A Scout's Life (fff/f & f/fff) - Chapter 4 (Apr. 12, 2024)

[AlexUSA3]

A Scout’s Life Part 1 (fff/f)

“Hey, look, it's Joyce Nerdi,” a girl named Ruth-Ann taunted me.
“I’m not a nerd!” I insisted, “I just wear glasses!”
“It's because her parents are so old; that's what my dad says,” others joined in.
“And you're wearing a Star Trek t-shirt!” the girl pressed onwards.
“It's my only t-shirt; you know that.”
“Yeah,” another said out of the corner of her mouth, “Because she's always wearing polo shirts and jeans like a nerd.”
“That's not true! Just yesterday I wore shorts and a blouse!”
“Yeah, but you are such a nerd! Hockey, Star Trek, checkers, diabetes… NERD!” Ruth-Ann persisted before turning around, “See you at scouts, Nerdi.”

I kept my head high as she walked away, but as soon as the school was out of sight I burst into tears as my mom drove me home. We were approaching the end of spring here in Florida, and it was hot. Tall clouds were growing all over the sky; storms were on the way. Florida has two real seasons: wet and dry. My 13 year-old hormones had as much as they could take; I was a wreck all the way home. That naturally sent my blood sugar spiraling out of control; type 1 diabetes was quite the affliction.

Mom comforted me, and when I got home I dutifully did my homework because I was going to spend the weekend in the woods with my girl scout troop. I was a good scout and learned all the lessons from little kids making necklaces out of woodland flowers to learning things typically taught in Boy Scouts. Just because we weren't Boy Scouts didn't mean we couldn't learn how to pathfind in a forest, how to tie a variety of knots, or how to make a proper tourniquet. This trip was specifically reserved for those of us who were 12-16 years old and effectively female Boy Scouts.

There was one big problem for me: Ruth-Ann and her little gang. Oh how I wanted to stuff her filthy socks in her filthy mouth. She hated me because I always finished the year first in the class; she and I lived in the same neighborhood and therefore attended the same schools from kindergarten until now. She was a stereotypical Irish brat, and we had run-ins about her ancestry and me being 100% Italian. Usual rivalries just like the ones my father had growing up in 1950s Rhode Island.

I wanted to slap the red-haired girl so hard that her freckles would pop off. She was a source of much woe to me; I fought fire with fire. We took turns being a thorn in each other's side. My first ever swear word was about Ruth-Ann McCormick. “Mom, why is Ruth-Ann such a b-tch?” I asked my mom, and I got to discover the tangy flavor of Lever 2000.

Yet, we pushed each other and blessed each other. Sometimes we seemed to hate each other while at others we seemed to be driven by an intense rivalry built upon a mature sense of mutual respect. For example, Ruth-Ann invited me to her 13th birthday party among just 7 girls invited to the occasion, so I invited her to my own just a few weeks later. When I broke my leg, Ruth-Ann visited me at home and sent me a get well card complete with the signatures of each of our classmates. I sent a sympathy card when her grandmother died. Yet we had a mud brawl break out once a year, complete with cat claws, screeching, and hair pulling.

Being teens now and going through the pains of puberty turned the dial to 11 though; I was a sniveling snot while she was an insufferable elitist snob. Her short fuse became shorter than a Christmas light’s; my temper had become the kind upon which movies were made. But we were still ourselves.

I wasn't just the superior in the classroom, though; I was the superior scout too. I had the advantage of starting at a younger age; I was often lumped with the high schoolers for scout activities, the few there were. We donned our girl scout knickers, shirts, and neckerchiefs like we always did; they were stereotypical khaki scout uniforms with an ostentatious oversized orange bandana. Each of us had a backpack and a sleeping bag with us.

“Joyce,” Ruth-Ann’s friend, Hallie, asked me, “Would you take us pathfinding?”
“I can do that,” I didn't see anything wrong with that, “Bring a bag just in case.”
“Ruth’s got hers,” she motioned, “Becky’s coming too.”
“No problem. I’ll get permission from Mrs. Banks.”
“We’ll be waiting!” Hallie was usually the nice one, “See you over by the creek.”
“OK!”

It was much nicer after the storm had passed, but the ground was soaking wet in spots where the ground lay lower. The sky still had bright white clouds, and the sun shone brightly. The sky itself was a brilliant blue that was fading with the approach of the end of day.

Hallie was a true blonde with long golden strands that she usually held back in a coordinating headband or scrunchie, like the solid white headband she had right now. As a classmate, she left much to be desired, but she tried her best to be a scout despite not always properly understanding the lessons being taught. Hallie was the only girl present who had been a scout as long as me. Naturally taller and stocky, at this time she had maybe 3 inches on me, whatever height I was then (maybe 4’10”?).

