guys, take him outside… ”
I panicked. “Wait, wait! Um, I…,” I sighed, “alright… I’ll do it.” They would’ve noticed it anyway, so I complied.
Relax, take a deep breath, nothing bad’s gonna happen.
I placed my thumb between my waist and the brief’s elastic.
All of a sudden, Mike burst out laughing. “Dude, hahaha, this is too much, I can’t hold it anymore!” The boyscouts went from dead serious faces to smiles, then giggles and then laughter broke loose. One by one, the scouts dropped on the floor convulsing. A boy even rolled around clutching his stomach as he gasped for breath. I stood there, not knowing how to react.
“He was really going to do it!” Scott shrieked.
“Gosh, Nick, you’re sooo funny, hahaha!”
I eyed them dumbfounded.
“It’s a prank, meathead!” Mike said. “You got punk’d!”
“What… who… huh?” I stammered.
Panting, “Give us a minute, Nick, hahaha – no, be it two,” Klaus said as he recovered.
“So the underwear thing was a joke?”
“That was nothing! You’ve got nooo idea, Nick. Sit down – and put those shorts on! What do you think we are, perverts?
“Listen. Don’t take it personally. Adrian and I have this arrangement: whenever a new guy joins the group, they tell him terrible stuff about how our patrol handles its prisoners. And if it’s us who have a new scout joining, then we talk him into believing Adrian’s team has the cruelest and most cold-blooded kids on the planet! So, hahahaha, when we set up a game during school breaks, always the new guy gets picked to spend the night with the ‘enemy’, like you did. Of course this time they didn’t have to, because you, haha, freaking volunteered! Tell me if this kid hasn’t got balls or what.” I blushed; it wasn’t exactly courage what had pushed me to let myself be taken captive…
“Hey Nick, haha, did you really think we were gonna leave you outside like that?” Doug asked.
“Uhhh… yeah, I guess. You scared the shit out of me!” They roared with laughter.
“But the pumas!” I insisted. They laughed even louder.
“Pumas?! On this side of the country? Get real!” Klaus interceded.
I felt quite dumb by then. To this day, I’m not sure why I’d bought it, nor the extent of the role of my subconscious in playing tricks on my mind. Did I just want to believe I was totally powerless about my situation? It sure was confusing.
“Hang on a second! Why me?! Why didn’t you take Tyler, he’s also a new one!” I protested, indignant.
“That’s the best part, you know,“ Mike said trying to suppress his chuckles, “two days ago, Adrian called me and said they’re bringing a new guy, but for some reason they asked us to pretend we didn’t know your cousin! Wasn’t sure why, but I went ahead with it anyway. For the laughs.”
I could not believe my ears.
What. The. Fuck !?
I just stared uncomprehendingly at them, blinking twice.
“Don’t you get it? It was a set up! Tyler was already part of Adrian’s team. Last summer he played against us.”
I stared open-mouthed at the smiling faces of the boyscouts around me.
My mind was racing. It all makes sense now! No wonder Tyler didn’t untie me minutes ago. So that’s why he called me to his house in the first place; he wanted me to get initiated into the group! And no doubt he’s improved so much with rope-work, the scumbag had been involved with TuGs… for at least a whole year! How could I not realize… back at his place, Tyler had left the door unlocked, on purpose, so Adrian could show up on the right spot and find me tied up! Next, they lured me into their team and it all started. I just can’t believe Tyler’s been pretending this whole time!
The scouts inquired me on the scheme and I told them the story from the beginning.
“Wow, that’s what I call a real prank!” Mike acknowledged when I connected all the dots. “Adrian continues to amaze me.”
“Tyler, that brainless blood-traitor piece of shit.”
“You’ve got to admit he’s not so brainless… after all, they did come up with a helluva plan.”
“Meh. I’ve seen better.”
“Now we told you what’s going on, lie down and put your arms behind your back,” Klaus interrupted, setting his deep blue eyes ominously upon me.
“What! It’s not over?! There is more??”
“We haven’t done nothing yet!”
A realization slowly set in, that the initiation Tyler had me go through was not the real one, but rather what I’d thence experiment in the hands of these boys.
“Oh man, is there any chance you guys can let it go, just this time?”
“Nope,” Klaus said, folding his arms.
“But don’t you like me? You said it yourselves!”
“That’s right, but we still have to honor our reputation of ‘evil’ scouts,” Mike explained.
“Please?”
“No.”
“Please, please?” I clutched my hands together, begging. Their answer was to wrap a length of rope around them.
I had come to accept my fate when a crazy idea came across my mind.
“How about if I join your side! I swear I always wanted to be a scout.” (Not really, but anything goes to get you off the hook!)
They chuckled. “We do like you, Nick, but you talk too much. Sorry!” One boy held a two-sock bundle and I opened my mouth, receiving the wad with little alacrity.
“Time for a short lesson,” Mike announced, “Welcome to ‘Tying up a prisoner 101’; Nick’s gonna be our assistant for this evening.” No need to say they all chuckled to my grunting and frowning upon this humorous introduction.
Instead of using a cloth or rope to secure gag in place, Mike rummaged inside a bag and fetched a roll of transparent duct tape, from which tore a single strip and plastered it over my mouth. I grunted some more and few moments later, the tape started peeling off.
“As you can see,” he said to the others in a solemn lecturer’s tone, “this is not enough to effectively gag someone.
“However, if you use the tape this way instead,” he paused to wrap the sticky tape at least four times around my head before going on, “the subject’s ability to articulate are greatly diminished.”
I tried screaming but mere muffled ‘mphhhhs’ came through it.
“See?
