The School Bully's Punishment (multiple m/m) 9 Parts Complete

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Jason Toddman
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The School Bully's Punishment (multiple m/m) 9 Parts Complete

Post by Jason Toddman »

I'm not sure whether this properly belongs in the Adult section or the for everyone section. While no sexual activity is involved the revenge portion of the story is a tad extreme at times and may upset some people - especially as school-age characters are involved. Therefore I've decided to err on the side of caution; figuring it can be moved elsewhere if the admins decide it belongs there instead.



THE SCHOOL BULLIES’ PUNISHMENT


Chapter 1 - Captured!

William “Scuzzy” Daniels was without a doubt the worst bully that Danvers High School had ever had. He was not the largest boy in the senior class, nor the strongest, but he was the meanest by far and – with a black belt in Karate – the toughest by far as well. He was just over six feet four inches tall, with a swimmer’s physique and an athletic grace that would have won him a sports scholarship in any college had he cared about sports. But he was a vicious boy who cared about nothing but dominating those who were weaker and smaller than himself, which was about 99% of the student body of Danvers High.

But though virtually every student had either been a victim of his bullying or knew many others who had been, Scuzzy was never charged with an offense nor punished with even so much as a detention after school. Somehow he always managed to time his assaults upon hapless students (whether it was for their lunch money or just for ‘fun’) so that there were no teachers and few other students for witnesses. Also, he had a pack of cronies (it was inaccurate to call them friends as he cared little for them) who hung around with him and supported him just to avoid being victims of Scuzzy’s bullying themselves. For this reason, attempts by the few students large and strong enough to stand up to Scuzzy on their own were unsuccessful either in defending themselves or in protecting others from Scuzzy’s self-appointed gang.

Then Scuzzy made the mistake of bullying Vincent Garfield. Vincent was the new kid in town. Vincent was a mere freshman; a skinny kid perhaps 5’ 4” and weighing only 125 pounds and no match for Scuzzy on his own. He was quick to make friends among his school-mates, but they were no help to him and scattered in fright when Scuzzy demanded Vincent’s lunch money. Vincent refused and bravely stood up to Scuzzy as if he were the larger and stronger boy – and was immediately swatted like a fly.

But Vincent had a devoted older brother named Frank who was already a high school graduate and was an MP in the Marines. Frank was stationed at the nearby Marine base and visiting home when Vincent came home with a black eye courtesy of Scuzzy’s welcoming committee. When Frank found out the circumstances, he decided that Scuzzy was due for some payback. But for the sake of his brother’s self-esteem and those of his friends (and fellow victims of Scuzzy’s bullying), he decided that he could not do this himself; instead, he would enable Vincent and his friends to do it themselves.

For the following two weeks, Vincent and four of his friends in his freshman class (plus a couple of sophomores) met at Vincent’s house, where Frank gave them basic lessons in the martial arts. At the same time, the boys laid plans for teaching Scuzzy a lesson that he would never forget.

One Friday afternoon in April, Scuzzy was walking home alone after school, looking for anyone he could torment for an hour or two. It was the start of spring break and there would be no school the following week, and be wanted one last bullying session with a helpless freshman before most of his potential victims would be inaccessible to him during that period. The route to his home was well known and avoided by all of the other students by this time however, and so he was generally all alone for most of the way each day. Sometimes one or two of his cronies would walk home with him for a visit, but on this day Scuzzy was all by himself; just the way he preferred it. Well, unless a weaker kid showed up that he could corner and play with – in the same way a cat plays with a mouse – for an hour or two. But no kids had been foolish enough to let themselves get waylaid in such a fashion before or after school hours for months now.

Then, all of a sudden, Scuzzy felt a hard, sharp blow on the back of the head. He staggered (momentarily stunned) for a moment, turned, and realized that someone had thrown a golf-ball sized rock right at the back of his head! And there was the young brazen fool who had done it standing a mere thirty feet in front of him. It was Vincent Garfield, who must have sneaked up behind Scuzzy for the last minute or so until he was too close to miss beaning him with that rock.

Scuzzy glared at Vincent, who stuck out his tongue and gave him the finger! Scuzzy was already seeing red with the impact of that rock, and now he was insanely furious! He immediately charged forward to deal that cheeky brat a well-deserved beating, but Vincent was even faster than Scuzzy and ran away from him. Unwilling to let such a misdeed go without immediate retaliation, Scuzzy pursued the smaller boy with an angry yell and with no thought of anything except to beat his assailant to a bloody pulp.

Scuzzy expected Vincent to run to a place where there would be enough people around to give him temporary safety, but to Scuzzy’s amazement and satisfaction, the boy ran into a nearby abandoned lot in apparent panic. Scuzzy smiled grimly to himself. The lot was overgrown with weeds and small trees, and fenced in all around; the only way out was the way he had just gone in. Vincent was trapped and – once Scuzzy had caught up to him – would be at the older boy’s mercy with no one to see what happened or to hear his cries for help or mercy.

Scuzzy reached the open gate and saw his victim a mere fifty feet ahead of him – still running; apparently for dear life. Without pausing for thought, the vengeful Scuzzy charged right into the abandoned lot after him. Then, suddenly, Vincent stopped and turned to face his pursuer as if realizing the futility of flight and was making a futile stand just like the first time they met. With grim satisfaction, Scuzzy slowed down and walked toward the smaller boy with arrogant confidence. First he would knock the boy down and straddle his chest, beat on him until he begged for mercy, make him give Scuzzy his wallet, maybe force him to do something really humiliating like suck on his…

Still planning his fun for the day, Scuzzy was immediately tackled from behind by the six boys who had been patiently waiting for him right behind the fence. Before Scuzzy realized he was not alone with Vincent, he was lying face first on the ground and a heavy weight immediately settled on his shoulders. He briefly saw a pair of bare knees kneeling on either side of his head - just before a pair of hands latched onto the back of his head and pushed his face roughly down into the grass. All he could see now was a very close view of the grass beneath his face as a second weight settled onto his back and two of three others onto his struggling legs. A pair of hands grabbed his wrists and forced them together, and Scuzzy suddenly felt cold metal encircle his wrists at the same time he heard the clicking shut of a pair of handcuffs.

Terrified now, Scuzzy tried to struggle; but his face was still held firmly to the ground by the first set of hands while his handcuffed wrists were still being firmly held by the second. And now he felt more hands hold down his legs to keep them from thrashing around, and a sensation of tightness around his ankles and another set of metallic clicks in the same area told him that a set of leg-cuffs had now been locked there as well. Despite his increasingly hopeless position, Scuzzy began to swear revenge on whoever was doing this and continued his futile struggles.

The hands pushing down the back of his head suddenly grabbed his hair and pulled his head upward. Scuzzy had a quick glimpse of Vincent slowly walking toward him when a new pair of hands appeared right in front of him. They wrapped a cloth of some kind over Scuzzy’s eyes and then tightly around the back of his head. He was blindfolded! More scared than ever, Scuzzy continued to yell… and felt something soft and cloth-like shoved right into his open mouth! Whatever it was must have been wadded up, because it immediately expanded to fill his mouth entirely. Before he could spit out the thing, another cloth was tied firmly and securely over his mouth – effectively gagging him.