Becky was a brunette and a shrimp and would run to whichever person had the upper hand at the moment; she was a traitorous unscrupulous snitch in the constant drama of the world of Ruth-Ann McCormick and Joyce Verdi. I think she didn't realize what a total flip-flop she could be; she just wanted to be a winner. She was at least 3 inches shorter than me and built like a stick. In the 500 year event of a panther sighting this far north in the state, Becky needn't worry about getting eaten because that cat would be still hungry afterwards. In the more likely event of encountering a black bear, one of us would just pull her pigtails and leave her in our dust.

Then there's me. I’m what the folks call “dark ash blonde” because my hair is a shiny blonde at one angle and a soft, pale brown at other angles. My hair never reached too far down my back; like Hallie I wore a headband albeit a soft pink one. Solid frame is the right term because my bones were thicker than normal but not like Hallie’s. Back to the show.

Pathfinding was like second nature to me. I could tell directions by sun and star alike and could recognize terrain with ease. The trees told me their secrets, and the creeks were a gateway to the campsite. I happily led my fellow scouts down the path. What I didn't know was that behind me my fellow scouts were planning something sinister.

“This is a good place to stop. Probably about a mile or so away,” I said proudly.
“It's peaceful out here,” Becky took a deep breath.
“All right. Which of you wants to find the way back?”
“Um… could we stop and do something else first?” Ruth-Ann seemed anxious.
“Well, we can pause for 10 or 15 minutes for sure. What was in mind?” I asked her.
“I wanted to practice some knotwork since you're so good at it.”

Ruth-Ann pulled a few ropes out of her bag and explained how she'd been working on a noose knot. We of course only learned it as a matter of perfectionism; we hadn't any reason to execute someone or lasso them at the moment. Well, most of us hadn't, but Ruth-Ann sure did! I turned around just a moment, and that's when the lasso draped around me and was pulled tight, clamping my arms to my sides and throwing me to the forest floor.

“Quick, Beck, gag her like I said!” Ruth-Ann announced.
“Becky, Hallie, Ruth-Ann, no!” I yelled in distress, “Why are you doing this?!”
“To teach your goodie two-shoes smug punk a$$ a lesson!”
“Girls, please don't!” I begged them before Becky stuffed a pair of socks in my mouth.
“The less you fight us, the easier this will be! You’ll spend a night alone out here in the forest.”
“Agggghhhhhh!” I started crying.
“All, poor little Joyce is weeping,” Hallie taunted me.

The socks filled my mouth, and Becky secured the stuffing with a navy blue bandana she had brought just for the occasion. I had never been gagged before except once at the dentist; losing my ability to talk was terrifying. Imagine being a 13 year old scout and having your fellow scouts be so jealous they're willing to risk killing you.

Ruth-Ann tied me up while Hallie used her size to keep me down. Besides tightening the lasso to wrap around my chest, Ruth-Ann also tied my wrists, ankles, and thighs to practice her knots. With each one, she got better at the art of kidnapping, and she kept going back and forth between knots to improve her work. Becky tied a rope from my flailing legs to a neary scrub pine; I knew she'd do fine regardless.

With practice, Ruth-Ann discovered that cinching rope helped with humans as well as with firewood, so she redid my bonds to have cinching between my limbs. With each effort, I knew escape was getting further away, and for a finishing touch Hallie taped my mouth shut as well. I had bandanas like any other girl, but I had never as much as touched a roll of duct tape before.

I was scared. I was bound and gagged in a forest far from home and some 1-2 miles away from the scout troup. My attackers were girls from my own troup, girls I went to school with and saw every day. I looked up at them with pleading eyes and talked into my gag; they simply giggled at being unable to understand me.

“Don't worry, Joyce, I can find the way back; see you tomorrow,” Hallie laughed.
“Wait, girls, she needs a parting present,” Ruth-Ann found some sandy mud and smeared it on my face and in my hair before wiping her hands on my shirt.
“Guhmm mmm mmmphhh!”
“What did she say?” Ruth-Ann taunted me.
“‘Guhmm mm mmmphhhh!’ was all I heard,” Becky said before planting a muddy foot on me.
“Let's leave this rubbish behind; she'll muddy herself enough,” Hallie started to leave.

I started crying and loudly wailing as the girls walked away from me. I wanted to be home with Mommy and Daddy! The stress could literally kill me; diabetes is no joke, especially the kind I have. If I went into a sugar crash, I was a goner out here; I couldn’t afford to panic. What was I supposed to do, though?

“MMMMMMM!” I yelled, but there was no one who could hear me.

I twisted my wrists and started to wonder… was this the end?

TO BE CONTINUED

[endofstar]

Nice start, kind of fan of the whole scout situation, even if Ruth and her friends really need a high and tight lesson as Diabetes is really not a joke at all !
I wonder how Joyce gonna manage to have a revenge on the three girls.

[AlexUSA3]

Nice start, kind of fan of the whole scout situation, even if Ruth and her friends really need a high and tight lesson as Diabetes is really not a joke at all !
I wonder how Joyce gonna manage to have a revenge on the three girls.

First Joyce has to get out

It's a scout story; of course someone is going to end up gagged with their scout bandana.