“Very efficient: this gag not only drowns any attempt to cry for help but also impedes prisoners from communicating with each other. The only precaution is to always try to avoid wrapping the tape over the hair, as – many of you may already know – it can be extremely painful when it comes to removing it.” He turned me around and pointed at the back of my head where the tape passed right below my hair.
He then returned to his normal talk. “Remember the lashing I showed you on Gus this morning?” The younger boys (i.e., James, Justin and Gus) nodded.
“Here, Justin, let’s see if you learned it right.” He gave the boy a coil of rope; I presented my hands but Mike told me to cross them behind my back.
“We don’t want the enemy knowing our secret knots!”
So I did as ordered and the boy took his time tying my wrists, starting over twice. A moment later, Justin repeated the same technique with my ankles.
“Good,” said Mike, “now, let me show you what you did wrong…”
I cannot call to mind, the number of ways I was tied in after that, but sure enough more than 10: hogtied, spread-eagled, hands bound to feet in front, “mummified”, hand to thighs, you name it. And all of them thoroughly detailed and analyzed by Mike, teaching the more inexperienced ones the ropes. I even remember being bound like a ball, similar to a stricter hogtie, but with the forearms lashed to thighs, pushing my chest against the knees, not even being able to struggle! Every kind of material was used as well, from ropes, bandages, to cricket stumps and tape. The ordeal was not in vain, though; there’s always a positive side in everything, even in the distressful circumstances I was – therefrom I got to enrich my tying-up techniques repertory, by trying them out firsthand!
After what it seemed to be an hour and a half, it came the torture part: tickling demonstration.
“The thing with tickle-torture is that no matter how you do it, it is different for every person: some are extremely ticklish to the point they have tears rolling down in seconds, most people are regular ticklish, and some –very rare– are not ticklish at all.”
“Let’s see what type Nicholas is.” Mike told Collin, Gus, and Scott to tickle go for my ribs.
On that occasion, I was sitting against the wall and had my wrists tied right behind my head to a cricket stump that had been lashed horizontally over my shoulders. They made sure the ropes were tight but didn’t cut circulation. Because of the manner I was trussed up, I could not bring my hands down, thus lifting the elbows high and revealing my sensitive sides. Loops of rope tightened my legs above and under the knees, the cinching perfectly done so my thighs stuck to each other and could not even be brought an inch apart when struggling. In the same fashion, my feet were restrained at the ankles, but yet an additional object was used to further hinder my lower body’s mobility: a lengthy thick piece of wood had been placed vertically under my legs and attached to my thighs, knees and ankles. The result: I couldn’t bend my legs!
I shook my head vigorously at the mention of ‘tickle’ (I was also blindfolded). Those of you who have read some previous chapters must know I was/am the ideal sacrificial victim for tickling, since it drove me, let’s say, berserk.
“Cool down, Nick,” one of the boys suggested. “It’s not gonna hurt,” the jerk completed. Easy to say that when you’re on the giving end.
Then, without warning, it began. Three pair of hands launched into a relentless tickling spree, brushing their fingertips up and down my helpless bound body. All I could do was to thrash, writhe and fight against my bonds, nevertheless completely unable to avoid their fingers.
“Whoa! Nick is hype-ticklish, look how he squirms!” Scott said while he traced my soles. I could barely flex my toes; even so I struggled by wiggling them and rising my legs (what a pathetic spectacle it must have been). Within minutes, I was sweating as if I had run a marathon.
“Mphhhhhhfff! I pleaded for mercy through the tape-gag.
“That’s enough guys,” Mike said.
When they paused, I was breathing heavily through my nostrils, worn out and praying they would not continue. But what came next made me realize this was just the tip of the iceberg and that my relief would be brief.
Mike pointed out, delighted, that I got 11 in a 1-10 scale of ticklishness, conclusion I had no doubt of. However, he argued, for the torture to be most effective when doing real interrogations, they must now develop the art of finding “the spot”. My heart quailed.
I could not tell where they would start from or what they’d use, which was utterly exciting and terrifying at the same time. Those curious fingertips traced, in a frantic motion, every single part of my body, probing for ticklish spots and omitting none: armpits, neck, legs, ribs, arms, belly, feet were all tickled with ruthless intensity despite my squirming and mphhhing under my gag. I assure you, my body had never been explored so thoroughly before that night.
They showed no signs of desisting, and when they finally found it – I deduce it had been delayed on purpose so they could tickle me more – all the attacks concentrated there, where I was most unbelievably ticklish, on my sides.
“MPPHHHHHHHHHFFFFFF!”
STOP! I can’t take it anymore, I’m about to mess my shorts!
Nothing. I thought I’d faint anytime! Precisely when the devastating sensation overpowered me and I was on the verge of loosing control, the fingers disappeared.
My blindfold was pulled down and I first saw my captors beaming down at me. James then proceeded to remove my gag, careful not to pull the hair. Then I was offered a bottle of water, from which I drank as if there was no tomorrow.
“Thanks…,” I said between gulps, “Please… that’s enough, stop already!”
“Ha ha! Don’t worry Nick,” Klaus reassured me, “no more tickling for you. Class is over guys!”
“Awwwww,” the Inquisitionist apprentices lamented in unison for not being able to tickle me all the way to madness.
“Relax, if you capture him tomorrow, you’ll get your chance,” Mike said.
Scott added, “getting information from Nick’s gonna be a piece of cake.”
Afterwards, I asked to pee, so they untied my wrists and retied them in front. Collin took me outside, where I was shocked to learn the twins were still staked out by the campfire! When I came back, I asked Mike about them.
“They’ll be fine. They’re just having their boyscout initiation! You can ask them what it was like in the morning.”
Collin lent me a spare sleeping bag – I had left mine with Adrian – and we all chatted about unimportant things until sleepiness knocked me off (I also knew I had to save up energy for the coming battle the next day).