His unseen tormentors were giggling as they continued to hold him down. Suddenly Scuzzy felt ropes being tied tightly around his arms, wrists, ankles, knees and thighs all at the same time. Before long, he felt like a fly trapped inside a spider-web cocoon, and he was helpless to move a muscle from the neck down.

Scuzzy yelled incoherently into his gag, making a barely audible sound as he first demanded, and then begged for his release. But his muffled cries went unheeded as his captors continued to keep him pinned to the ground as they finished tying him. All this time they never said one word to him nor to one another; giving him no idea who had ambushed him other than Vincent.

The weights pinning him down abruptly left him – apparently at some silent signal unseen and unheard by him – and several sets of hands roughly turned him over. Then the weights settled back down upon him, leaving him totally incapable of movement. But though Scuzzy was expecting something awful to happen to him now, his unseen captors did nothing worse to him other than to keep him pinned down.

Suddenly the blindfold was partially lifted off of his eyes; just enough to enable him to see directly in front of him. Scuzzy looked up – now in terror rather than anger – and saw Vincent looking back down at him from where he was kneeling on Scuzzy’s chest. “I hope you’re comfortable,” Vincent told him. “You’ve harassed us all for long enough. Now you’re going to find out what it’s like when someone harasses you and won’t stop!”

The blindfold was replaced and Scuzzy gritted his teeth in expectation of a sudden beating, but still nothing happened. The boys said nothing further to him or one another, but simply held him imprisoned beneath their combined weight. Vincent apparently got off of him but his weight was immediately replaced with someone else’s. Scuzzy then heard Vincent talking at some distance away from him, but all Scuzzy made out were the words, “He’s ready! Bye!” He had apparently being using his cell phone to call someone - but whom? And ready for WHAT?!

After an unknown length of time, Scuzzy heard the sound of a vehicle drive up to the gate of the lot and stop. He heard a door open and close and then another door open. He heard some voices talking indistinctly a short distance away. Then the weights pinning him down disappeared. Unseen hands gripped him by my shoulders, arms, and legs and then lifted him up like an inert sack of grain. At this point Scuzzy’s blindfold slipped partially off his eyes, just enough to enable him to see the back of a large van sixty feet away from him but not any of the people who were carrying him straight toward the van. He caught a glimpse of Vincent talking with a young man about twenty years old who strongly resembled him, and then Scuzzy was slid right onto the floor of the otherwise empty back bay of the van.

Moments later several boys climbed into the back with him, and the back doors closed were behind them. There were too few seats inside the van for all six of them, but that didn’t matter to the other boys; they simply sat on Scuzzy as they settled in for the ride. All he could see now was a set of bare, skinny, hairless legs bracing his head and a set of brown shorts and part of a red shirt above them. He could not see any other part of the boy who sat on his chest; nor the faces of any of his other captors. Attempts to talk through his gag were ignored; no one even bothered to slap him to make him be quiet. It was as if he were nothing more than a mere unfeeling cushion that they rested on. Somehow, this was being worse than if they mercilessly pummeled him as he had expected. It was as if he was actually beneath their contempt for the moment and not even worth the bother to torment!

The van started up, and the helpless, thoroughly terrified Scuzzy was taken away to an unknown destination and an uncertain but undoubtedly unpleasant fate.


To Be Continued ---
Last edited by Jason Toddman 3 years ago, edited 7 times in total.
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Post by Xtc »

Thanks for this.
They all say boxer shorts are cool,
but little Speedos always rule.
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Post by DeeperThanRed »

Scuzzy really had it coming. I think I'll enjoy reading his predicament, haha. Thanks for sharing.
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Xtc wrote: 3 years agoThanks for this.
I sort of figured this one was right up your alley! :lol:
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Post by Msueta@2 »

Love this story can't wait to read chapter 2 .
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Post by bondagefreak »

Fantastic start, [mention]Jason Toddman[/mention]!
Really looking forward to reading the next part.
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Post by Jason Toddman »

bondagefreak wrote: 3 years ago Fantastic start, [mention]Jason Toddman[/mention]!
Really looking forward to reading the next part.
DeeperThanRed wrote: 3 years ago Scuzzy really had it coming. I think I'll enjoy reading his predicament, haha. Thanks for sharing.
Msueta@2 wrote: 3 years ago Love this story can't wait to read chapter 2 .
Thank you everyone. And now for Part 2.

Chapter Two - The Farm

Scuzzy tried to talk with his captors through his gag, pleading to be released. But all he could do was make small, incoherent noises - and all those did was cause one of his captors to slap him hard in the face and sternly tell him to keep quiet. Once Scuzzy noticed that they did nothing worse to him than to keep sitting on him when he stayed quiet, he desisted in any further attempts at communication as lay as quietly and as unmoving as he could manage. His captors then ignored him completely.

A couple of minutes after the van started, Scuzzy heard the musical tones of someone’s cell phone playing. Whoever owned it answered it with a terse, “Yes?” He apparently listened in silence to whoever had called him for a moment, replied with, “Cool! Yeah! We’ll be ready!” and then clicked shut his phone.

“Team two just bagged their target!” the same boy now said to the others holding Scuzzy down. “We’ll be picking him up in five! Let’s make room for him.”

The boys who had been sitting on top of Scuzzy got up off of him and rolled him from the center of the bay to one side of the van. This done, they made sure he was lying on his back and then sat down on top of him again – sideways though this time rather than straddle him as before. This time all sat with their full weight on top of him rather than relieving some of the pressure on their knees, making it even more difficult for Scuzzy to breathe. However, he dared not make a single sound in protest of this. The boy now sitting on Scuzzy’s chest was inviting another boy who was still standing to sit down on the one remaining free spot – and gently slapping Scuzzy’s face in the process. The boy declined, saying that he would give Scuzzy a break as long as Scuzzy stayed quiet.

Scuzzy now had more than enough incentive to stay as quiet as possible! He neither knew – nor would he have cared - that this was the probable intent of the invitation in the first place; he knew that the implied threat was quite real!

Scuzzy felt the van come to a halt and heard a small commotion outside. Then the van bay door was opened up, and Scuzzy heard several more boys talking among themselves outside while the others already in the van with him stood up to greet them. Although his blindfold had fallen off by now and had not been replaced, Scuzzy could not turn his head well enough to see out the door to find out what was happening.

Abruptly, a feebly struggling human form almost entirely wrapped in duct-tape was slid into the van and left to lay right beside Scuzzy. All Scuzzy could see through the mass of tape were a pair of eyes (wide open with fright), the hair on the top of the boy’s head, and a nose (breathing rapidly). However, the eyes and hair were enough for Scuzzy to realize who his fellow captive was: Anson; one of Scuzzy’s cronies and the closest thing to a friend that Scuzzy now (or had ever) had.

“Well, that’s two of them!” Scuzzy heard Vincent’s voice announce with satisfaction from outside the van as the door was closed again. “That’s two down and four to go!”

This alarmed Scuzzy. He had five cronies in all within his loose ‘gang’ who helped enforce his dominance over all the other kids in the high school. His captors obviously intended to capture them all, and perhaps take them to the same fate! And now, with his blindfold off and with daylight coming in through the doorway as well as the one small window in the side, Scuzzy could see his captors clearly for the first time. He was not surprised by now though that he recognized them all. Like Vincent, they were freshmen (with one or two he was sure were sophomores) that he had assaulted and taken lunch money (among other personal belongings) from now and then.