[Shotrow]

This is kind of up my alley thematically. Interesting mix of immaturity and peril. I can't wait to see how Joyce gets out of this one.

[AlexUSA3]

A Scout’s Life Part 2 (fff/f)

I remained in my little blob of mud without much care. I wasn't a girl who made mud pies, but I wasn't a sissy either. I couldn't believe that those girls had done this to me! Neither of us had ever done anything half as sinister as this. I had to figure out some way out of this.

“MMMMMMMMMMMM!” I screamed into the gag.

There was no one to hear me though. I could imagine that twisted little liar Ruth-Ann telling the troop leader that we'd gotten separated after running into a rabid raccoon or something just as stupid so that they'd postpone a rescue party. I was going to get her back somehow! Maybe I would tie her up so tightly her freckles would pop!

She had done her homework; I wasn't making much noise. The multiple gags worked together to keep me soft and unintelligible. The fabric in my mouth made me dry out as time passed; the tape smelled awful. The bandana tightly jammed the socks deep into my mouth.

The ropes were tight. When I tried to move my arms, the rope kept them together. I tried to move my legs, but the tree kept me from doing anything. Yanking violently only violently yanked on my ankles to which that rope was attached. I was bound and gagged worse than those girls in the movies.

The ropes dug into my legs and arms like I couldn't believe; they were tightly cinched and quite uncomfortable. I was most comfortable on my stomach because my bound arms were quite awkward behind my back, but being on my stomach put my face in the mud. It's Florida, so it's rather flat even in places like Ocala where I lived. There was no escaping the mud as it was rather muddy for 100 feet around this tree.

I sat up and saw that the rope connecting me to the tree was only a foot long or so. I had no way to lean myself against the tree. I couldn't even twist myself to reach that rope and unknot, nor could I reach the rope at my ankles because I… I could! Tough as it was, I gave my a nasty mud pie to scrunch my hips up into the air; then with a deep breath I pushed myself off the ground so I was on my knees with my butt against my shoes.

“Gmph!” I grunted while trying to find a knot.

I had never as much as played cops and robbers with my niece, who, truth be told, was older than me, or anyone else for that matter. The comments about my father's age, as my mom was his second wife, were like a knife to me; everyone in the school just had to attack my dad’s age when they wanted to upset me. That comment earlier still was like a thorn in me all these hours later. I had to defend Daddy’s honor as well!

I grunted a lot while trying to find the knot. Finding it was one task; unknotting it was an entirely different art form! I felt the rope in my fingers, seeking the thickness of an amateurish knot tied by Becky. Her knots were always crap, and this one was what I had come to expect of her.

Moving my lips didn't loosen the tape like it did in the movies and shows. I guess my mouth was filled too much for me to move my jaw enough to accomplish that much. I tried my best regardless while trying to escape these ropes. That rope around my arms and torso really was making things a lot harder!

Becky’s knot could have been untied by a 4 year old if I could get it off with my hands tied behind my back. A sense of pride filled me as I got myself in a more comfortable position of sitting with my back against the tree. My scout neckerchief gave me a tiny bit of cushion against the bark.

That was nice, but what about the rest? At least I could see how my legs were tied; I wasn't sure if wearing shorts was a good or bad thing when you were tied up. I could not wait to practice my knots on Ruth-Ann and Hallie in particular! Speaking of knot tying, Ruth-Ann had done a fine job. For once her logs would have stayed together so the raft could float. A silly thought came to me: maybe tying each other was actually a fairly good way to practice our rope work. True or not, I wanted to get those three back so badly! I was going to do the same and more to them when I got the chance!

I looked left and then right and let out the loudest shriek I had ever let out. Anyone in a half mile radius would have heard that one with a little help from the trees; maybe I was too confident in my ability to screech. With tears pouring down my cheeks, I was becoming desperate. Maybe I hadn't tried the right thing yet to escape. Escape had to be possible; if a rope knot had been tied, it had to be possible to untie it.

Without many other choices available to me, I started shimmying my legs together in a more confident bid to free myself. If they were going to make sport of me, then I’d just have to make sport of their ropework. I knew I was the superior knot girl in this scout troop, better than even the high schoolers, but I didn't let it go to my head like I let some other things.

While shimmying my legs, I twisted my crossed wrists as best as I could. Something had to give, right? I knew there had to be slack somewhere! I wasn't turning purple or blue anywhere or going numb, so my circulation wasn't cut off. I grunted into the gag more from frustration than anything else.

Ruth-Ann was a professional jerk. I pictured myself hogtying her and then submitting her to the Florida State Fair as a prize pig! Becky would get chained like Aladdin and get submitted as a pet weasel. Hallie would be dangling upside down from a tree like a piece of meat since she was Ruth-Ann’s meatheaded croney!

I looked to the west and saw the sky beginning to turn orange; no doubt now there'd be a search team consisting most likely of one troop leader and one or two of the high school girls. Storm clouds were forming again; I had to get back before that happened though! I’d be one wet Joyce then! It was such a pretty sunset, too. The weather was a source of peace to me normally; right now it was a source of panic.