After that night, my concept of the word ‘boyscout’ changed forever – and solely for the TuGs, I thought about becoming one myself!
TBC
You do not have the required permissions to view the files attached to this post.
-
Bondwriter
- Centennial Club
- Posts: 575
- Joined: 6 years ago
XTC had a better memory of the illustrations than I do. There were pics by cinched anterior to this chapter. They didn't appear in the html file I copied the previous chapters from. Here they are.
You do not have the required permissions to view the files attached to this post.
-
Tiedtothelife
- Forum Contributer
- Posts: 54
- Joined: 5 years ago
- Location: Guadalajara, México.
Finally they have the images! Thanks for that!
You know what's better than a shirtless boy tied and gagged? A shirtless boy tied and gagged being tickled.
Really loved Nicholas H's stories. But I recall this one still continues, doesn't it?
The Brotherhood
The best human pilot in the galaxy
My Bondage Academia
The best human pilot in the galaxy
My Bondage Academia
If you want to support me and allow me to commission more illustration and write more story, you can donate to my Patreon: https://www.patreon.com/carnath_gid
Thanks for posting the pics [mention]Bondwriter[/mention]
They all say boxer shorts are cool,
but little Speedos always rule.
but little Speedos always rule.
-
Bondwriter
- Centennial Club
- Posts: 575
- Joined: 6 years ago
You're welcome!
There's indeed more to this sage, Chloroboy.
A Tale of Two Brothers
by Nicholas H.
I woke up by a fist landing straight on my face.
“Aaaaaah – what the…” I rubbed my aching forehead. One of the twins lay on his back next to me, his bound hands resting on my chest.
“What did you hit me for?” I cried. Then I realized the auburn-haired kid was still profoundly asleep; he mumbled something and then he was quiet.
“Never mind, thanks for waking me up,” I said to start the day with a dose of sarcasm. Gently, I lifted the boy’s arms and placed them on his stomach. It struck me thus: they did keep them tied up all night!
“Wait a second, how come my hands are free?” I stared uncomprehendingly at them. Last thing I remembered about the previous night was drifting to sleep with my wrists securely bound.
The curiosity of knowing if anyone else was already up interrupted my thoughts, and I hastily dragged myself out of the warm sleeping-bag. For a time I sat staring at the snoring crowd of boyscouts. No surprise, it must be around 6 am. I yawned and waited until my grogginess faded out. Nothing else to do, I stood up and tiptoed my way out.
It was just after dawn indeed. The moist dirt and leaves squished under my feet and a cool breeze rolling down the steep hills through the woods struck me like cold water (after all, all I had on was my underwear!). I set to arrange the fireplace so I could warm myself up. I learned, however, that which I always thought of as an easy task didn’t reflect on the praxis – at least not for me – and in minutes had turned my mood upside down; no miserable sparks came from my clumsy efforts whatsoever.
While I knelt there, feeling no smarter than a caveman, I heard steps from behind. I whirled quite fast this time but my fears subsided by a sight that, far from frightening me, made me chuckle: the other twin, the well-built one, was hopping desperately in my direction – shirtless and bound hand and foot!
“Hey you! Please, help! Remember me? I’m Dan! My brother and I were tied up with you last night!” I jumped to my feet, ran as fast as I could and clamped one hand over his mouth and grasped the back of his head with the other.
“Shut up! Are you trying to get us into more trouble?!!” I snapped at him, looking straight into his light brown eyes. Captors certainly don’t look kindly on noisy prisoners who wander around unsupervised.
Dan kept whimpering under my hand and twisting his head, a restless expression on his face, as though he truly had something important to say.
“Ok, but keep your voice down.”
“Sorry ‘bout my screaming like that, but Nick, I really need your help man,” he whispered thankfully.
“What’s the problem?”
“ ‘Bout an hour ago I woke up because of a… uh… full blader. The problem is I can’t go!” he motioned his hands all wrapped up in rope.
He gasped for breath and continued, “Waking up one of the older guys was outta question, so I tried working with my teeth, but the knots were just too tight. When I saw you getting out I thought ‘hey, he might help me’, so, here I am,” Dan explained, visibly hurried to get done with the explanation part.
I smiled again at the distress of this 12-year-old who had by this time grabbed his crotch and started giving little jumps of impatience.
“Alright Dan, I’ll untie you, but be quiet. They’re probably gonna skin me alive if they catch me freeing one of their prisoners,” I said and a broad grin appeared on the kid’s face.
As soon as I released his ankles and loosened the loops cinching his wrists, Dan said, “That’s enough Nick, I can’t hold it any longer!” and made a dash for the woods. A few minutes later he returned, now bearing a relieved expression; the boy then made himself comfortable on a nearby log and inspected, very amused, as I worked vainly with tree branches and lumps of dusty coal.
“A fire is more about flames than smoke, you know,” he mocked, seeing a deep cloud steaming from my abortion of a bonfire. “Unless you want to send signals to your Indian friends, hahaha.”
“So you think you can do it better?” I retorted.
Without uttering a word, Dan rearranged the mess as I stepped aside; he gathered some sticks and twigs above large stumps, and then placed red-hot charcoal bits with dry leaves in the center. First came deep smoke, but aided by soft blows at the bottom, it soon awakened to a medium but steady fire.
“Uh, I was getting there,” was all my pride allowed me to utter.
“Yeah right,” said Dan and smiled. He had done it in two minutes - I had been trying for twenty -, and despite having his hands tied, much more effectively than I could have ever.