He even remembered some of their names. The skinny blond kid with the glasses was Fred. The short, freckle-faced red-head beside him was Ryan. The tall, black kid was named Chris. The Asian boy was named Fong. Scuzzy couldn’t remember the name of the handsome, athletic kid with the purple Mohawk nor the shorter black kid, but he knew he had bullied them many times before. Everyone here was a frequent and, in the case of Fred and Phuong, a favorite target of his. He had forced each of them to kneel in front of him and to suck on his…

Scuzzy suddenly realized that he might be in even worse trouble than he had thought. If these boys were after revenge and forced HIM to do the same things he had forced some of THEM into doing… well, he’d rather DIE first!!!

None of the boys who had been outside the van had entered the bay (other than the captive the others had just delivered), nor had any of those already in the van with Scuzzy left. Now however, Scuzzy’s captors split their attention between him and the new captive, leaving at most only three sitting on top of him rather than the four or five who had been doing so before. For Scuzzy at least, this was a slight relief. For his new companion in captivity of course it was something else, but Scuzzy never gave a thought to that. Knowing that communicating with his fellow captive was worse than pointless, Scuzzy now completely ignored him. Frantic attempts on Anson’s part to talk to Scuzzy were immediately punished with hard slaps to the face, and soon Anson lapsed into unmoving silence as well.

The other boys talked low among themselves as the van started up again and moved on to its (to Scuzzy) still unknown destination. Scuzzy was unable to make out most of it, but heard references to how Anson was captured in an ambush similar to his. He also heard one reference to where the van was going to: something about “the old farm.”

After what seemed like an interminable – and, towards the end, an increasingly bumpy – ride, the van came to a halt. Scuzzy heard the front van doors open and a voice calling to the other boys in back “We’re here!” The boys holding Scuzzy and Anson captive immediately got up happily. One opened the van door and jumped out alongside another boy, while two of the others picked up Scuzzy and carried him to the doorway. The two boys outside reached out and took Scuzzy off their hands and began to walk away with him somewhere. The other two boys then waited to help the last two boys carry Anson out of the van, and then all followed the boys carrying Scuzzy – one even ran up to come alongside to help the other two already carrying him

Scuzzy could not see where he was being taken to at first. All he could see was the van that had brought him here (Vincent and the young man were now standing beside it and closing the back doors), and nothing else but trees and tall grass all around. They were in the rural countryside somewhere; he could tell that much. There was not a house - nor any other people - in sight anywhere; at least at first. Then Scuzzy saw a large, well-kept farmhouse come into his limited field of view as he was carried along, but they were passing it by rather than approaching it. No one appeared to be inside it, although the lawn was well tended and the house itself recently painted and well maintained.

Scuzzy did see the barn at all until he and his captors were already entering it. It was a very large barn, with a second story loft and a stable with six empty stalls built in the rear of the main floor. Then Scuzzy got a closer look at the stables as they approached and realized that they had recently been remodeled considerably. Rather than to keep horses stabled, these stalls had been set up as prison cells to hold people! The doors had been outfitted with bolts, padlocks, and small barred windows to look like jail cells. Inside the first, unoccupied cell they passed, Scuzzy caught a quick glimpse of chains and manacles bolted into the wall! Scuzzy shivered with growing fright.

They passed a second cell, and Scuzzy’s shivers increased. That cell had an occupant! He was blindfolded, gagged, and his wrists and ankles fettered in such a way as to force him to stand upright against the far wall – his arms stretched above his head and bound tightly enough to give him almost no freedom of movement at all. Except for these, the prisoner wore nothing more than a set of black Speedos. However, although Scuzzy could not see the prisoner’s face, he could see his hair and body, and he was sure it was Conrad – another of his regular cronies - that he saw in there!

These kids really were out to capture not just him but his entire ‘gang’! Scuzzy briefly wondered if all three of his remaining companions would wind up captured here as he, Anson, and Conrad had been. Then he put it out of his mind. All that mattered to him was that HE was now a captive. Even if still free, his remaining cronies were unlikely to find out where he was or make any attempt to help him if they DID find out.

But none of the other cells were occupied, and Scuzzy saw all of them before he was taken to the very last one in line, while he caught a glimpse of Anson being placed inside one of the ones he had passed. The boys carrying Scuzzy set him gently down on the hay-covered floor and squatted silently around him; apparently waiting for something – or someone. His sole attempt to speak through his gag was immediately silenced with a quick, hard slap to the face. No one said a word to him.

A minute or two later, Vincent walked into the room; and suddenly Scuzzy realized that this boy was the ringleader for the others. The younger boy stood at the doorway and looked down at Scuzzy contemptuously for a moment before he spoke.

“I’m only going to explain this to you once, so listen carefully,” Vincent said, looking down at Scuzzy as coldly as he spoke. “This is going to be your new home for a while. Just how long is entirely up to you. You may think we brought you here just to hurt you, but we have a greater goal in mind than that. We are going to – as my brother puts it – ‘rehabilitate’ you. Think of this as a prisoner-of-war camp, work farm, and military boot camp all put together.

“In case you are wondering where you are; this is my uncle’s farm. It’s way out in the middle of nowhere, so one is going to find you out here. My uncle is in the hospital from a severe injury and will be gone for months. My friends and I have volunteered to keep the farm running for him this summer; even giving us money to hire some help. You’re going to be that help. You - and the rest of your gang, once they’ve been brought here – are going to help us run this farm by doing all the hard chores here and in general do whatever we tell you to. Do what we say without giving us trouble and we’ll treat you well; give you plenty to eat and drink, decent clothes, a better place to sleep, and minimal restraints. Any attempts to resist or escape will be punished. And believe me; we’ll be looking for ANY excuse to punish you and your cronies!

“You are going to work hard each day and earn your keep. You will follow all of our orders. Behave well, and we will let you go free at the end of harvest season. Behave not so well, and we’ll keep you here longer; maybe even right into next planting season. As I said, it’s all up to you!

“Right now, we will simply place you in maximal restraint and give you just enough food, water, and freedom of water so that you don’t suffer – much; though you WILL be bored for a while until you earn some recreational privileges. Earn some of our trust and we’ll lighten up on the lack of freedom and treat you better. Be a hard-ass and we will not only punish you but all your friends as well. You are responsible for their actions and they are responsible for yours; we’ll punish all of you for the actions of any of you. Is that clear?”

Vincent paused, apparently waiting for an answer. Scuzzy simply glared back in defiance, although he lacked the courage to attempt a swear word in addition to this under the unfavorable circumstances he faced. He wondered if this cheeky kid really had the nerve to do something worse to him than he already had just by kidnapping him.

One of the young boys squatting beside Scuzzy reached out and punched Scuzzy in the gut; causing the defiant bully to writhe in pain. “When one of us asks you a question, slave, you’ll ANSWER it! Promptly!” the boy virtually yelled at him as Scuzzy attempted to recover himself. The boy then grabbed Scuzzy by his hair and forced him to look up at a still patient Vincent. “Now answer his question! Is what he told you CLEAR?”

