THE LAND FARMERS AND THE SAILOR BOYS (multiple m/m)

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. . . and I hadn't even noticed!
They all say boxer shorts are cool,
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I see things... ( with a Sixth sense kid's " I see dead people" voice :lol: )
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Post by harveygasson »

I've said it before and I'll say it again....amazing story!!! Great job as ever [mention]Xtc[/mention]
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Thank you. Believe me: such reassurances are valued.
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THE LAND FARMERS AND THE SAILOR BOYS


The Teams Return.


It was just about one o’clock when the radios crackled: “GP to Marky Mark, are you receiving me? Over.” By the time Budgie had hit the ground floor and headed for the door Mark was already on his way answering the call.

“Marky Mark to GP, come back.”

“We’ve just crossed the Hashley Ford, over.”

“Understood, supper’s on, Marky Mark out.”

That was the last thing Sam’s team wanted to hear. They had wasted time trying to take a short cut through the Crackford Bog. They had to back-track and contour round it costing them about 20 minutes instead of saving the same amount of time using the direct route. Not even treachery could save them now. Sam thought that, perhaps, he shouldn’t have taken part after all.

Mark appeared in the doorway wearing just his black boxers. Even by the light of the Tilley lamps he looked impressive like that: nearly two metres tall, perfect posture and with perfectly defined musculature. Budgie and Tarzan thought how much they wanted to look like that when they were Mark’s age. Mark headed for the galley, re-lit the boiler and prepared the mugs.

Supper was hot chocolate with milk and squirty cream, fresh golden syrup cake and custard. The biscuits weren’t any old rubbish either; some of them had faces on them!

After about fifteen minutes Sam’s team called in from the ford and there followed some very non-radio-protocol language between the teams.

“GP to losers. GP to losers. We can see the Log Cabin. How are you doing? Over.”

“Go fuck yourself.”

“You’re supposed to say “Over.” when it’s my turn to speak. Over.”

“OK, now go fuck yourself. Over.”

“Winners to losers, winners to losers, don’t forget to let us know when you can pay off the bet. GP out.”

Shortly afterwards Evan, Action Man & GP arrived whooping and triumphant at the Cabin door. High fives all round and many self-congratulatory remarks were quickly superseded by choruses of, “The three of us are magic, the rest of them are tragic, La – la – la – la, La – la – la – la – la.” as they stripped their muddy clothing off by the heat of the fire leaving them in just their boxer shorts. Several old fashioned clothes horses were then positioned in the heat and the smelly, mud-spattered garments draped over them. What with the combination of adolescent sweat, pony crap, cow-shit and bog, the smell of a poorly civet seemed to fill the Cabin; but, in the words of the old Caucasian proverb, “A fart has no nose.”

By the time the clothes were hung out to dry, Mark had made the hot chocolate and custard and supper was served. Action Man and Evan were happy to hang around in just a change of boxers, ready for bed; GP could never take to that. He always complained about having to sleep between the other two when they were “naked” so he put on some clean trackie bottoms and a t-shirt.

Personal hygiene that evening could be best described as cursory. A quick trip to the galley to clean hands and faces and to give a quick mopping of the armpits was the most anybody bothered with. Any residual smell was combated with generous applications of deodorant. Readers with a strong constitution are invited to imagine the effect of the resultant combination of odours. And I haven’t even mentioned the bare, unwashed feet. Ah, the delights of Scouting!

Not long afterwards, the other team arrived to be greeted with more singing and derision. They were in no mood for it! They went through the same routine except for T-Boy who had tripped and measured his length in the Hashley Ford, you know, the bit where the cattle gather. It took some courage to go out to the “shower” and use it at that time of the morning but afterwards he was probably the only one who didn’t smell like the inside of a camel’s jockstrap in high summer.

After supper, during which the “guards” obviously deserted their posts to join in, the Sea Scouts started to drift off to turn in for the night.

T-Boy suggested that he was ready to pay-off his bet. No-one would want to get up very early (except, perhaps, the three younger boys, who could easily do so, and the hostages, who couldn’t) so he suggested that Action Man tie him up overnight and one of the guards could untie him at about nine o’clock in the morning so that he could start breakfast. He would then do all the washing up and galley cleaning and, when his work was finished, he would submit to being bound until two o’clock.

The offer was accepted. The others needed T-Boy to prepare their food and, if it seemed like he was getting off lightly, they didn’t really care.

The three guards returned to their posts and the others went out to the Icelandics leaving T-Boy and Action Man to sort things out between them.

T-Boy was tall, strong and rather puppyish looking and he was only just about adequately contained in his black mini-briefs.

