THE BUZZARDS COME HOME TO ROOST (2)
Trial By Combat
Blindfolds were removed and the prisoners were offered water by their mates and the first bout was announced. André and Phil were to arm-wrestle but, being new kids, they hadn’t met the “local rules” before. This was to be bound arm-wrestling. André had a mass of mid-brown hair and he was laid face down on the ground, still bare-chested following his capture, and his boots and socks were removed. Jamie cross-lashed his ankles, leaving his knees apart, freed his wrists and tied his left arm into the same rope that was securing his ankles thus leaving him in a partial hog-tie. Alex dealt with Phil, an intelligent, bright-eyed boy in spite of the fact that he was being treated in a very similar way. The two contestants were then placed right elbow to right elbow. Long Tom knelt and held their joined hands. “Take the strain. Go!”
Tied as they were it was very difficult for the wrestlers to apply much leverage but, after about a minute, André won the first point. By now with the warmth of the evening and the recent drought, both boys were covered in sweat-adhered dust and snorting quite a lot of it from their noses. Point two went to Phil. By now both boys were getting used to the situation and the third point went on for a good two minutes. André was now in the lead, two to one.
Just as André felt his left wrist freed and was about to celebrate, he found his right arm tied again leaving his left arm free. Phil was also re-tied and the two youngsters were helped into position to arm-wrestle with their left arms. Phil was better with his left arm than André was with his and he won two-one. Honours even. The two combatants were then untied completely and allowed a brief rest and a drinks break before the next event: the leg wrestling. Both boys lay on their backs, right hips touching and arms linked. Right hands were rested on opponents’ right shoulders and the count started, “One, two, three” and their right legs were raised to the vertical on each count. On “three” Phil tipped André over forcing him almost to do a summersault. Phil was used to this game; his older brother used to make him take him on. Experience counted and Phil was declared the winner after he had also won the second point.
André knew that he’d now be tied up until the others decided that he should be released. Phil, as winner, was allowed to do the tying but there was no shortage of advice from the older boys on both sides. André ended on his knees with his back against a small fir tree near the camp fire. His arms had been pulled above his head and his wrists fastened behind the trunk of the tree. They couldn’t touch so a short rope cuff had to be fashioned. By the time Phil had hitched the rope up round a handy branch, André was stretched quite tight and his ankles were cuffed behind the tree. There followed some discussion concerning whether André should also be gagged and whether his feet should be raised leaving just his knees in contact with the ground. Sam vetoed the gag on the grounds that he’d have to eat soon and Long Tom suggested that, as it was his first game and because he was so young, it would be too much to extend his torture too far.
Phil dressed and apologised to his friend for treating him like he had but pointed out that all’s fair in tugs and war. He also knew that André would have done exactly the same to him had their roles been reversed.
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It was time for the next contest. The competitors were prepared. Big Steve had his boots and socks removed prior to being untied from George. He was bound ready for arm-wrestling and laid in place while Budgie was released from Den and also bound. Big Steve suggested that he should remain blindfolded but most of the others thought that it wasn’t particularly fair when Steve already had the advantage of the longer arms. The result of the contest was never in doubt: Big Steve won two-nil with both left arms and right arms. There was no need to go to leg wrestling and Big Steve, with the usual helpful advice simply completed the hog-tie having drawn it tighter, and blindfolded his prisoner again prior to dragging him away from the wrestling arena.
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That left Den and George to fight. George was still wearing nothing other than his ‘lucky’ boxers, perhaps it was time to pension them off; they had seen better days. He only hoped he wouldn’t be dragged around in such a manner that they came down. By the time he had been prepared and his blindfold removed, Den was already in place. It dawned on Long Tom that, if the two oldest contestants arm-wrestled first, the spectators would probably go short of entertainment as, although the tall but skinny George had longer levers, Den had far superior strength and was expected to win easily. By common consent both boys were untied and the leg wrestling contest started.
George’s speed into action won him the first point but Den’s superior strength won him an unusually long second point. “One, two, three, aaagh” came from both boys in unison as Den went rolling across the ground. He was so surprised by George’s easy win that he had the good sportsmanship to congratulate him and shake his hand.