The look of defiance faded but not gone entirely, Scuzzy nodded his head once.

“Good,” replied Vincent in a voice still devoid of any rancor. “Your guards are now going to untie you and secure you to the wall. I strongly suggest you don’t give them any trouble, or THEY will have to lend a hand!”

“They” were the three other boys from the van who had just appeared in the doorway. All three were armed with baseball bats, and were rapping them meaningfully against the ground or one of the wooden walls of Scuzzy’s cell. Their intended message was quite clear: Please give them trouble so we can beat the living daylights out of you!!! We would enjoy doing that very much!

Scuzzy remained as still as he could as the boys proceeded to untie the ropes off of him from the waist up, but leaving his legs bound for the time being. The handcuffs were left for last. One hand only was uncuffed, and then Scuzzy was compelled to remove his shirt before lifting his hands above his head. His wrists were securely locked within the heavy manacles bolted into the wall there before the other handcuff was removed. Then the ropes cocooning his legs were removed and carefully stowed away.

Scuzzy still had on his pants and shoes and for a moment thought he would be allowed to keep them on. But his captors would not allow him to retain that much dignity. Before Scuzzy could react, one boy reached out to this belt, unfastened it, unbuttoned his pants, and quickly pulled them down to his ankles!

“Kick off the pants at once and we’ll give you this to wear,” said Vincent, holding up a set of black Speedos. “Give us any trouble and you can stay naked all night!”

With an angry movement of his legs, Scuzzy kicked off the pants and boxer shorts he was wearing. He resisted the temptation to kick Ryan in the face afterward as the boy took the Speedos from Vincent and put them on Scuzzy – rubbing the imprisoned bully’s legs and hips a great deal more than necessary while he did do. Being gagged as well as helpless, Scuzzy decided that voicing his outrage would be worth than pointless… but he could not resist another angry glare at the younger boy. Ryan simply smiled, reached out, and without a word pinched Scuzzy’s cheek like a mother pinching the cheek of a little child.

“We’ll leave you alone to get used to your new surroundings and accept your new status,” Vincent told Scuzzy. “We’ll be along to feed you and take care of your other needs a little later, after we get ourselves settled in. Enjoy your stay!”

With that, the boys walked out of the room, turning out the light that was inside as they went. Vincent closed the stall door; plunging the tiny cell into complete darkness. The last thing Scuzzy heard for a long while after that was the securing of a dead bolt, the placement of a padlock and its being clicked shut, and the footsteps and casual conversation of several boys as they walked away from his cell.

Scuzzy yelled in pure outrage once they were gone, but no one could have heard him now even had they stood right outside his cell. Even his fellow prisoners, by now equally-securely bound and gagged, were unable to hear him – or he them.

To Be Continued ---
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Post by Xtc »

Nice one. I hope they're not going to be nasty to him. ;)
They all say boxer shorts are cool,
but little Speedos always rule.
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Post by Msueta@2 »

I hope they are nasty to them .
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Post by Jason Toddman »

[/quote]
Xtc wrote: 3 years ago Nice one. I hope they're not going to be nasty to him. ;)
Msueta@2 wrote: 3 years ago I hope they are nasty to them.
:D
Hopefully I reached a nice compromise that will please you both; especially as I am not entirely sure xtc's comment was 100% sincere. :lol:
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Post by Msueta@2 »

When will you be posting chapter 3 ? Maybe include farts tickling in the armpits ballsack licking/sniffing gasmask Hitachi magic wand not all in the next chapter maybe in the next few chapters ?
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Post by Xtc »

Jason Toddman wrote: 3 years ago Hopefully I reached a nice compromise that will please you both; especially as I am not entirely sure xtc's comment was 100% sincere. :lol:
Such a hurtful lack of trust! :evil:
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Post by Jason Toddman »

Such a hurtful lack of trust! :evil:
[/quote]

I didn't say I doubted it. Just that I wasn't 100% sure of it.
Remember, I'm as Aspie. I'm not even 100% certain of my own existence - let alone yours! :geek: :mrgreen:
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Post by Veracity »

Jason, I always enjoy your work and I’m so glad to have you back posting regularly on this site.
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Post by blackbound »

*rubs hands* I feel like this is going to be good.
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Post by Jason Toddman »

Veracity wrote: 3 years ago Jason, I always enjoy your work and I’m so glad to have you back posting regularly on this site.
Thanks. :D
blackbound wrote: 3 years ago *rubs hands* I feel like this is going to be good.
I hope you're right, but as always 'good' is in the eyes of the beholder.

Chapter 3 - The Deputy Commandant

With an enormous sense of satisfaction, Vincent snapped shut the padlock that sealed Scuzzy inside his makeshift prison cell. The boys all around him began high-fiving one another and began to loudly tell one another what plans they had for Scuzzy and his friends, but Vincent quickly put to a stop to that. He didn’t mind his friends having their celebration or crowing about their victory within Scuzzy’s hearing, but he didn’t want any of the prisoners to have forewarning of his plans for them. Let them all find out together at the proper time. Besides, three of Scuzzy’s cronies were still free, and Vincent didn’t want to begin Scuzzy’s real punishment until all of Scuzzy’s gang could share in it together.

Assigning Ryan and Chris to stay in the barn and make sure the prisoners caused no (or got into any) trouble, Vincent left the barn. The other four boys followed Vincent to the farmhouse, where his older brother waited for him.

Frank was not only Vincent’s older brother but also the only family Vincent had ever known. Although he appeared to be only 20, Frank was over 30 and was already an adult when Vincent was born. Frank had begun college while Vincent was still in diapers and started his career in the Marines (in Officer’s Training School) at about the same time as Vincent had begun grade school. Rarely had they lived in the same house together as Vincent was growing up, and because of their difference in ages Vincent was almost like an only child. Frank was more like a rarely seen uncle than his older brother.

In the natural course of events the two might never have become particularly close had their parents not died in a car accident when Vincent was only ten. By this time Frank was a captain (O3) in the Marines, and he was well able to raise his younger brother without abandoning his military career. The two became close friends; almost as much like father and son as like brothers. Though Vincent made friends his own age easily, it was difficult to keep them as Frank’s military duties often required him to move to a new duty station every couple of years.

Vincent’s plan of revenge against Scuzzy and his bullying friends was possible because Frank was not only very protective of his younger brother but was now a major (O4) in charge of the MPs assigned to his Marine base. This farm they were on did not belong to Vincent’s uncle, as Vincent HAD no uncle - unless you counted “Uncle Sam”. This farm was on a military reservation attached to the marine base and was actually government property. The area of the farm was purely for the purpose of training military police; the entire area was surrounded by forest and totally enclosed by a chain-link fence topped with razor wire. However, the farmhouse itself and its environs had been abandoned until Frank was assigned to take charge of the training area. Having been raised on a farm himself, Frank thought it was a criminal waste that this farm should go untended.