As a pot of coffee - I had managed to retrieve it conspicuously from the tent - heated before us, we chatted about school, boyscouts, soccer and, last but definitely not least, tie-up games. He and his brother Billy had been playing it at home for as long as he could remember, but the role of those innocent games suddenly leapt to a different level when they decided to join their new church’s boyscout troop. Last weekend, at Sunday-school, Dan told me, the twins had overheard Mike’s patrol’s conversation. I cannot and won’t judge the veracity of the story he told me about that episode, although it’s probable some jazzing up was involved in order to impress me; if my memory hasn’t failed me much, the anecdote he told me goes like this:
***
“…yes, take two more 2-meter lengths of rope; and an extra roll of tape, of course,” Mike told Klaus, who scribbled on a piece of paper. The twins, just behind them, surprised by the unexpected mention of binding material, strained their ears at once and leaned forward to try to catch every bit of what was being said.
“I talked to Adrian last night,” Mike explained. “So Wednesday: they come to our camp, sleep there –no surprise raids this time guys– and first thing in the morning battle is on. Okay?” The other boys nodded enthusiastically. Billy and Dan paid no further attention to the young preacher talking in front of the class -as if anyone ever had- and concentrated on every gesture and word between Mike and his mates.
“Adrian also told me they were bringing a new guy, so we’ll have some night fun instead.”
“Fresh meat!”
“Hey, nothing too harsh, just trussing the kid up good to scare him, like we usually deal with new ones…”
Dumbfounded, the twins looked at each other with thrill, open-mouthed at the sudden discovery of other kids who enjoyed the same games. They had just moved into the neighborhood two weeks ago and didn’t know whether they’d continue assisting to boyscouts’ activities or take up soccer practices – until now. Needless to say, there had been sporadical tie-up situations back in the boys’ former group, but not near as exciting and promising as the prospect of this patrol’s plans for the upcoming week. Through their unspoken agreement - one look and a mutual nod -, that special understanding, almost telepathic, all twins seem to have with each other, both boys put aside any second thoughts and decided right away they’d join them in whatever it was that involved TuGs.
“I’m sorry, you’re Mike, right?” Dan asked, interrupting their conversation. The boys turned around.
“Hi, I’m Dan and this is my brother Billy. We’re new here and we were wondering if we could join the church’s boyscout group. You have one, don’t you?”
“Yeah,” answered a puzzled Klaus. “Sure, we can put you in Sam’s patrol and-”
“Actually, we want to hang around with you guys,” Dan broke in hastily. “You see, my brother and I, we… em… uh… ”
“- like to tie each other up,” Billy filled in and put an arm around his brother. “Dan here does the rope-work. Actually, I think his only purpose in life is tying me up.”
The other kid blushed, but quickly retorted. “Look who’s talking! You’re always asking me to tie you up! I can’t remember one single day you didn’t spend an hour or two tied up!” Now it was Billy’s face tainted by two creeping scarlet patches. The boyscouts, in view of such a strong determination from these 12-year-olds, undeterred neither by shame nor embarrassment, burst out laughing.
“Keep it down, please, you boys back there,” echoed the man in front. They suppressed their laughter but no one said a word, for they were still a little bit shocked by the revelations of these two kids who seemingly were extreme tie-up games enthusiasts.
“Mike, the thing is we couldn’t help hearing your plan for tying someone up,” confessed Dan, “it sure sounds like lotta fun.”
“Can we play too?”
“Yeah, we’ll be nice and do as told,” Billy added, almost beggingly.
“Well…” Mike looked at his chums and pondered for a while, perhaps visualizing the effect of the new variables in his schemes; then, putting an end to the cajoling of the twins, he replied, “Okay!” with a mischevious grin.
According to Dan’s story, while they were thanking Mike, promising they’d give them no trouble and that they’d not regret it, someone knocked at the door to tell the preacher he had an urgent phone call. The man said he’d be right back and asked the oldest student, Mike, to continue reading (not the best decision, but I guess he didn’t have much choice). Mike went to the front of the class, leaving an empty seat between Collin and Klaus.
“Hey Billy, come here and sit with us,” said Collin glancing backwards. The boy got up, went all the way round but before he could sit, his brother came running, knocked him to the ground and stole his place.
“Dan, you jerk, that’s my seat!”
“I got here first!” With that, they began arguing, calling each other names. They conversely told each other to piss off and their voices soon rose to a shouting contest. Mike, who had been reading aloud and was at this moment obviously annoyed by that interruption, ordered,
“You two, the twins, cut it out. I’ll tell you this only once: sit down and shut up.”
“Okay, you heard him; give me my chair and go sit somewhere else,” Billy, who stood with his arms crossed, told his brother.
Dan sternly replied, “No, you retard – it means YOU go sit somewhere else!”
That last phrase must have got to Billy’s nerves, for he ferociously tried pulling Dan out of the seat by the arms; and failing doing so, he dragged the chair along with the boy on it. The friction from the metal leg against the tiles resounded loudly in the room – and in the head of a now really upset Mike.
“Come here! Now! I’ve had enough of you two.” He placed the book on the table and looked fiercely at them.
The twins froze. Slowly and shyly, Dan first, then Billy, walked up to the older boy.
“Sorry Mike, it won’t happen again.” There was a trace of fear in the boys’ voice; but not fear of a punishment, though. What they were most afraid of was that Mike would reconsider his early acceptance to allow them to participate in the games.
“I’m sure it won’t.”
Not wasting his time, Mike grasped Dan’s hands by the wrists with one hand while he wound rope he’d taken out of his pockets around them with the other. Always deliberate and thorough, Mike tightened each loop to leave no slack for struggling.
Mike had placed the teacher’s chair in front of the desk. It was large, with long armrests and a high quilted backrest, wide enough… for two boys to fit –or, more appropriately, squeeze– in.