George’s relief was short lived as his feet were cross lashed, rather too tightly he thought, by his friend, Scott. He was laid down on his belly and his left wrist was bound close to his ankles. He was supple and was drawn very tightly into the bondage. Den suffered the same fate at the hands of his mate, Alex. Alex tried to pull him as tightly as George had been drawn but couldn’t get the less supple boy’s left hand quite so near to his feet. George protested but Long Tom said that Den must be more uncomfortable than he was so would he please stop whining like a girlie. Even in his current predicament, George still had his characteristic smile on his face. Well, it was worth a try.
The contest was as one-sided as the spectators had expected, Den won with his right arm two-nil and with his left arm two one even though Scott had pity on George and didn’t tie him quite so cruelly for the left-armed bout.
It was honours even but, with the contest to be decided by wrestling, George tried to concede. He could see himself being completely steam-rollered and could see no point in prolonging his agony. “It’s alright, I’ll be gentle. Honest.” lied Den. He intended to enjoy himself, not only was George a Commando in this game while he was a Guerrilla but George was a “Farmer Boy” in “real life” and he was a Sea-Scout. In spite of his suffering and the prospect of it’s being prolonged, that dimpled grin never left George’s face.
“Oh, come on, lads. I’m begging. Please!”
“Nope, sorry. You tried to escape – you have to suffer.”
Then Jamie had an idea. “Why not tie their hands behind them and then make them fight?
“Anything, please!”
“OK by you, Den?”
“OK by me, Jamie. I’ll still kick his arse!”
“OK by you, George?”
“Anything rather than being crushed by the Pie-man!”
Den didn’t mind his reputation as a trencherman, in fact he quite revelled in it. Nevertheless, he thought honour demanded a rejoinder along the lines of snapping the bean-pole without mercy.
The fighters’ ankles were freed and their wrists crossed behind them. To make it fair, Alex tied both boys’ wrists, cinching them firmly but not tightly enough to cause immediate pain. He’d learnt a lot from Action Man. His friend and mentor would have been proud of him. Just for security, Zac then covered the ropes with rather more gaffer tape than was strictly called for.
Den and George were then made to sit cross-legged on the floor facing away from one another while the rules were finalised. They didn’t get a say. The “ring” was to be anywhere between where the tents were pitched and the raised area at the end of the site where the camp fire was. Any fighter who went between the tents would have to kneel so that his opponent could take a free kick or two before he could get up. They would fight for ten minutes, not including breaks, and anyone who submitted would be subject to half an hour’s continuous tickling once he had been tied up even more restrictively. Needless to say, the loser stayed tied at the winner’s pleasure.
The usual bets were made. Would the stronger, big guy win? Would the more supple, longer limbed and quicker skinny kid triumph?
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It was agreed that Sam would referee. Any fighter too slow to break when Sam said so would start the next round not just kneeling but face down on the ground. Sam drew his boot over the ground and marked the scratch between Den and George.
“Ready, Den?
“Ready.”
Ready, George?
“Ready.”
“Come up to scratch.” Both fighters rose and faced one another as closely as they could. “Touch heads.” They did so gently and separated. “Ready. Fight!”
George and Den circled each other and George lashed out with his right leg. Den dodged it and kicked him in the arse. Needless to say, there was much vocal encouragement for both fighters, usually on Commandos v Guerrillas lines. George jumped forwards rather more quickly than he wanted to and Den tried to rake his feet from under him. Unfortunately for him he de-stabilised himself and, with his hands bound, was unable to stop himself and landed on his back. George trampled him on the belly and kicked him in his side. He knew what the others would think if he deliberately kicked him in the crutch and didn’t even try it.
Den just about had time to question George’s legitimacy between his cries of, “Die, Big Man, die.” before Sam called “Break.” George turned his back, took two paces forwards and knelt down facing away from his opponent.
Sam stopped the clock and gave Den thirty seconds to recover and kneel facing away from George. On the call of, “Ready. Fight.” both combatants stood and confronted one another again.
Den reckoned that, if he could keep manoeuvring, he would be able to kick the back of George’s knees forcing him to the ground. He got in several good kicks but George always managed to steady himself before Den could follow up. Then, as George staggered, Den used his weight and barged him to the ground. George lay face down and Den returned the trampling and kicking favours. Being trampled by Den was not a pleasant experience! Amidst the gaspings and “Aargh” noises, Sam could be heard calling, “Break.” This time it was Den’s turn to walk away and kneel. George’s ribs were sore.