Then, when his brother asked for help in dealing with school bullies, Frank came up with the perfect solution. He would help his brother and his friends by turning this farm into an unofficial boot camp for the bullies and rehabilitate them! As it was surrounded by fence and routinely patrolled by military personnel under his own command, Scuzzy and his fellow prisoners would find it very difficult to escape. As part of their training, the MPs were told that high school kids would attempt to ‘infiltrate’ the base and then try to escape. Any such kids caught away from the farm were to be immediately placed under arrest and brought directly back to a special holding area on the grounds until Frank brought them back to the farm. Such prisoners would attempt trickery in order to be released; even claim that they were being held on the farm against their will. All such wild talk was to be ignored and all prisoners gagged and restrained if they resisted arrest. As this was only an exercise, only necessary force was authorized.

Unknown to Scuzzy and his cronies, they really were in a highly secure prison – their hope of escape blocked not just by a few high school kids but also by highly trained military soldiers. True, those soldiers were as yet unaware of their role as prison guards, but their presence provided a level of security Vincent and his friends could not have provided. But the soldiers were only on the outer grounds and were never to come to the farm itself. So Vincent and his high school friends were the only guards Scuzzy and his fellow prisoners were to have any direct contact with unless an emergency took place.

Vincent entered the farmhouse. The other boys relaxed in the TV room downstairs while Vincent sought Frank in the semi-official ‘situation room’ on the second floor. Frank was seated in a chair watching a row of six monitors; each of which showed one of the six stalls-turned-prison-cells. Three monitors were still blank, as the cells they overlooked were unoccupied. The remaining three showed the cells occupied by Scuzzy, Anson, and Conrad; all clearly visible thanks to the infra-red cameras they were linked to. All three were passively standing still; chained to the walls of their cells and awaiting the pleasure of their new captors.

“I’m impressed, Frank!” Vincent told his brother with adolescent delight. “Even with two weeks to prepare and with a hundred MPs to command, it couldn’t have been easy for you to requisition the needed materials and labor to set this farm up as a prison without proper military authorization.”

“As it was, it wouldn’t have remained a secret for long if I wasn’t the highest ranking MP on the base,” replied Frank as he turned to face his younger brother.

“You’re also well respected by the men you command too” Vincent pointed out.

“Maybe, Vince” replied Frank modestly. “But all that won’t amount to a hill of beans if anything goes seriously wrong. I’ve set this all up just so that you could be the commandant of your very own prisoner camp! Don’t abuse the trust I put in you!”

Vincent said nothing. Frank of course was the real commandant, but Vincent would be calling all the shots for the most part. He would also be responsible for the care and feeding of his friends and allies as well as his prisoners, although Frank would be bringing in all the supplies. Frank was also arranging for every member of Teams One and Two to be ‘home-schooled’ at the farm for the remainder of the school year; leaving them free to stay at the farm from now through the end of summer vacation (and beyond if need be). From what Vincent had heard, this would be as much to the delight of most of their parents as it would be to themselves.

“You and your friends pretty have a free hand in how you take care of your prisoners,” Frank continued after a brief pause to think. “But remember; I’m the one responsible for everything that happens here. It is up to you and your friends that this does NOT turn into an Abu Ghraib situation! I agreed to set this farm up like a military boot camp because I honestly believe we can rehabilitate Scuzzy and his gang before they become dangerous criminals. But their punishment must be structured, consistent, and fair. You may as strict with them as you wish, but you must be equally consistent with rewards and punishments as well. Otherwise, all will come to nothing and we’ll be in serious trouble one day!”

“I understand that, Frank,” Vincent assured his brother. “I remember everything you’ve taught me about military-style discipline, and…”

“I’m willing to bet you plan to use some methods of discipline that the military would not condone within its ranks,” Frank interrupted with a serious look on his face. Then he paused, and smiled. “But that’s okay. Hit them when they deserve it. Humiliate them to your heart’s content – just as long as it is consistent and not just for revenge. Make them into your slaves; that’s perfectly fine. Make them lick your feet on command if you want to. But do not hurt them so badly that they need expert medical attention we cannot possibly provide them without some awkward explanations to the wrong people! And of course I don’t need to tell you that killing them is out of…”

Vincent looked shocked and disgusted for a moment, until he realized that Frank was only joking – sort of. Frank knew perfectly well that Vincent would never willingly allow any of his prisoners to be seriously harmed. But there were a great many ways to put a prisoner through sheer hell without seriously harming them – and Vincent and his friends together probably already knew or could improvise most of them. The only real doubt was whether Vincent’s friends would show the same self-discipline against unnecessary brutality to the prisoners as Vincent and Frank would. Vincent liked them all, but how well did he really know them? Still, without their continuing help, there was no hope of rehabilitating Scuzzy or the other school bullies.

Further conversation was cut short when Vincent’s cell phone chimed. He grabbed it eagerly, knowing he would be getting a call from only one person now. “Hello?” he answered the phone; sounding more like a child on Christmas morning rather than someone given almost unlimited control over several other human beings.

“This is Team Two,” replied a familiar boyish voice from the phone; as Vincent had thought, it was his best friend Mark. “We’ve found Target Number Five and Six together. We are ready to intercept. Request backup and receipt of cargo at Danvers football field.”

“We’ll be there in thirty,” replied Vincent gleefully before hanging up the phone. Frank, already aware of the gist of this conversation, was already out the door with Vincent close behind him. “Don’t start without us unless absolutely necessary.”

“Time to roll,” Vincent called to the others as they watched TV. With a few wordless cheers, all four boys followed closely after Vincent and his brother as they walked to the van. Vincent phoned the two guards in the barn to alert them to the developing situation before all six climbed into the van and headed out to their rendezvous.

When they reached the high school, the capture operation was already underway despite Vincent’s orders to wait; apparently the targets had been about to move on – perhaps to a less isolated spot. Team Two had six members with the arrival of reinforcements imminent while the two targets were alone, so it was decided by the team leader to move in. Team Two had the advantage of surprise and numbers, but Team Two was composed of five high school freshmen and one sophomore; none of them particularly large, strong, or athletic. On the other hand, the two intended victims were seniors and played on the high school football team; either one of them was almost the size of any two of their younger opponents. The victims were also more used to subduing people to get their way and they showed a very strong reluctance to let a bunch of underclassmen tie them up. Had Vincent and the others arrived much later, the outcome of the struggle might have been unfortunate for Team Two despite their apparent advantages.

But with the arrival of reinforcements, the tide of battle abruptly turned the other way. Seeing themselves facing a fresh crew of opponents, the two seniors attempted to flee, but their half-defeated opponents rallied, tackled their enemies’ legs, and impeded their flight long enough for Vincent and the others (with the exception of Frank, who was the designated driver) to join in the melee. Within moments, the sounds of struggle gave way to the sounds of the clicking shut of handcuffs; the unrolling, tearing, and application of liberal amounts of duct tape; the tying of rope around various limbs, and the increasing muffled sounds that might have been cries for help or mercy (either of which went unheeded).

Team Two was moderately battered and slightly bloodied, but all six of its members reveled in their victory as two bound and feebly struggling high school bullies were lifted off the ground and carted away to the waiting van. They could hardly wait until they could locate and capture the last remaining bully on their Most Wanted List so that they could join the others at the farm and begin their punishment!

The six members of Team Two resumed their diligent search for the remaining fugitive while the two freshly captured bullies were taken away to begin their life of abject servitude on the farm.