Did that? Was that a rope coil slipping? I wriggled my wrists a little, and sure enough there was something a little looser. I looked down and saw that the rope on my thighs and knees had both slid about 2 and 4 inches, respectively. I had done it! I just had to keep at it! My new method of wiggling had worked; aside, I am not telling you what I did then or now because that gives me an advantage when playing with my friends.

I continued to squirm until another coil loosened. Then another. Then another! I was free! Ruth-Ann hadn't kept me down! I kept my gag on because I wanted the leader to see it and the rope marks. I untied the ropes on my legs one at a time and untied the rope around the tree. Now it was time to head back.

With ropes draped all over my body and a gag still in my mouth, I walked back to the campsite. As I walked along, bolts of lightning started appearing in the distance. I’d have quickened my pace, but the combination of mud and tree roots made that seem a bit risky when I was really having to blaze my own path back to the troop.

“I see her!” a voice shouted; one of the older girl's had spotted me.
“Joyce!” another came running towards me.
“Mmmm!” I ran to her; she immediately started removing the gag..
“Who did this to you?! Which one of the girls tied you up?!” the troop leader asked.
“It was Ruth-Ann’s idea; she said we were practicing knots,” was all I said.
“I see she did a good job,” she studied my rope marks, “We’ll fix this tomorrow.”
“You poor thing, they left you in a mud puddle,” an older girl spoke.

I knew better than to cry, but I was a muddy mess. I changed out of my scout uniform for a brief period so it could be washed and carefully dried over the fire while I hid in the high school girls’ tent in my underwear while wrapped in a blanket. Sitting there, I ate the dinner that had been set aside for me and talked to the one girl who was just a year ahead of me in school, Fiona. The troop leaders seemed to be scheming without getting into it with Ruth-Ann and her clique.

“You OK?” Fiona looked at the rope marks on my body.
“Oh, yeah! I was just scared about what would happen before I was found. I didn't think a boar or a bear would find me first, but I was concerned about rain for sure.”
“Well, it's a dry lightning this time. Why’d they do it?”
“No reason, really,” I shrugged, “Ruth-Ann and I have always been frenemies. I’ll get her back.”
“Mrs. Hughes (the troop leader) said she might permit you to exact some knot practice revenge on them. I’d like to help. You're a good girl.”
“I’ll take the help. Now, listen, I have an idea, but Mrs. Hughes needs to OK it.”

I started to explain my ideas to Fiona, and she kindly pointed out the flaws in my idea with a desire to see me succeed. Soon, Mrs. Hughes was there, and we sat for a brief moment talking about plans while I ate. Once we were alone, Fiona asked all sorts of questions about my time tied up, and I realized that she was strangely interested in it. I had never heard of TUGs, but she mentioned something of the kind.

Fiona was actually smaller than Hallie; she was on the high school volleyball team and built like it. I was just an 8th grader who had survived the worst scare of her life and survived by her own determination. The chestnut haired girl promised to do any deed necessary to help in my revenge quest and that she wouldn't interfere; this was my battle and mine alone.

Once I had my dried uniform, I went out just in time for campfire songs and s’mores that I couldn't have anyway. It didn't matter; I was studying the frightened girls while making plans of revenge. I had studied how Ruth-Ann had tied me up, and Fiona told me some more tips based on her own experience with logs since none of us had anything else to really reference in our minds.

You three girls are going down… one… by…one.

TO BE CONTINUED

[AlexUSA3]

A Scout’s Life Part 3 (f/fff)

A little song played by the other troop leader, Mrs. Pulaski, on the guitar with us girls singing was great, right? They'd even been nice enough to bring some more diabetic friendly dark chocolate so that I’d have something even if I couldn't enjoy the s'mores with the rest of the girls. Oh, yeah… there seemed to be a few voices missing. Three of us just sat with dry mouths and dumb looks on our faces instead of singing. Hallie and Becky weren't so confident anymore, and they now questioned their great leader.

“Girls,” Mrs. Hughes announced since by now everyone knew what had happened, “I need a couple of volunteers to demonstrate how to properly tie some special knots.”
“Mmm. Meee! Meee! Uh oh. She's onto them,” were among the mutterings heard.
“Ruth-Ann, I’d like you to come up,” the headmistress motioned.
“Yes, Mrs. Hughes,” Ruth-Ann’s face turned a lovely shade of gray.
“Joyce, of course you’ll demonstrate for us, right?”
“Gladly, Mrs. Hughes!!” I bounced at my opportunity.
“Joyce, you’ll demonstrate diagonal lashing, in particular. Since we haven’t any logs, we’ll have you use Ruth-Ann. Be gentle; she is a person. But we don’t want our mast to collapse in the middle of a whitewater rafting adventure, now do we?”