Following a further thirty second break Sam announced, “Two minutes and ten seconds gone. Ready. Fight.”
There then followed a prolonged session of mutual kicking and missing with honours more or less even until Den got an accidental lucky strike on George’s nuts. Dressed as he was, George really felt that.
“Oh fuck, sorry mate.” said Den genuinely as George rolled on the floor gasping for breath in between squealed obscenities. Den walked away and knelt. George’s mum was a tolerant person but she certainly wouldn’t have approved of his language at this stage. Unable to grasp his aching bits, George rolled around and scrunched himself up trying to achieve the same effect.
As the laughter and chi-iking of the spectators started to subside, Sam offered George the chance to submit. Between the gasps and obscenities, the words “No way” could be heard. Sam decided that a longer break was called for and that Den should suffer some sort of handicap. Obviously the fall would not count and, once his olive green fatigues had been removed to leave him equally as vulnerable as George, wearing just his loose, fairly long boxer shorts, it was decided that he should start the next round already on his knees.
After about two minutes George got up and knelt down facing away from Den. “Four minutes, thirty –five seconds.” announced Sam. “Ready?” George nodded. “Are you sure?”
“I’m going to get the Pie-man. He’s just so asking for it. He’s a dead man.”
“Fight.”
Den accepted his handicap and George kicked him sideways by landing a good shot squarely to his shoulder. He was, understandably, still not moving quite as lithely as he had been previously and Den managed to roll out of his way and, after George had landed a few more good shots, he got to his feet. Den’s unintentional contact with George’s sensitive parts made him very wary of doing it again and he held back quite a bit compared to previous rounds. That made the current round rather prolonged but eventually bungled attempts at tripping one another left both boys on the ground and trying to kick one another. Sam called a break and both boys knelt facing away from one another waiting for the cue.
“Eight minutes, twenty-three seconds. Ready. Fight!”
Both boys circled warily. They both knew that the next score was likely to decide the competition. George was starting to move more freely again and, although Den was aware that he mustn’t kick George in the balls again, neither did he want to lose. Den landed several hefty kicks with the side of his foot on George’s arse but George nearly managed to trip him when he lost his balance and fell to the floor with Den on top of him. Being winded, George failed to get up before Den managed to do so. Just as Den was getting down to a serious trampling of his helpless opponent, Sam called “Break” and “Time.”
George knew he had lost but, in between the gathering of breath, he was still grinning and managed to say, “Well done, Big Guy. You win.” Den got down on his knees and touched heads with his former opponent.
“Well done, yourself, Twiggy.”
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Normally Den would have had the privilege of tying his vanquished opponent in any manner of his choosing but Long Tom pointed out that he had a forfeit to pay for losing the challenge following his speaking earlier on. Let’s face it: Den was stuffed.
Luke thought that it would be a good idea to tie the two boys together and the others agreed so Luke and Scott got down to business. Luke ordered Den to tuck his thumbs in and make fists. He’d “found” some gorilla tape (He was turning into an evil little bugger.) and bound it tightly round Den’s hands rendering them useless and then repeated the process with George.
In spite of the fact that George’s eyes were still sparkling and his face was still smiling, he pointed out that Luke had better watch his back on his way home from then on.
“Ooo, I’m scared.” Where there’s no sense, there’s no feeling.
Luke then helped his brother sit the two prisoners back to back and wrapped more gorilla tape round their necks. “Take it easy, Shithead,“ counselled Scott, “it’s only a game.” Luke still had a lot to learn but he did make sure that his taping was not dangerously tight.
George and Den had both made the mistake of wearing belts at the start of the game and now Scott was buckling them together. “Breathe in, Guys.” said Scott as he fastened the joined belts round their midriffs and pulled them tight drawing the boys very close together. The two brothers then decided to use the discarded neckers to fasten their arms to those of their fellow sufferer. The brothers had their work critically examined by the assembled company who decided that they had not done enough. Zac and Long Tom lifted the two bound boys, not without difficulty. Zac then took a short rope and tethered their right ankles not too tightly together before ordering them to kneel. That pulled the ankle rope tighter. The assembled company considered that to be better. Den and George begged to differ.
TBC