“Sit.” Dan was pushed down on the chair, and his ankles and knees were deftly bound in the same fashion. Next, he took an additional coil of rope, placed Dan’s already restrained arms on his lap and lashed them to his thighs, pinning the boy’s hands down. More rope – which Mike produced from seemingly bottomless pockets - was wrapped around Dan’s chest and arms to attach his extremities closer to his body; and as to immobilize the poor boy, one end of a short piece of rope was tied at the ankles, brought down the chair and behind, being finally lashed to the backrest’s support.
In the meantime, Billy stood there watching, delighted, as his twin brother was restrained to the point that moving an inch was impossible without falling off. When Mike turned to Billy, he had already put his hands together, fingers intertwined. Mike smiled.
“Oh, a willing prisoner.” General laughter came from the spectators.
Within minutes, Billy lay tightly tied up on the chair next to his brother. Dan was lashed separately to the right armrest and Billy to the left one, but were drawn together by several coils around their arms and chests, going behind the backrest and around the boys’ bodies again.
The tying finished, Mike headed to the teacher’s desk and after rummaging inside one of the drawers, pulled out a shiny silver roll of duct tape. He plastered one strip each of Dan’s and Billy’s mouths, smoothing the surface with his fingers from cheek to cheek, making sure it stuck to their small faces and effectively kept their lips sealed.
“There you go. Ah, you know what? Today’s topic is exactly all about solidarity and sharing! Thanks for illustrating the point with a live parable, guys. See how sharing is better than fighting over it?”
More chuckles ensued as the twins mpphed through their gags.
With the twins quiet now, Mike went on reading, glancing occasionally at them.
Thirty minutes later, the teacher returned to find Dan and Billy still pretty much the same on his chair.
“Oh Michael, not again! This is the first time these boys come to our church and you’re already tying them up!”
“But Mr. X, they were fooling around, they didn’t let me read! Just ask the others.”
The man sighed.
“Could you please release them?”
“Oh, they can stay like that. They don’t mind. Seriously.”
“Michael!”
“Okay, okay.”
***
“After he untied us,” Dan continued telling me as we finished our coffee, “Mike introduced us to the other kids. Then they told us that, ‘cuz we were new, we had to go through an ‘initiation test’. I say it’s bunk - they made it up, but hey, we couldn’t argue with them. Mike told us we had to spend straight 24 hours tied up and -this is the tricky part- if we asked to be freed, for any reason, it’d start all over again.
“So, me and my bro’ve been tied up for 22 hours now, I think. Hmm. Yeah, that’s it. It started yesterday at 7 am when Mike kidnapped us from home,” he concluded.
“24 hours?!? Are you serious? That’s fucked up.”
“Nah, it’s no great deal you know, it’s not like we’re kept hogtied all the time…”
“Wait, why didn’t you tell me I wasn’t supposed to untie you? I just freed you.”
“Well, no, my hands are still tied,” he lifted them, “so technically, I’m not ‘free’. Besides, I needed to go,” Dan chuckled.
“Yeah, it’s been ok so far. Compared to what I heard you went through last night...” he let the sentence linger on, expecting me to fill him in with the details.
“Oh, yeah, last night! You can’t even imagine; I was so tired by the time they were finished that I didn’t even notice when they untied my hands. This morning though, your brother woke me up – he hit me in the freaking head!”
“Hahahahaha! That’s just like Billy. It wasn’t on purpose. He’s a sleepwalker you know, moves a lot in his sleep and waking him up is harder than–mphhhhhhffff!!!!” He was cut in mid sentence by a hand appearing out of nowhere. Then – I saw it coming - another one clamped over mine. I looked up and saw Klaus and Mike glaring back at me from behind.
“What the hell you think you’re doing here?” Mike, who kept his hand firmly placed over my mouth to muffle any sudden cry for help, whispered in my ear. No explanatory chances allowed, they dragged us back into the tent, where almost everybody was already up, and pinned us down to the ground.
“What if someone saw you? They’d say: ‘look how Mike doesn’t take care of his prisoners, they go out loose and he don’t even have guards on them!’ ” I couldn’t protest under the boyscout’s grips, but Mike was really starting to freak me out. He was acting like he was in charge of a concentration camp!
“Let’s get him ready. Adrian will be up in any minute,” said Klaus. James and Gus quickly tied my hands behind my back and my elbows as well. One boy squatted beside me holding two wadded socks in his hands.
“Open up.” I obeyed reluctantly and the bundle was shoved deep in and held by a line of cloth forced between my teeth and tightly tied off behind my head. They helped me on my feet. Only then I was able to catch a glimpse of Mike’s face: red in anger, wicked eyes, nervously squinting inside the tent.
“Where’s Collin? Where is he?! He was supposed to be keeping an eye on Nick!” Mike roared. A boy pointed towards a sleeping-bag on a corner where the boy was, all curled up and snoozing like a child. Mike looked down at him.
“Oh boy, I really don’t wanna see this,” Klaus said half-joking, half-disturbed, “let’s go outside.” They slipped my shorts up and marched me out of the tent. As we walked away, I could hear behind me, first cries of regret; then pleading, followed by screams and cries for help. And after that, all that came were faint and unintelligible muffled shrieks.
TBC
There's indeed more to this sage, Chloroboy.
A Tale of Two Brothers
by Nicholas H.
I woke up by a fist landing straight on my face.
“Aaaaaah – what the…” I rubbed my aching forehead. One of the twins lay on his back next to me, his bound hands resting on my chest.
“What did you hit me for?” I cried. Then I realized the auburn-haired kid was still profoundly asleep; he mumbled something and then he was quiet.