This was Mrs. Hughes telling me to tie Ruth-Ann’s arms behind her back. With only 11 of us here– me, Ruth-Ann and her two goonies, the three high schoolers, and the two troop leaders– the other two were on good terms with me– it was obvious to all that a humiliation was in the works for Ruth-Ann. Everyone had to know by now; there were too few of us; whispers had certainly gone around the camp.

Mrs. Hughes gave me a piece of rope, and Ruth-Ann became as white as the moon shining above us now that the clouds were gone. The stress was manifesting as huge blobs of grease on her face; the vainglorious wench was going to have zits next week on top of the humiliation of the weekend. Served her right.

I lashed her wrists better than a mast since a piece of rope went much further on arms than it did around logs, and when my diagonal lashing was finished her wrists couldn't budge. I tried not to get smug about it, but I proudly twirled Ruth-Ann about for all to see while the high schoolers and my allies giggled. Mmes. Hughes and Pulaski gave a silent nod of approval.

“Joyce, you did a fine job. You should do this again with a step by step explanation while everyone watches you do it. Hallie, would you please?” Mrs. Hughes gave the orders around here.
“Do I have to do it?” she gulped and cowered in fear.
“Go at it, you big lug!” Fiona gave her a nudge.
“You want that ‘Good Helper’ badge you're missing. This will earn it.”
“I’ll explain it well enough you will know what I am doing,” I said.
“OK…,” Hallie shuffled over.

With her back to my audience, Hallie became my demonstration dummy. It was clear that Mrs. Hughes was setting up Becky to be alone because I could take her out in my sleep in a one-on-one scenario. By taking Hallie, she eliminated the big trouble spot for me, and I hid my glee as I explained diagonal lashing in a way that those who did not have this one mastered could understand it. I was getting an unfair advantage in my revenge quest.

Lashing Hallie’s wrists was deeply satisfying. When I was the one doing the tying in a less malicious way, it was suddenly fun! I kept my thoughts to myself to share with Fiona and my other pals when I got the chance. It was great watching the meathead lose all her confidence and become meek as a rabbit in an open field. My highest and greatest glory of the moment was yet to come.

“Joyce, you are so good at explaining this!” Mrs. Hughes continued, “Would you be a doll and show the girls how to properly secure the logs of a raft. I know Grace [one of the high schoolers] and Isabella [my friend] have had some problems with this.”
“What should I use for that?” I asked while eyeing Ruth-Ann.
“I think you could use Ruth and Hallie’s legs. To demonstrate.”
“All right!” I said and heard laughter from some of the other girls.
“Thank you so much for being so helpful, all three of you” Mrs. Pulaski played along.
“I always try to help even if it comes back to bite me.”

Ruth-Ann and Hallie sat down together on their chairs so I could tie their legs just like logs by first wrapping rope around both legs together and then cinching it in between, as had been done to me. My ropework was stronger and slack free because I had the full mastery of the knots. I did it to Ruth-Ann first and showed the results and then gave a step-by-step explanation on Hallie, tying both their thighs and their ankles.

I could see dread in both faces. The leader was apologetic, but the toady increasingly became self-righteous. Ruth-Ann and I had the love-hate thing going, but Hallie held a genuine grudge against me for whatever reason. I had seen the good side of the ring leader before, so I knew the problem was us; with Hallie, there was nothing to gain or to salvage by this exercise except teaching her a lesson. Ruth-Ann was whiter than the moon now, and Hallie looked sick.

“Of course, logs are never lashed in pairs,” Mrs. Pulaski was playing dirty!
“That's true! Should I make it a little quartet?” I asked Mrs. Hughes.
“I think so. It's harder to do that and requires careful technique to keep your raft from falling apart.”
“Mrs. Hughes, I’ll try my best!” I eagerly accept the challenge.

I secured Ruth-Ann’s left leg to Hallie’s right in three spots. The first was their waist, the second was below the knees, and the third was their ankles. Scouts must be good at improvisation, and I improvised by taking the girl’s belts and using it to secure their arms to their torso just below their boobs, just like they had tied me, with a reason like what I just told you with the additional explanation of adding structural integrity for a spoken excuse.

We’re scouts; we all had some amount of rope in our bags to use in case of the need of building an emergency shelter. Not all of us had the materials for a gag, though. I had to improvise if I wanted to do that, but I was waiting for a leader to say something. It all started with my ally Grace though.

“Mrs. Hughes, shouldn't the mouths be secured?” she asked.
“You're quite right. I will leave it to you girls to decide as it is late,” she responded.
“OK,” I said, “We will figure it out. Grace, can you give me a hand?”
“Sure thing!”
“Fiona, Becky, please put out the fire,” Mrs. Pulaski knew Becky would hightail it.
“Yes, ma’am,” Becky responded while shaking.

Grace and I led the captive duo into the tent. We pushed them and tickled them in the ribs to get them to move when they tried to resist. In a minute, the terrible duo were sitting on the floor of the tent. This entire time, neither of them had said a word; they weren’t going to get the chance.