Like Action Man, T-Boy didn’t always get his fair share of being tied because of his value to the others so he was more than prepared to pay his debt. “Please Sir, where do you want me?”

Action Man told T-Boy to bank up the fire and put some more logs on, which he did, and then to put his wrists behind his back which he also did. It was then that it dawned on him that he was going to be tied up in front of the fire, which was good and between the racks of smelly clothing, which wasn’t!

Acton Man knew that, under the circumstances, T-Boy would not try to escape but he knew that, out of respect, he would have to tie him securely. Taking one of his soft 13 mm ropes Action Man doubled it and followed his usual routine: first he passed the bight upwards between T-Boy’s crossed wrists and his back and fed the free ends through the bight. He pulled the rope around T-Boy’s wrists and added three more turns. He then passed the free ends in opposite directions between his prisoner’s writs and added two more tightening loops, which were not as strict as usual, before tying off and leaving himself with lots of spare rope.

With Action Man’s skill, this tie in itself would probably have been inescapable in the given time but he was warming to his task. He took another rope, doubled it, tied a blood bight and bound T-Boy’s arms to his torso just below his chest. He used quite an elaborate technique that he wanted to experiment with just to see if it worked. The victim’s arms weren’t just clamped to his torso but two loops were wound round his right arm, leaving the bight free, before the rope was passed across his back and looped twice round his left arm drawing his arms somewhat closer. The rope was then returned to T-Boy’s right arm, looped round twice again and returned to his left arm for two more loops before being passed in front of his body and threaded between his right arm and his torso. Action Man pulled tight but T-Boy didn’t wince. His arms were now effectively immobilised. The rope was then passed across his body once more and was threaded between his left arm and his body and was returned, threaded through the free bight and tied off.

T-Boy stood stoically, appreciating the artistry but he was aware that, if he had wanted to, Action Man could have cinched his roping far tighter than he had even though he was now capable of hardy any movement in his arms.

“On your belly!”

T-Boy got down and raised his crossed ankles. Action Man took pity and told him to uncross them. He tied his ankles together, moved up to just below his knees and tied again and then again above his knees. By this stage T-Boy was glad he was face down, especially dressed as skimpily as he was!

Action Man decided that he should tie T-Boy’s big toes together so he took the lace out of one of his boots and did so. T-Boy thought he knew what was coming next and waited to have his toes drawn towards his knees with the rest of the bootlace but Action Man spared him that.

The free ends of the rope tying T-Boy’s wrists were simply tied around the rope tying his ankles and pulled tight enough to stop T-Boy straightening his legs and leaving his feet about 30 cm off the ground. By now T-Boy would have been more comfortable lying on his side but he thought he might delay that until after Action Man had left!

Action Man went for the gaffer tape and told his prisoner to lift his head. A few turns later and T-Boy’s eyes and ears had disappeared. “Right, that’ll do, Mate. See you in the morning.”

“No, you’ve got to gag me too.”

I can’t do that and leave you all night.”

“Please, if you don’t, the others will say that I got away with it. In any case, if there’s a problem, I could make enough noise by crashing around to waken one of those little kids. They probably won’t go to sleep in any case.”

Action Man went over to the “toy box” and found an old neckerchief. He held it by opposite corners, twirled it round and laid it on the table. He wrapped the ends around one another five times and pulled tight. That left a sizeable knot in the middle of the fabric. “Open wide.” So saying, he fitted the knot into T-Boy’s mouth and tied it as tightly as he could behind his neck.

“Enjoy”, said Action Man as he patted T-Boy on the head before heading for bed.

Once his tier had gone, T-Boy spent some time pleasurably rubbing himself against the floor before turning onto his side to get some sleep.


TBC
They all say boxer shorts are cool,
but little Speedos always rule.
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Post by MaxRoper »

Your descriptions of the ropework are excellent and easy to visualize, as usual.
T-Boy is my kinda guy.
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Post by Xtc »

He'd keep you well fed. Last I heard he was a pastry chef in a posh restaurant.
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Post by LK3869 »

As always, smiling all along reading it. Seems like everybody's set for a well-deserved, few hours rest. I bet they all slept in classes after such weekends. :lol:
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Fortunately this particular adventure kept them busy in the Summer holidays. Action Man certainly slept in his maths classes!
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but little Speedos always rule.
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Post by Xtc »

OK. Time for another update. As usual, further episodes will follow either a fair number of page views or remarks from new commentors (as well as those form valued existing ones).
They all say boxer shorts are cool,
but little Speedos always rule.
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THE LAND FARMERS AND THE SAILOR BOYS


Later That Day


T-Boy’s alarm went off at nine o’clock so he engaged in some frantic wriggling to try to ensure that his briefs were properly in place before Budgie came down the ladder to untie him. As he did so, the newbie tried to remember the details of the roping that he was undoing. T-Boy was soon free and Mark wandered in, still in his black boxers but wearing a pair of flip-flops as well. He wanted his customary early morning tea. He boiled the kettle, made the tea in his mug, grabbed a couple of biscuits and headed out to the weight-training circuit. It gave him a great sense of satisfaction that the facility that Keith and he had built so long ago was still in place, looked after so carefully and still used.