To Be Continued ---
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Post by RopingRingers »

I feel Stanford Prison Experiment vibes on the hap here lol however as someone who was bullied relentlessly, fuck them. I hope they are broken into tiny shattered pieces ;)
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Going well, my friend.
They all say boxer shorts are cool,
but little Speedos always rule.
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Great story Jason! The crew definitely deserves their punishment
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Post by Jason Toddman »

Johnsnow wrote: 3 years ago Great story Jason! The crew definitely deserves their punishment
Xtc wrote: 3 years ago Going well, my friend.
RopingRingers wrote: 3 years ago I feel Stanford Prison Experiment vibes on the hap here lol however as someone who was bullied relentlessly, fuck them. I hope they are broken into tiny shattered pieces ;)
Thank you everyone. :D



Chapter 4 - Discipline Training Begins

“Mummy” Harris was puzzled. Scuzzy and he were supposed to get together after school and smoke some joints at Anson’s house. But Scuzzy never showed up and it was obvious that no one was at home at Anson’s house either. So Mummy – so nicknamed because he loved to mummify kids in duct tape before tormenting them – tried to contact his buddies on his cell phone. He got no answers and left them both messages. Then he left messages for Conrad, Hal (also known as “Horror Hal”) and Bennett (also known as “Big Ben”) as well. Now, a full four hours after school had let out, he still hadn’t heard back from any of them. This was not too unusual when it came to Scuzzy, but all five going silent at the same time was a virtually unheard-of event up to now.

Concerned, Mummy began searching for them. None of them were home. No one he had asked (or interrogated) had seen any of them recently either, except for one older kid who thought he saw Hal and Ben walking into the football field an hour previously. Mummy went there to investigate but saw nothing to indicate whether they had been there or not.

Mummy was still standing there when his cell phone finally bleeped to indicate that he had a text message. He checked it; it was Scuzzy’s phone number! About time! Hastily Mummy checked the message:
Need to meet! Urgent!

Where are U? Mummy texted.

Scuzzy texted back: Football field.

Where meet U? queried Mummy.

He got back his answer quickly:
Go behind bleachers.
Stay there out of sight!
I meet U in 15.
Got big surprise!

Mummy signaled his acknowledgement and waited behind the bleachers as he had been told. He wondered what the surprise was but, knowing Scuzzy, it was certainly bad news for somebody!

It certainly was!

Mummy didn’t know he had been set up until several kids appeared at one end of the bleachers and began to run toward him. They were all smaller and younger than he was and singly would have been no match for him. But their numbers and apparent confident attitude as they approached him spelled trouble. Turning around, he decided to make a run for it – only to see several more kids approaching him from the other end! The space though the bleachers too impossibly narrow for him to escape through the side; he was boxed in and neatly trapped!

Nervous but putting on a bold front, Mummy watched as over a dozen freshmen and sophomores closed in on him – some of them holding baseball bats and others holding handcuffs, leg cuffs, and other implements for the evident purpose of binding and silencing captives... including one he was very familiar with: many rolls of duct tape!

One boy he recognized – Vincent, that was his name – approached Mummy. “We can do this the easy way or the hard way,” he coldly said to Mummy. “The hard way would be more fun for us. However, we’ll give you a chance. If you pick the easy way, lie down on the ground face down and put your hands behind your back. You have five seconds.”

Mummy was tough but he wasn’t stupid. He was down on the ground before Vincent even began counting to five. Before Vincent could have counted to five anyway had he bothered to, Mummy was already handcuffed, leg-cuffed and completely helpless. Then the duct tape was applied. Within ten minutes, Mummy Harris had become a mummy himself – just as he himself had done to so many of the kids with him at this moment. This was an irony that some of them apparently could not resist pointing out to him at least twice every minute; much to Mummy’s annoyance.

Mummy wondered if these kids were going to torment him in some of the ways he had done when he had them helpless, or if they had something else in mind. But all they did after mummifying him into immobility was to gag and blindfold him. Then several of them picked him up and carried him off into a waiting vehicle of some kind. He was slid into the cargo bay of a van, where most of his now-noisy and jubilant captors joined him. It was crowded inside the van by the time they had all climbed inside with him. They laid him on the hard floor on his back and he could tell that several of them were sitting on him, but his feeble struggles and protests did nothing except make them laugh and begin to slap him. Only when he lay there quietly and ceased his futile resistance did his captors desist in tormenting him (although several still sat on him).

Although he could not talk or hear very well, Mummy learned how these snotty kids had trapped him. Apparently they had captured Scuzzy earlier in the day, and one of them had come up with the idea of using Scuzzy’s cell phone to lure Mummy into a trap. Now he was being taken where Scuzzy and his other four missing friends were being held captive!

It was a long and uncomfortable ride. It was a nightmare when it got very bumpy toward the end, because every time the van hit a bump the kids sitting on him wound up unintentionally bouncing on him too! Mercifully, they didn’t elect to begin doing that to Mummy on purpose, even though he clearly heard one boy suggest it! Apparently as long as he didn’t try to resist they wouldn’t make him suffer unnecessarily; which was the only bit of encouragement Mummy got for the entire ride.

Finally though, the van came to a halt and everyone got out of the cargo bay. Mummy was hauled out and carried to the inside of a large barn out in the seeming middle of nowhere. He was taken to a horse stall modified into a jail cell, released from his mummification, compelled to strip, and given a set of Speedos and nothing else to wear. Then he was shackled hand and foot to a wall and left alone for a while, locked inside his dark, silent, and lonely cell.

He was left alone for an unknown time when two of his youthful captors returned. Instead of the usual clothes they had been wearing when they had captured Mummy, they now all wore military uniforms – either U.S. Army or the Marines, Mummy thought. One boy had a dog’s choke collar and leash in his hand and tied it on him. “We’re taking you outside to get fed and have a restroom break,” one of the boys told him. “Behave and you’ll be okay. We won’t hurt you if you co-operate with us. Try to be a tough guy and resist and you’ll be punished. Nod if you understand this.”

Mummy nodded his head; seeing no point in doing otherwise under the circumstances. At least they hadn’t actually hurt him at any time yet like he would have were their relative positions reversed.

The other boy unlocked the shackles holding his wrists to the wall, but leaving them locked onto his wrists. Mummy’s wrists were held in front of him when a chain was run around his middle, looped through his leg cuffs, and then through his wrist shackles. The chain was pulled taut and padlocked shut, preventing him from moving his wrists away from his middle. His ankles were then also released from the wall but still hobbled together so closely he could not move much more than a foot at a time. He was now able to move to where he was compelled to go, but only slowly. He was still entirely helpless.

Mummy was led out of his cell, where he could see several other boys in military uniforms standing around, all apparently alert for trouble from him. Two of them were with Anson, who was being led into the barn as Mummy was led out. The two exchanged quick glances and gave muffled cries through their gags but were given no chance to attempt any communication. Mummy’s captors hustled him out as fast as he was able to move his feet along.

Mummy was taken to an outhouse, where he was allowed to do necessary business with one hand freed (the other still locked to the chain around his middle. The outhouse had no door but he was given the semi-privacy of having his guards stand to either side out of sight while he did what he had to do. As there was no chance he could get away anyway, they allowed him this simple courtesy more out of a desire not to be grossed out than because they cared what he thought. Although standing there and watching him would have been more humiliating for their captive, it was decided that such unpleasant things as making it harder to use the outhouse (physically as well as psychologically) could be reserved for special punishments only.