One funny thing about Grace was that she didn’t wear the scout bandana around her neck. She wore it on her head to hold her hair back, and these bandanas were 27 inches as opposed to the usual 22 inch bandana, which meant they were over 20% larger. I mention Grace because she took hers off, folded it up into a 2 inch wide strip, and handed it to me.

“Gag one of them,” she said, “I doubt anyone else has a regular scarf like they used on you.”
“But it’ll get spitty and gross,” I grimaced at the thought.
“I’ll wash it before I wear it again. If they’re sleeping like this, I don’t want them to have a pair of socks in their mouth like you did.”
“It’s awfully big,” I look at it and think about it.
“Well, tie a couple of knots in the middle; that’ll make it bigger in their mouths!” she suggested.
“Good idea!” I smiled as we learned the ropes together.

Becky stumbled into the tent with a big shove from Fiona and looked down at the ground. I did not turn but focused on gagging Ruth-Ann; then I took my own neckerchief and gagged Hallie in a similar manner. Just imagining what I have seen on TV shows and movies, I took the captive’s neckerchiefs and blindfolded them with those. Becky kept turning to Fiona with mixed fear and anger.

“Ruth-Ann, things will smooth over by the morning,” I brushed her hair, “I know you’re sorry.”
“Joyce, I’m sorry for what we did earlier,” Becky grumbled a bit.
“Yeah, right. You’re always just trying to be on the winning side. Not this time.”
“Please don’t tie me up! Please, Joyce! Don’t!” her groveling amused the older girls.
“Fiona, Isabella, may I have your bandanas?” I asked my friends while effortlessly taking Becky.
“MMMMM!” I got a decided kick out of grabbing and hand gagging her.

Fiona handed her bandana to Grace who knotted it like the others since she had seen what I did to them. By now, Becky was on the floor of the tent on her stomach with my knee in her back to keep her in submission. I effortlessly pulled the bandana between Becky’s teeth and knotted it to secure the gag; the blindfold was similarly easy. The entire time, Becky focused on Fiona.

I repeated my exercises of diagonally lashing the mast, belting the mast against the post to keep it in place, and tying the logs together. We were all giggling and having fun now… those of us in the tent. My other middle school friend and the other high school girl weren’t in on the fun quite yet, and they had retreated to the other tent to spend the night. Becky cried crocodile tears in an effort to get out of this, but none of us were having that.

“I once saw in a movie,” Isabella said, “Where the girl’s hands and wrists were tied together.”
“Anyone got a rope left? I’ve cleaned out myself, Ruth-Ann, Hallie, and Becky now.”
“We’ve all got rope!” Grace laughed and handed me a piece.
“No! Hleathe!” Becky kept begging.
“Would one of you girls like to tape her mouth up well?” I looked around.
“I’ll do it,” Fiona volunteered, “I saw a show where the girl had her mouth taped really tight!”
“May I do Hallie?” Isabella asked, “She’s so annoying when she’s trying to be a bully!”
“Does that mean I get Ruth-Ann?” I asked them.
“You should since she’s your nemesis and the one who had the idea to do what they did,” Grace had a wonderful maturity for her age.

It served these three right, didn’t it? They were all nicely bound and gagged much more tightly than they had tied me, but then again they didn’t have socks stuffed in their mouths. I felt smug when I sealed Ruth-Ann’s mouth with 5 winds of the smelly gray glue. But, they had been smug about trying to abandon me in the forest for the night. Until tomorrow!

TO BE CONTINUED

[Shotrow]

Some well-deserved comeuppance! I can't help but notice a bit of a tonal shift in the story. The first chapter seemed to be play the bondage really seriously, as something that could potentially cause actual harm. But over time, things got a bit more light-hearted, with Mrs. Pulaski allowing Joyce to get her revenge in kind rather than inflicting more serious consequences on the perpetrator's. Guess it foreshadows potential reconciliation.

[Lucky Lottie]

A surprisingly kind revenge given the circumstances. I can foresee future adventures with these girls under more cheerful bondage sessions.

Good story so far

[GermanTUGFriend]

@AlexUSA3 First things first - it's been a longer while since my last comment here. But I'm still alive

Thanks a lot for this really cool and well written story. It's great to see how it goes and how well the tie-ups work. At least all the three 'bad' girls are bound tight, gagged and blindfolded. Just the way I like it So let's see what will happen in the next chapter and where the ropes will do their work I'm excited and I'll stay tuned

[AlexUSA3]

Some well-deserved comeuppance! I can't help but notice a bit of a tonal shift in the story. The first chapter seemed to be play the bondage really seriously, as something that could potentially cause actual harm. But over time, things got a bit more light-hearted, with Mrs. Pulaski allowing Joyce to get her revenge in kind rather than inflicting more serious consequences on the perpetrator's. Guess it foreshadows potential reconciliation.

Things have taken a rather interesting turn, now haven't they?

A surprisingly kind revenge given the circumstances. I can foresee future adventures with these girls under more cheerful bondage sessions.

Good story so far

The best is yet to come.