T-Boy told Budgie that, once he had tethered himself, he would have to take the padlock key because the others would not be satisfied if their slave was not in chains - but not until he had filled the boiler. That was OK by Budgie so he went to watch Mark pumping iron (or, more accurately, wood!) along with Tarzan who had also appeared.

The two younger boys followed Mark in the exercises but using much lighter pine poles, which are what served for bar-bells. Luke was, as usual, sound asleep as were the hostages who had not had their most peaceful night ever.

T-Boy went out to Mark’s Icelandic, stripped and sponged himself down a bit in the critical areas prior to changing into his white briefs. He finished filling the boiler and padlocked one end of a chain round his right ankle and the other round one of the legs of the huge refectory table. From there he could reach all parts of the galley and the entire length of the table. He called Budgie and told him to take care of the key, which he placed on the far side of the Cabin on the mantelpiece.

Over then next hour or so, the rest of the Troop started stirring and most braved the shower prior to presenting themselves for breakfast. Have I explained the high-tech nature of the shower? It was very simple: the bottom of the water tower was a good 5 metres from the ground. It was filled with rainwater (I don’t think anyone thought about the pigeon poo!) and there were four 25 mm pipes leading down from the base. Each pipe terminated in a spray head which had a valve just above it. The valves had two settings: on and off. Even the shortest cub could operate any valve by pulling on the chain attached to the lever that either opened or closed the valve. The shower had one temperature setting: cold! When the tank was full, the water pressure was quite strong. In a dry season, no one bothered.

By now even Luke was up and the hostages were awake. The early morning fry-up was soon ready once everyone who wanted them had eaten cereals & tinned fruit. There were more bodies than usual to feed so T-Boy simplified breakfast to two sausages in a bap, two rashers in a bap and a fried egg sandwich for anyone who wanted it. There was plenty of tomato ketchup and even HP sauce for the true gourmets. That’s what Den CALLED a breakfast: not a bit of health food in sight!

T-Boy asked permission to clear and put a large pot of tea and a somewhat smaller coffee percolator on the table. Alex knew GP’s habit of pouring himself a tea and letting it go cold before gulping it down quickly. He bided his time. When GP went for a pee, he surreptitiously slipped a generous helping of salt into the mug, stirred it, and went out to the exercise circuit. Like I said: it was ginger on ginger!

Evan noticed that T-Boy, in his place as galley slave, had not had any breakfast and granted his permission for him to do so as long as he sat on the floor to eat it.

IT was time to feed the hostages and to see to their other early morning needs. Mark pointed out to the Troop that the official reason for their being allowed to use the Log Cabin that weekend was that they were supposed to be carrying out the annual servicing and maintenance and that they’d better get on with it soon, having spent yesterday “entertaining their guests” and not much else. Speed in dealing with the hostages was of the essence and Sam wanted them in a “low maintenance” situation.

Action Man took Tarzan up to the loft and told him to tie Scott’s hands behind him and release his ankles while he did the same to Steve. They used the fire escape to lower the, still blindfolded, boys to the floor where Budgie and Den received them and knelt them down.

Sam explained their programme for the rest of the day.
• If they “behaved”: 1) bog, 2) breakfast, 3) no ropes, blindfolds or gags but kept safely out of the way, 4) dinner and 5) spread-eagled in the loft overnight.
• If they didn’t “behave”: 1) wet themselves - or worse 2) go without food 3) hog-tied in chains, gagged, blindfolded and chained to the concrete block all day 4) bread and water for dinner and 5) carried inside, chained together and left on the floor all night.

Action Man and GP took each boy in turn out to the toilet, chained his feet and untied his wrists, shut him into the toilet with a reminder about not removing blindfolds and how to find the toilet paper. Once relieved the hostages had their hands bound again, their ankles freed and were taken back to kneel on the floor.