After stepping out of the outhouse, Mummy was taken to a water pump where he could wash himself with a small wet towel. Then he was given a small cup with which to drink all the water he wanted and a peanut-butter and jelly sandwich to eat; not exactly high cuisine but he was hungry enough (and just smart enough) not to complain. He was offered no seconds and was just proud enough not to ask for more. Once he was finished, his briefly freed hand was shackled again.

Mummy was then taken for a short walk around the barn for exercise. Just about the time it was getting dark outside, he was taken back to the barn. Inside, he saw all five of his fellow captives assembled there. All five were kneeling upright on the hay covered floor facing the front of the barn, with their wrists and ankles locked together and with a guard on either side of each captive to force them to remain in this position. Mummy was taken to a position next to Anson (at the right end of the line), where he was compelled to kneel as well and face the front of the barn as the others did. His bonds were adjusted so that he was soon unable to rise from his kneeling position, and his guards stood to either side of him to keep him upright.

Mummy scarcely had time to wonder what this was all about when Vincent, accompanied by several other uniformed boys, entered the barn from the main entrance and faced them all. Vincent was also dressed in a uniform, but his was decorated with medals of some kind and he wore a bright blue sash on his arm – making him stand out from the others.

“I will get right to the point,” he told his six prisoners. “You are now residents of our rehabilitation farm. You have been brought here to learn how to be productive and socialize with other people. To this end, you will now follow all orders given to you by anyone in uniform. Obey and be productive and you will be given privileges; including better food, warmer clothing, recreational items such as a radio to listen to, real rooms with decent furnishings; you get the idea. Disobedience, disrespect, and rebelliousness will be punished. With minor infractions by any of you, only the guilty one will be punished. Major offenses such as escape attempts by any of you will lead to punishment for all of you; particularly offenses committed by your leader.”

Vincent fell silent. The six prisoners simply knelt and stared at him. As they were all still gagged, there wasn’t much else that they could do in any case.

“I think a little demonstration may be in order at this point,” continued Vincent. He nodded quietly to the two boys who flanked Scuzzy. They immediately hoisted their captive up the shoulders, dragged him forward, and set him kneeling down in front of Vincent. At a silent nod from the deputy commandant, Scuzzy’s gag was immediately removed as well.

Scuzzy did not appear to be very grateful; he began swearing and threatening Vincent.

“Be quiet, and do not speak until ordered,” Vincent told him firmly.

Scuzzy simply ignored him and began to swear even more loudly.

At a nod from Vincent, one of Scuzzy’s guards abruptly grabbed the captive by the shoulders and forced him down kneeling low to the ground in a forced salaam. This action caused Scuzzy’s buttocks to rise a foot or so into the air, leaving it fully exposed and vulnerable when the second guard took what appeared to be a riding crop and began to beat Scuzzy’s posterior with it. Scuzzy yelled and tried to struggle, whereupon two guards who had no prisoners of their own to be responsible for rushed forward to aid the two already flanking Scuzzy. With their aid Scuzzy was rendered hopelessly immobile and totally vulnerable to his punishment as the guard continued his vigorous strokes.

Finally Scuzzy’s yells of hatred and outrage became whimpers of fear and pain, and the guards ceased his beating at a gesture from Vincent.

“Behave and do as I say and I’ll leave you be,” said the younger boy. “Otherwise I’ll make an example out of you as a lesson to the others.”

Scuzzy glared up at Vincent, regained some of his bravado, and unwisely told Vincent an impossible thing to do to himself. This defiance cost him another round of whipping on his already sore and bruised bottom.

“Normally, the rest of you will not be asked to anything more onerous than to perform a full honest day’s work doing ordinary farm chores,” Vincent loudly announced to the other five prisoners assembled there. “Unless you are being punished for a valid reason, we will not tell you to do anything outrageous or degrading; unlike what you have done to us from time to time. But you MUST learn discipline, and so for now Scuzzy will be an exception. Watch, and reflect what happens to those of you who are disrespectful and do not immediately follow orders.”

Vincent walked over to stand directly in front of the still kneeling Scuzzy. “Kiss the tops of my feet,” Vincent commanded the bully, pointing to his polished black shoes.

Scuzzy refused in no uncertain terms – uttering as many more profanities as he could. Then two of his guards began to whip him with riding crops; not just on his behind but his back and legs as well. Scuzzy remained defiant for as long as he could, but in the end he realized that any moral victory he could possibly achieve was as fruitless as it was impossible. After a full five minutes of relentless beating, Scuzzy finally gave in and did as he was told.

“Now you all share the punishment for Scuzzy’s defiance,” announced Vincent to the others. “Each of you prisoners will kiss the feet of each of your two guards. Those that do will be immediately taken back to their cells for the night and left alone to think and sleep on it. Those who do not will remain out here for more discipline training…”

No one else wanted any more of that! Within five more minutes the five remaining prisoners had followed their orders and were put back into their cells for the night. This time however they were not forced to stand as they were before. All were shackled in such a way that they could lie down on the hay lining the floors of their cells and try to get what sleep they could. Most were too afraid to sleep for a long time.

Scuzzy remained outside his cell for further disciplinary training.

To Be Continued ---
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Post by RopingRingers »

Huh, surprising. I was actually sort of expecting the final one to be the one that got away, add a variable to the story lol looks like nobody escapes from Vincent's Vigilantes 😉😂 interesting to see Scuzzball's defiance be broken down - somethin' tells me he'll be the main troublemaker at boot camp lol
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Post by Jason Toddman »

RopingRingers wrote: 3 years ago Huh, surprising. I was actually sort of expecting the final one to be the one that got away, add a variable to the story lol looks like nobody escapes from Vincent's Vigilantes 😉😂 interesting to see Scuzzball's defiance be broken down - somethin' tells me he'll be the main troublemaker at boot camp lol
You may be right. :D

Chapter 5 - Scuzzy Hangs Tough

When the other prisoners were taken back to their cells but he was left to kneel in front of his tormentors, Scuzzy knew that he had a rough night ahead of him. In the back of his mind, he knew that he could make it much easier on himself if he simply did whatever his captors told him to do, but his stubborn pride and his inflated sense of importance simply would not allow to do thus – or even to consider it momentarily. He knew these snot-nosed kids wouldn’t dare to *really* hurt him, and so he decided he’d show them how a *real* man faces adversity in the presence of his enemies.

Even when one of his guards took a set of handcuffs and used it to fasten his leg cuffs together to the set of handcuffs he already wore – effectively hog-tying him – Scuzzy was feeling defiant. Already forgotten was the beating he had taken just a few minutes before. Those kids hit like girls! They’d hardly left a mark on him. If that was the worst they could do, he’d show them that he could take whatever they could throw at him.