@AlexUSA3 First things first - it's been a longer while since my last comment here. But I'm still alive

Thanks a lot for this really cool and well written story. It's great to see how it goes and how well the tie-ups work. At least all the three 'bad' girls are bound tight, gagged and blindfolded. Just the way I like it So let's see what will happen in the next chapter and where the ropes will do their work I'm excited and I'll stay tuned

There is more to come for one of our villainesses and our hero!

On to the finale of A Scout's Life!

A Scout’s Life Part 4 (fff/f)

I woke up with a smile on my face in a tent that was absolutely overcrowded. Girls were on top of girls, crammed between girls, and using girls as pillows. Grace, Fiona, Isabella, and I were all in here with the nicely bound and gagged Becky, Hallie, and Ruth-Ann. Thankfully, it had been a beautiful night, so there were no chills or sweats.

I had my arms wrapped around Ruth-Ann; in the bustle of the night before we had “detached the logs” before going to sleep since we needed the space for more girls to fit. I hushed Ruth-Ann as I gently woke her up before helping her up to tiptoe out of the tent as the first rays of sunlight were arriving over the forest. I took Ruth-Ann outside the camp along with the roll of duct tape just in case I needed to gag her again. Once we were seated against a tree, I pulled the bandana off her eyes.

“Ruth-Ann, I forgive you,” I started before I ever unpeeled the tape.
“Mm horry mmth!” she looked at me sadly.
“I’m sorry, too, for being so smug about everything.”
“Mm rrrihhh hoo!”

That was the moment we finally crossed the line from being sometimes friends and sometimes enemies to being full-time friends. Oh, sure, we disagreed on a lot of things still, but we’d just finally agreed to put our hormones behind us. I felt a relief overcome both of us, and I sat there just clutching my rediscovered friend.

From different tents, I saw Fiona and Mrs. Hughes both emerge; the former had Becky with her and a childish smile. It was then that I realized that Fiona had this odd desire to tie up people and that this had simply been the opportunity falling in her lap. I then wondered if this had been her idea in the first place to get this sort of thing going. It didn’t matter since all three were coming towards me.

“Good morning, girls,” Mrs. Hughes crouched down by us.
“Good morning, Mrs. Hughes. Thank you for last night,” I said cheerfully, “You fixed things up between us; I think we’re friends for real now instead of frenemies.”
“That’s so good to hear! Is it fun using each other as rope subjects?”
“It kind of has been fun!” Fiona’s eyes lit up at the thought.
“Ruth-Ann?” I asked my captive cuddle buddy.
“Maybe we need one more rope game then.”

Let’s see: me, Ruth-Ann, Becky, Hallie, Grace, Fiona, Isabella, Jessica, and Lexi. Jessica and Lexi were the two who went to bed instead of playing last night. We could be in teams, and the goal would be to capture each of the girls on the other team. For want of other ways to identify teams, we could be identified by how we wore our scout bandanas. We talked so much, but it never came to fruition like the troop leaders envisioned.

“Hallie, I’m willing to let bygones be bygones. You don’t have to be my friend as long as we can get along,” I said to her over breakfast.
“No way! I’m not letting this go so soon! You humiliated me last night!”
“There’s nothing personal between…”
“Ruth-Ann and Becky are irrelevant, Nerdi. I hate your guts!!” Hallie shrieked for all to hear.
“What did you just say?” Grace calmly stood up as the only girl big enough to face Hallie.
“I said, ‘I hate Nerdi’s guts!’ you deaf idiot!”
“Hallie! That’s enough!” Mrs. Pulaski boomed loudly, “Fix your attitude, all of you! Hallie, you have no moral obligation to be friends with anyone here, but hatred is beneath a scout, especially ones as experienced as you are.”
“I’m done with being a scout if this is what it's about!”
“You hate me?” I asked Hallie with shock written on my face, “Hate? Like… you… you meant it when you called me ‘rubbish’ yesterday and taunted me because I was crying while you three…”

Hallie's eyes grew wide, and she realized that 20 eyes stared at her. OK, it was 19, but Isabella couldn't help her lazy eye without her glasses. At least 7 or us were mortified by the seriousness of Hallie's actions; I actually was scared by this. Hallie didn't care if their actions had hurt me. I was just ‘rubbish’ to her. She didn't want to kill anyone or cause genuine harm, but she genuinely had nothing but animosity towards me..

Grace, Fiona, and Jessica, the high school girls, all showed righteous indignation, and even Lexi was disgusted by this despite not being interested in the rope games. I had to fight my own fight though; I had 9 allies and one enemy. This was my chance both to prove myself as a true scout and to put Hallie in her place. I calmly reached down into my scout knapsack and grabbed a rope even though inside I shook more than the school bell when it was ringing to announce the end of class.