Just as the second hostage was taken back indoors, Alex had reached the third rep of the “dead-lift” exercise using a heavy log with two large staples in it for handles and flattened at the bottom. That’s when he heard the sound. GP had obviously just taken a large gulp of tea. His mates extended him their usual words of sympathy and concern and GP didn’t really appreciate that. Now, how could Alex possibly be blamed? After all, he wasn’t even there, was he?

Everything in the Log Cabin seems to have been either re-cycled or, in the words of BM, “borrowed” from somewhere. This went for the various G4S security bags that seemed to have found their way into the Cabin. They were of various sizes but they were all made of very heavy canvas with reinforced seams and large metal-reinforced eyelet holes round the top.

Sam removed the tape covering the hostages’ eyes leaving the usual red, raw marks. Steve and Scott were shown two such bags that were about 120 cm high at the level of the eyelets. Their choice was simple: get into the bags or prepare for the hog-tie and its companions. Even Scott didn’t want to be chained in a hog-tie and go without food for that long so both boys agreed to be bagged. Steve couldn’t help asking (very politely) whether Sam meant what he had said about no ropes. Sam assured him that he did.

Each hostage was given a bag to carry and Acton Man and GP took one each by the arm out to the concrete block. Den took a four-metre chain and two padlocks. He fixed one end of the chain loosely but inescapably round Scott’s neck. The other end he threaded through the heavy iron eye and fastened round Steve’s neck. There was plenty of chain to allow both boys to stand (not that they would be able to soon), sit or lie down but they would have to take a bit of care about the effect that certain movements would have on their companion.

By now Alex was on to the chin-ups and affecting indifference to the presence of an incandescent GP. GP knew better!

Once they were secured, Steve and Scott both had their wrists untied. GP helped Steve climb into one of the bags. By the time a chain had been threaded through the eyelets and drawn tight enough to prevent escape, Steve had to crouch. Scott suffered the same fate at the hands of Action Man but, being taller than Steve, he didn’t have quite the same scope for movement inside his bag.

“Right,” announced Evan, “Hand over your shorts. It’s laundry time.” Both boys wriggled their way out of their garments and there was enough slack in the chains to allow them to hand their clothing to Evan who took it and presented it to T-Boy for laundering, “WHEN you have time!”

The Sea Scouts returned to the Cabin and the two Land Farmers thought that they were going to be left hungry and thirsty. They spoke quietly, discussing their best way forward but, before long, Budgie and Tarzan were sent out with Coco Pops and milk which they fed, fairly efficiently, to the hostages. Luke wasn’t allowed to feed them because the Sea Scouts knew he would take the opportunity to torment his brother. After the cereals had been eaten, both hostages were offered water to drink from a camel pack which was also used to give their lower faces a quick hosing down. Both boys assumed that, for them, breakfast was over and thought, “At least something’s better than nothing.” and started wriggling around inside their canvas “cells” to find more comfortable positions.

As had been said before, however, the Sea Scouts didn’t really want to torture the hostages any more than necessary to make them co-operate and Budgie and Tarzan were sent out with sausage sandwiches and bacon sandwiches but no eggs and no tomato ketchup. In spite of the difficulties involved in biting into a bap held by someone else without disgorging its contents, both boys enjoyed a hearty breakfast followed by another drink and rinse-off with the camel pack. They even remembered to thank Tarzan and Budgie.

Mark had a list of tasks that needed completing and the rest of the day passed in routine painting, cleaning, mending, wood chopping and general maintenance. Even the newbies joined in with cleaning and cobweb removal inside the Log cabin. T-Boy finished the washing up, floor scrubbing and laundering his underwear and the hostages’ shorts when Action Man told him that, while he was at it, he could scrub the Victors’ gaiters, clean their boots and wash several of their clothing items as well. T-Boy didn’t mind; he liked to be of help in any case, in spite of the more “unusual” aspects (the chain round his ankle & only wearing his underpants) of his labours. Although on that weekend he probably wished that he favoured boxer shorts rather than mini-briefs. Remembering his situation, he asked very politely if someone could take the laundered items and hang them in front of the fire Yes, even in day time, Scouts = fire!

Every so often one of the novices was sent to check on the well-being of the hostages and to give them water as necessary. Every two hours, tea break was taken and by two o’clock the novices and T- boy were back to normal dress. T-Boy went off on his bike to the nearest supermarket to shop for dinner. Everyone (except Scott and Steve) had contributed towards the costs of the weekend and it meant that they were going to eat well!

Come four o’clock it was time for dinner and a good long break before the last working session of the day. There was even a danger of meeting all maintenance targets!