“Never mind, thanks for waking me up,” I said to start the day with a dose of sarcasm. Gently, I lifted the boy’s arms and placed them on his stomach. It struck me thus: they did keep them tied up all night!
“Wait a second, how come my hands are free?” I stared uncomprehendingly at them. Last thing I remembered about the previous night was drifting to sleep with my wrists securely bound.
The curiosity of knowing if anyone else was already up interrupted my thoughts, and I hastily dragged myself out of the warm sleeping-bag. For a time I sat staring at the snoring crowd of boyscouts. No surprise, it must be around 6 am. I yawned and waited until my grogginess faded out. Nothing else to do, I stood up and tiptoed my way out.
It was just after dawn indeed. The moist dirt and leaves squished under my feet and a cool breeze rolling down the steep hills through the woods struck me like cold water (after all, all I had on was my underwear!). I set to arrange the fireplace so I could warm myself up. I learned, however, that which I always thought of as an easy task didn’t reflect on the praxis – at least not for me – and in minutes had turned my mood upside down; no miserable sparks came from my clumsy efforts whatsoever.
While I knelt there, feeling no smarter than a caveman, I heard steps from behind. I whirled quite fast this time but my fears subsided by a sight that, far from frightening me, made me chuckle: the other twin, the well-built one, was hopping desperately in my direction – shirtless and bound hand and foot!
“Hey you! Please, help! Remember me? I’m Dan! My brother and I were tied up with you last night!” I jumped to my feet, ran as fast as I could and clamped one hand over his mouth and grasped the back of his head with the other.
“Shut up! Are you trying to get us into more trouble?!!” I snapped at him, looking straight into his light brown eyes. Captors certainly don’t look kindly on noisy prisoners who wander around unsupervised.
Dan kept whimpering under my hand and twisting his head, a restless expression on his face, as though he truly had something important to say.
“Ok, but keep your voice down.”
“Sorry ‘bout my screaming like that, but Nick, I really need your help man,” he whispered thankfully.
“What’s the problem?”
“ ‘Bout an hour ago I woke up because of a… uh… full blader. The problem is I can’t go!” he motioned his hands all wrapped up in rope.
He gasped for breath and continued, “Waking up one of the older guys was outta question, so I tried working with my teeth, but the knots were just too tight. When I saw you getting out I thought ‘hey, he might help me’, so, here I am,” Dan explained, visibly hurried to get done with the explanation part.
I smiled again at the distress of this 12-year-old who had by this time grabbed his crotch and started giving little jumps of impatience.
“Alright Dan, I’ll untie you, but be quiet. They’re probably gonna skin me alive if they catch me freeing one of their prisoners,” I said and a broad grin appeared on the kid’s face.
As soon as I released his ankles and loosened the loops cinching his wrists, Dan said, “That’s enough Nick, I can’t hold it any longer!” and made a dash for the woods. A few minutes later he returned, now bearing a relieved expression; the boy then made himself comfortable on a nearby log and inspected, very amused, as I worked vainly with tree branches and lumps of dusty coal.
“A fire is more about flames than smoke, you know,” he mocked, seeing a deep cloud steaming from my abortion of a bonfire. “Unless you want to send signals to your Indian friends, hahaha.”
“So you think you can do it better?” I retorted.
Without uttering a word, Dan rearranged the mess as I stepped aside; he gathered some sticks and twigs above large stumps, and then placed red-hot charcoal bits with dry leaves in the center. First came deep smoke, but aided by soft blows at the bottom, it soon awakened to a medium but steady fire.
“Uh, I was getting there,” was all my pride allowed me to utter.
“Yeah right,” said Dan and smiled. He had done it in two minutes - I had been trying for twenty -, and despite having his hands tied, much more effectively than I could have ever.
As a pot of coffee - I had managed to retrieve it conspicuously from the tent - heated before us, we chatted about school, boyscouts, soccer and, last but definitely not least, tie-up games. He and his brother Billy had been playing it at home for as long as he could remember, but the role of those innocent games suddenly leapt to a different level when they decided to join their new church’s boyscout troop. Last weekend, at Sunday-school, Dan told me, the twins had overheard Mike’s patrol’s conversation. I cannot and won’t judge the veracity of the story he told me about that episode, although it’s probable some jazzing up was involved in order to impress me; if my memory hasn’t failed me much, the anecdote he told me goes like this:
***
“…yes, take two more 2-meter lengths of rope; and an extra roll of tape, of course,” Mike told Klaus, who scribbled on a piece of paper. The twins, just behind them, surprised by the unexpected mention of binding material, strained their ears at once and leaned forward to try to catch every bit of what was being said.
“I talked to Adrian last night,” Mike explained. “So Wednesday: they come to our camp, sleep there –no surprise raids this time guys– and first thing in the morning battle is on. Okay?” The other boys nodded enthusiastically. Billy and Dan paid no further attention to the young preacher talking in front of the class -as if anyone ever had- and concentrated on every gesture and word between Mike and his mates.
“Adrian also told me they were bringing a new guy, so we’ll have some night fun instead.”
“Fresh meat!”
“Hey, nothing too harsh, just trussing the kid up good to scare him, like we usually deal with new ones…”
Dumbfounded, the twins looked at each other with thrill, open-mouthed at the sudden discovery of other kids who enjoyed the same games. They had just moved into the neighborhood two weeks ago and didn’t know whether they’d continue assisting to boyscouts’ activities or take up soccer practices – until now. Needless to say, there had been sporadical tie-up situations back in the boys’ former group, but not near as exciting and promising as the prospect of this patrol’s plans for the upcoming week. Through their unspoken agreement - one look and a mutual nod -, that special understanding, almost telepathic, all twins seem to have with each other, both boys put aside any second thoughts and decided right away they’d join them in whatever it was that involved TuGs.