“What are you gonna do, you shrimp?” Hallie maintained her tough girl routine.
“Well, I thought I would tie you up again, without help,” I struggled to talk smoothly.
“Oh, surrrreeeee! After I twisted you into a knot yesterday?” she laughed at me.
“Yeah, I’m gonna practice my diagonal lashing, tie some logs, secure the mast, and, if necessary, pretend to be a 4H girl and hogtie the pig,” my Italian temper flared a little.
“What did you just call me?” I really lit the flame now, “I ought-a break your jaw!”
“Sorry, Hallie. Your filthy mouth deserves to be filled with your filthy socks.”

I kicked Hallie’s legs out from under her and quickly went to work diagonally lashing her arms just like a mast, only I moved with the swiftness and ease which I would not display last night because that was a teaching demo. I sat on Hallie's back to subdue her long enough that I made her arms useless to her. I tried not to be proud, but I am not lying when I say I had the best knot skills in the troop, including Mmes. Hughes and Pulaski.

Hallie proved just how filthy of a mouth she had. All of us girls except maybe Grace learned new words; I think Mrs. Pulaski learned new words because she was blushing. I had Hallie in my grasp now; she could toss me as she wanted without getting herself one centimeter closer to freedom. I simply pushed her back down to the earth and tied the two big kicking logs together at the ankles. The sun was shining brightly on us now for all to see.

“Get the hell off me!” Hallie yelled as if she could control me.
“I am not, Hallie. You’ve been nothing but a bully to me for as long as I can remember.”
“Because you’re such a perfect little thing, and we’re all sick of hearing Mrs. Hughes call on you as the model scout, you conceited b-tch!”
“Hey!” I spanked her on the butt, “I’m not conceited!”
“OW! Joyce Nerdi, I’ll do worse to you when I get out of this!” she said while I roped her up.
“Joyce will admit she has let some of it go to her head, but when you outright lie or start hurting people over it then you’re the problem,” Ruth-Ann crouched down by Hallie’s face.
“Get me out of this, you dumb-ss!” Hallie was really cursing up a storm.
“No!” Ruth-Ann was firm, “Joyce is imperfect, but she has done many nice things for me over the years unlike you. I wish we’d listened to her yesterday instead of gagging her.”
“Watch your mouth!” Isabella kicked dirt in Hallie’s face, “You’re a bad scout big time!”
“Girls, let Joyce handle her own confluct,” Mrs. Hughes reminded them.

I effortlessly belted Hallie’s arms to her torso using her belt. The belt went around her arms just above her boobs, whatever boobs a 13-14 year-old has. In a moment of ingenuity, I tied her arms to her waist and cinched it well just like tying logs, only her arms made a thin log and her trunk made a thick log. I took off her sneakers and her socks and wadded up the socks, just like Fiona had seen in a movie as she told us last night (get the feeling this was a bondage film?) to stuff in Hallie’s profane mouth before I used her bandana to hold those in there. I used my own bandana to blindfold her. A hogtie finished the binding of the pig.

“Bravo, Joyce!” and “You showed her” and “You go, girl!” were among the cheers that broke out when I stood up and dusted off myself after putting Hallie in her place. I did the right thing this time by saying I wasn’t just standing up for myself but for all of us and apologized for any pride, both outwardly displayed and secret, I’d had over the years. Each of my fellow scouts lined up and gave me some combination of kisses, hugs, and fives to celebrate my triumph. Of course, Mmes. Hughes and Pulaski were a bit perturbed by the sequence of events that had taken place this morning as Hallie had ruined their plans for a forest rope game that would have been much simpler and friendlier than this had been. It would have to wait for our next scout outing in another month.

I learned a lesson in humility during this sequence of events. It all never would have happened if I had been nice about everything and kinder to people besides my immediate friends. There was the silver lining, though, of it resulting in Ruth-Ann and I mending our relationship and seeing just how awful we could be. Halllie had been outed to be a genuinely self-centered jerk. Truth be told, going into that weekend, I would have laughed if you told me that in 2024 I would be as good of friends with Ruth-Ann as I am, some 16 years later, and that she’d be there for me when I went through the greatest tragedies and triumphs of my life.

Our little scout troop learned a new game that weekend, one that would bring us lots of love and laughs until we gradually went our separate ways in life. Ruth-Ann, Grace, and Fiona still call Ocala their home all this time later; we five, with Isabella included, had a lot of fun pranking the other girls and each other. When new girls aged into our group, we would give them a choice to join our little “League of Knot Lovers.”

Yes, there was fun to be had in binding and gagging each other, and there were troubles, too. We had resolved the Ruth-Ann issue, but there was still a Becky issue. Hallie walked on thin ice after this weekend. If there’s a sequel to my little story here, it will be about how Becky got reconciled, finally grew a spine, and found her own niche in the world of scouts; at least that will come first; the Becky story is also the story of how Hallie’s time as a scout came to and end. We weren’t adventurous; we just played rope games with little more than tickling involved. Our games were like the ties that happened in this story.

Yes, the heroines did live happily ever after.

THE END

[hafnermg]

Great story!! Any boyscout who thinks they are better arr in for a big surprise from these girls!