“Still defiant, huh?” asked Vincent, correctly reading the expression plainly written on Scuzzy’s face as he squatted down in front of the still kneeling prisoner. “I’ve heard a lot about you from the other kids, Buzz. How you like to rob kids of their lunch money. How you beat them up just for fun. Some have even told me about how you and your friends would waylay a kid, tie him up, drag him off to some lonely spot somewhere, and just torture him for hours in ways too sickening to describe. Oh, you never harmed anyone enough so that they’d need to go to the hospital… because then the police could get involved. By the time you finally let them go they were so scared and desperate they wouldn’t go to the police on their own either for fear of more of the same. You and your cronies have started quite a reign of terror in this town, Buzz. But it’s over now. I...”

It was at this point that Scuzzy unwisely acted on his defiance of all this by spitting in Vincent’s face! One of his guards acted quickly enough to spoil his aim however, and pushed him backward just as Scuzzy was launching his loogie. This caused Scuzzy’s wet missile to land upon his own face rather than hit its intended target. Before Scuzzy could try a second time, he was wrestled down onto his back by several of the boys that surrounded him. One boy sat astride his chest pinning Scuzzy’s shoulders with his knees while another boy in front of him facing the other way braced Scuzzy’s head with *his* knees. Together they forced a ball gag into Scuzzy’s mouth. The boy bracing Scuzzy’s head got up, while the one on his chest remained there. In fact, the second boy proceeded to step behind the first and sat down behind him on top of Scuzzy’s belly to further immobilize the still-struggling bully.

“Struggle all you want, asshole,” the first boy told Scuzzy with a grin as he gave the prisoner’s nose a few flicks. “I’m quite comfortable sitting here!”

“Me too,” agreed the second boy. “You got a nice soft gut here, Scuzzy. It’s nice and bouncy, too!” As if to prove his point, he began bouncing on Scuzzy, which did nothing to improve the fallen bully’s disposition. He tried to struggle, but - bound as he was and pinned beneath the weight of two boys not that much smaller than he was – merely succeeded in wasting his energy.

“Go ahead, and tire yourself out!” said the boy on Scuzzy’s chest as he began to slap his prisoner’s face. He didn’t put much strength into it, for he wasn’t trying to hurt Scuzzy but merely to humiliate him. His slaps barely even stung at first, but he kept it up without pause or let up, driving Scuzzy into further frenzied – and futile – efforts to get his young tormentors off of him. The indignity of being face slapped like this in front of all the other boys was far worse to him than the pain he’d have suffered had his tormentor walloped him as hard as he could. They were all laughing at him!!!

Scuzzy went berserk. Red in the face from his exertions rather than the face slaps, Scuzzy writhed and thrashed with all of his might. He sought to throw his assailants off of him, somehow get free of his bonds, get to his feet, and either defend himself or flee.

He was not successful in any of these endeavors. All he got from his increasingly feeble efforts was exhaustion, pain from where his bonds bit into his limbs, more pain from the face slaps (which were considerably harder now), and the derisive laughter of most of his tormentors. Vincent was the only other boy present who did not laugh; he merely silently watched the proceedings with a mixture of pity and contempt on his face until Scuzzy was too tired to struggle any further.

“That’s enough,” he told the two boys who were sitting on Scuzzy. “Get off him!” The two complied at once, leaving Scuzzy to roil onto his side and try to catch his breath as well as he could while ball-gagged.

“Since you like to make a spectacle of yourself, I’ll indulge you,” Vincent told Scuzzy. “Maybe once you’ve had more of a taste of what it is like to be helpless and tormented by others yourself, you won’t be so eager to bring punishment down on yourself.”

Scuzzy was taken to the center of the barn’s interior, where a special set-up had been prepared especially for him. A length of stout chain ending in a thick metal tow-truck hook was lowered from a pulley suspended from the ceiling, and the hook snagged into the handcuffs that hogtied his hands and feet together. A second chain was wrapped around his middle and also snagged onto the hook. A third chain was wrapped under his arms and then also connected to the hook. A fourth was wrapped around his knees and its ends likewise connected to the hook. Then that great chain with its hook was pulled up – and Scuzzy found himself suspended by his bonds several feet into the air.

Had Scuzzy been suspended by any one of his bonds alone, he would have suffered great pain in almost no time at all. But Vincent was not cruel enough to do that to him. By being suspended from several portions at once- each bearing only a fraction of the load of his body weight – Scuzzy was far from comfortable but was not suffering too greatly from the experience either.

At least, not directly.

However, he was now the subject of every guard boy’s attention. Like a prisoner locked in stocks during the Colonial period of America, Scuzzy was now vulnerable to all the abuse his captors chose to heap on him. And they heaped plenty. His face was slapped; he was punched and pinched in random place at random times. Someone even began to connect large clothespins (the kind with the hard, pointy teeth) to his nipples, ears, and other tender portions of his anatomy. Before long, Scuzzy felt like he was being eaten alive by half a hundred piranhas!

And they threw things at him! Not hard, painful things like rocks, but soft, squishy things like rotted tomatoes, rotten eggs, spoiled melons, and other garbage. Before long, Scuzzy stank almost as badly as if he had lost an argument with a skunk!

Worst of all, they continued to laugh at him and make fun of his situation. He would rather have been beaten with rocks and clubs than endure that tormenting laughter, but they did not beat him with anything harder than their own fists (and even then not hard enough to hurt; only to humiliate). They slapped him and laughed at him for a long while, and then left him alone to hang there to think.

It was difficult for Scuzzy to get any rest under these circumstances even were his captors to let him. But they would not let him; any time he closed his eyes for more than a few seconds, they closed in on him and slapped him and shook him until he was wide awake again. They would not seriously hurt him… but they would not let him get any rest either.

Eventually the mosquitoes began to notice him. In fact they took a great interest in him. So did the flies, thanks to all that garbage he had been pelted with. Before long Scuzzy’s head was like the nucleus of an atom, surrounded by a hundred electrons all circling around his head. There was even a hornet interested in him at one point, and a bumblebee at another; and eventually a few wasps joined the insect brigade and began to sting him. Scuzzy’s captors did nothing to interfere with any of this, but merely watched his ordeal with sardonic smiles on their faces. Scuzzy tried to shake off his miniature assailants, but his face and upper body were soon covered by bloody bug bites where his gag and his bonds did not protect his skin.

Scuzzy had a long sleepless night ahead of him.

Most of his guards eventually went away to get some sleep inside the farmhouse, but two boys were posted to keep an eye on him and to occasionally check to be sure the other prisoners were safe and secure. The guards made no further attempts to torment him directly but did nothing to ease Scuzzy’s sufferings from the insect assault either. Their continued attention was, if anything, even worse than what the bloodthirsty bugs were doing to him.

Scuzzy swore silently to himself that he’d escape from this awful situation, and when he did, he’d wreak his revenge! Even under these conditions, it had not yet penetrated his conscious mind that his chances of eventual escape were about as great as his suddenly sprouting wings and being able to fly away with them to Heaven. He was still certain that he only needed a chance to get away and get his revenge somehow.

And so, despite his continuing ordeal, he remained as defiant and as self-assured as he was the moment before Vincent’s companions had ambushed him in the abandoned lot.

--to be continued --
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Johnsnow
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Post by Johnsnow »

another great chapter jason!
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blackbound
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Post by blackbound »

I guess he'll be learning the hard way, exactly as I hoped :D
RopingRingers
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Post by RopingRingers »

I wait with a mixture much like Vincent's - pity and contempt. Wonder how long till he cracks.
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