“I’m sorry, you’re Mike, right?” Dan asked, interrupting their conversation. The boys turned around.
“Hi, I’m Dan and this is my brother Billy. We’re new here and we were wondering if we could join the church’s boyscout group. You have one, don’t you?”
“Yeah,” answered a puzzled Klaus. “Sure, we can put you in Sam’s patrol and-”
“Actually, we want to hang around with you guys,” Dan broke in hastily. “You see, my brother and I, we… em… uh… ”
“- like to tie each other up,” Billy filled in and put an arm around his brother. “Dan here does the rope-work. Actually, I think his only purpose in life is tying me up.”
The other kid blushed, but quickly retorted. “Look who’s talking! You’re always asking me to tie you up! I can’t remember one single day you didn’t spend an hour or two tied up!” Now it was Billy’s face tainted by two creeping scarlet patches. The boyscouts, in view of such a strong determination from these 12-year-olds, undeterred neither by shame nor embarrassment, burst out laughing.
“Keep it down, please, you boys back there,” echoed the man in front. They suppressed their laughter but no one said a word, for they were still a little bit shocked by the revelations of these two kids who seemingly were extreme tie-up games enthusiasts.
“Mike, the thing is we couldn’t help hearing your plan for tying someone up,” confessed Dan, “it sure sounds like lotta fun.”
“Can we play too?”
“Yeah, we’ll be nice and do as told,” Billy added, almost beggingly.
“Well…” Mike looked at his chums and pondered for a while, perhaps visualizing the effect of the new variables in his schemes; then, putting an end to the cajoling of the twins, he replied, “Okay!” with a mischevious grin.
According to Dan’s story, while they were thanking Mike, promising they’d give them no trouble and that they’d not regret it, someone knocked at the door to tell the preacher he had an urgent phone call. The man said he’d be right back and asked the oldest student, Mike, to continue reading (not the best decision, but I guess he didn’t have much choice). Mike went to the front of the class, leaving an empty seat between Collin and Klaus.
“Hey Billy, come here and sit with us,” said Collin glancing backwards. The boy got up, went all the way round but before he could sit, his brother came running, knocked him to the ground and stole his place.
“Dan, you jerk, that’s my seat!”
“I got here first!” With that, they began arguing, calling each other names. They conversely told each other to piss off and their voices soon rose to a shouting contest. Mike, who had been reading aloud and was at this moment obviously annoyed by that interruption, ordered,
“You two, the twins, cut it out. I’ll tell you this only once: sit down and shut up.”
“Okay, you heard him; give me my chair and go sit somewhere else,” Billy, who stood with his arms crossed, told his brother.
Dan sternly replied, “No, you retard – it means YOU go sit somewhere else!”
That last phrase must have got to Billy’s nerves, for he ferociously tried pulling Dan out of the seat by the arms; and failing doing so, he dragged the chair along with the boy on it. The friction from the metal leg against the tiles resounded loudly in the room – and in the head of a now really upset Mike.
“Come here! Now! I’ve had enough of you two.” He placed the book on the table and looked fiercely at them.
The twins froze. Slowly and shyly, Dan first, then Billy, walked up to the older boy.
“Sorry Mike, it won’t happen again.” There was a trace of fear in the boys’ voice; but not fear of a punishment, though. What they were most afraid of was that Mike would reconsider his early acceptance to allow them to participate in the games.
“I’m sure it won’t.”
Not wasting his time, Mike grasped Dan’s hands by the wrists with one hand while he wound rope he’d taken out of his pockets around them with the other. Always deliberate and thorough, Mike tightened each loop to leave no slack for struggling.
Mike had placed the teacher’s chair in front of the desk. It was large, with long armrests and a high quilted backrest, wide enough… for two boys to fit –or, more appropriately, squeeze– in.
“Sit.” Dan was pushed down on the chair, and his ankles and knees were deftly bound in the same fashion. Next, he took an additional coil of rope, placed Dan’s already restrained arms on his lap and lashed them to his thighs, pinning the boy’s hands down. More rope – which Mike produced from seemingly bottomless pockets - was wrapped around Dan’s chest and arms to attach his extremities closer to his body; and as to immobilize the poor boy, one end of a short piece of rope was tied at the ankles, brought down the chair and behind, being finally lashed to the backrest’s support.
In the meantime, Billy stood there watching, delighted, as his twin brother was restrained to the point that moving an inch was impossible without falling off. When Mike turned to Billy, he had already put his hands together, fingers intertwined. Mike smiled.
“Oh, a willing prisoner.” General laughter came from the spectators.
Within minutes, Billy lay tightly tied up on the chair next to his brother. Dan was lashed separately to the right armrest and Billy to the left one, but were drawn together by several coils around their arms and chests, going behind the backrest and around the boys’ bodies again.
The tying finished, Mike headed to the teacher’s desk and after rummaging inside one of the drawers, pulled out a shiny silver roll of duct tape. He plastered one strip each of Dan’s and Billy’s mouths, smoothing the surface with his fingers from cheek to cheek, making sure it stuck to their small faces and effectively kept their lips sealed.
“There you go. Ah, you know what? Today’s topic is exactly all about solidarity and sharing! Thanks for illustrating the point with a live parable, guys. See how sharing is better than fighting over it?”
More chuckles ensued as the twins mpphed through their gags.
With the twins quiet now, Mike went on reading, glancing occasionally at them.
Thirty minutes later, the teacher returned to find Dan and Billy still pretty much the same on his chair.
“Oh Michael, not again! This is the first time these boys come to our church and you’re already tying them up!”
“But Mr. X, they were fooling around, they didn’t let me read! Just ask the others.”
The man sighed.
“Could you please release them?”
“Oh, they can stay like that. They don’t mind. Seriously.”
“Michael!”
“Okay, okay.”
***
“After he untied us,” Dan continued telling me as we finished our coffee, “Mike introduced us to the other kids. Then they told us that, ‘cuz we were new, we had to go through an ‘initiation test’. I say it’s bunk - they made it up, but hey, we couldn’t argue with them. Mike told us we had to spend straight 24 hours tied up and -this is the tricky part- if we asked to be freed, for any reason, it’d start all over again.
“So, me and my bro’ve been tied up for 22 hours now, I think. Hmm. Yeah, that’s it. It started yesterday at 7 am when Mike kidnapped us from home,” he concluded.
“24 hours?!? Are you serious? That’s fucked up.”
“Nah, it’s no great deal you know, it’s not like we’re kept hogtied all the time…”
“Wait, why didn’t you tell me I wasn’t supposed to untie you? I just freed you.”
“Well, no, my hands are still tied,” he lifted them, “so technically, I’m not ‘free’. Besides, I needed to go,” Dan chuckled.
“Yeah, it’s been ok so far. Compared to what I heard you went through last night...” he let the sentence linger on, expecting me to fill him in with the details.
“Oh, yeah, last night! You can’t even imagine; I was so tired by the time they were finished that I didn’t even notice when they untied my hands. This morning though, your brother woke me up – he hit me in the freaking head!”
“Hahahahaha! That’s just like Billy. It wasn’t on purpose. He’s a sleepwalker you know, moves a lot in his sleep and waking him up is harder than–mphhhhhhffff!!!!” He was cut in mid sentence by a hand appearing out of nowhere. Then – I saw it coming - another one clamped over mine. I looked up and saw Klaus and Mike glaring back at me from behind.
“What the hell you think you’re doing here?” Mike, who kept his hand firmly placed over my mouth to muffle any sudden cry for help, whispered in my ear. No explanatory chances allowed, they dragged us back into the tent, where almost everybody was already up, and pinned us down to the ground.
“What if someone saw you? They’d say: ‘look how Mike doesn’t take care of his prisoners, they go out loose and he don’t even have guards on them!’ ” I couldn’t protest under the boyscout’s grips, but Mike was really starting to freak me out. He was acting like he was in charge of a concentration camp!
“Let’s get him ready. Adrian will be up in any minute,” said Klaus. James and Gus quickly tied my hands behind my back and my elbows as well. One boy squatted beside me holding two wadded socks in his hands.
“Open up.” I obeyed reluctantly and the bundle was shoved deep in and held by a line of cloth forced between my teeth and tightly tied off behind my head. They helped me on my feet. Only then I was able to catch a glimpse of Mike’s face: red in anger, wicked eyes, nervously squinting inside the tent.
“Where’s Collin? Where is he?! He was supposed to be keeping an eye on Nick!” Mike roared. A boy pointed towards a sleeping-bag on a corner where the boy was, all curled up and snoozing like a child. Mike looked down at him.
“Oh boy, I really don’t wanna see this,” Klaus said half-joking, half-disturbed, “let’s go outside.” They slipped my shorts up and marched me out of the tent. As we walked away, I could hear behind me, first cries of regret; then pleading, followed by screams and cries for help. And after that, all that came were faint and unintelligible muffled shrieks.
TBC
How wonderful to read this story again after all these years!
-
bondagefreak
- Honorary Member
- Posts: 5503
- Joined: 6 years ago
- Location: Québec
- Contact:
I freaking love this tale, mate.
Thanks so much for reposting your old stuff!
The TAG function is temporarily out of function, but I posted something regarding you and your stories on the "Question for everyone" thread I opened up in TUGs Talk.
On another note...
I feel really bad for saying this, and didn't wanna say anything at first, but the illustrations used in this tale actually take something away from the story for me. Again, the drawings are nice, and I'm usually the first to post my appreciation for supporting artwork, but in this case I'm not a fan.
The stories you write (this one being no exception) generally deal with teens from ages 13-16 if I'm correct.
However, the "teens" in these illustrations don't look at all like teens! The enlarged heads and miniaturised bodies are reminiscent of elementary school kids. I personally feel that the story would greatly benefit from the addition of illustrations that actually featured teenaged guys instead of children.
The sharp dialogue used, the intellect of the characters, as well as their skill and ingenuity with rope/gags don't match the illustrations at all. In short, I honestly don't feel that these pics are doing the story justice. But that's just me.
It's a minor thing though.
Your work is amazing and I freakin' love how you manage to keep the atmosphere sorta hot and playful at the same time. Always looking forward to your updates.
Thanks so much for reposting your old stuff!
The TAG function is temporarily out of function, but I posted something regarding you and your stories on the "Question for everyone" thread I opened up in TUGs Talk.
On another note...
I feel really bad for saying this, and didn't wanna say anything at first, but the illustrations used in this tale actually take something away from the story for me. Again, the drawings are nice, and I'm usually the first to post my appreciation for supporting artwork, but in this case I'm not a fan.
The stories you write (this one being no exception) generally deal with teens from ages 13-16 if I'm correct.
However, the "teens" in these illustrations don't look at all like teens! The enlarged heads and miniaturised bodies are reminiscent of elementary school kids. I personally feel that the story would greatly benefit from the addition of illustrations that actually featured teenaged guys instead of children.
The sharp dialogue used, the intellect of the characters, as well as their skill and ingenuity with rope/gags don't match the illustrations at all. In short, I honestly don't feel that these pics are doing the story justice. But that's just me.
It's a minor thing though.
Your work is amazing and I freakin' love how you manage to keep the atmosphere sorta hot and playful at the same time. Always looking forward to your updates.