Mark took the novices to one side. He warned them of the dangers to the TUGs club of loose talk and told Luke to hand over his phone. The younger boys had obviously been talking about what they did to Scott in the ditch and Mark reminded them again that the hostages were not the ones who deserved to be humiliated and that they should, if anything, be respected for volunteering to take Jamie’s place. Luke took the blame and offered to make amends. Now that wasn’t predictable, was it?!!

Mark looked through Luke’s photos and made him delete all the ones featuring his brother: the ones showing him spread-eagled and enjoying a “pleasurable dream”, the ones of Scott with a shoe over his face and all the rest. “Sorry, Mark. I’ve already got to pay off one forfeit, but let me know when I need to pay for this.” Mark told him that that would be up to Alex and that, if Alex withdrew his sponsorship, Luke would be expelled from the club. Luke’s mouth and eyes, including his pupils, became very wide as panic set in. “Please, no!” Luke pleaded, but Mark told him to go and make his peace with Alex.

Luke immediately went to Alex, asked to speak to him in private and ‘fessed-up completely. Alex said that, as he intended to stay until Wednesday at least, he would discuss it with Luke later on after he had decided whether Sam needed to be told. “Please, Alex. NO!!” Luke even went down on his knees.

“Later.” A very worried Luke had no choice but to wait until Alex was ready to answer him. Alex knew that what he was doing was cruel but it did give Luke a chance to run away. Alex had more faith in him than that, let’s face it: if Luke ran, Alex, as his sponsor, would suffer for it.

Not being that stupid, Luke had taken some photos on Budgie’s phone as well just in case his were found. He even considered deleting them. “Noooo!” he thought with a grin and a shake of his head.

The boys had been working for less than an hour following dinner when Sam’s phone went. It was Vic.



TBC
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Post by LK3869 »

Last chapter, check. :)
(writers need reassuring these days, it's a long winter....)
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Absolutely. Thank you.
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Post by harveygasson »

God I love this story so much!
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Thanks. Did you read it on the old site?
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Post by MaxRoper »

After my recent Whine Festival it wouldn't be right to let this slide and just wait quietly for the next chapter, so I'll add my "Well done, lad!" to the chorus.
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Post by Xtc »

I sympathise with your "WhineFest". I feel very much the same at times until I consider that I write for my own sake and most other people are unappreciative philistines. Well, it makes me feel better.
Thanks for commenting, as you know, such things matter.
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but little Speedos always rule.
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Thanks for bearing with this story. Here's the next part.
As usual, comments are most welcome.
They all say boxer shorts are cool,
but little Speedos always rule.
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THE LAND FARMERS AND THE SAILOR BOYS


Back at the Cottage


By the time Jamie and the Buzzard Patrol had returned from their expedition, Long Tom, Vic and Zac had already arrived at the Cottage ready for a council of war. Long Tom was the Scouts’ field general. He was over 180 cm tall by the time he was thirteen, now that he was fifteen, he was even taller, about 195 cm, and had developed in proportion. He was an historical re-enactor who, as a Celtic warrior, was used to “fighting” bare-chested and painted with mock woad. He was heavily muscled and well defined. This “battle” experience made him a good tactician in the wide games and skilled in the sheer casual treachery practiced between the Scouts and the Sailor Boys.

George was missing on family business.

Taking no more time than necessary for a shower and a change of clothes, Jamie joined his companions and tucked into the food that had been prepared for him. Long Tom had already been briefed about the situation concerning Little Steve, Scott and the Twins but the news that Jamie imparted was a complete surprise. He wanted to offer himself in exchange for Scott and, more especially, for Little Steve.

After Jamie had convinced the others that he was not in serious need of medical assistance, the boys discussed plans for making sure that the Twins were safely delivered to the Sailor Boys as early as possible on Monday morning. Tom summed up the position clearly, reasoned against silly suggestions like a full-frontal assault (hopelessly outnumbered and the Buzzards, besides being too young, had no parental permission to stay) and outlined his suggestions as to what should be done. Everyone agreed and Long Tom said that he would fill Little Steve and Scott in on the details in the morning.

Once they had rehearsed all the arrangements once more, Vic made a phone call to Sam, who answered his phone with the usual casual insults.

“OK, never mind the abuse, Stickboy, just shut-up and listen. Jamie wants to parley. He’s got an offer to make. We’re on our way over.”

Sam reminded him that there was no way Jamie, or any of the rest of the Scouts except himself, was setting foot on their property except as a prisoner. Jamie agreed. He’d already changed into his jammers before dressing to avoid the previous embarrassment of bring tied up in his underwear. Vic went and changed into his long, button-fronted boxers because he knew that he wouldn’t be allowed onto the Sea Scouts’ premises without stripping down.

The Sacrifice


Zac packed plenty of rope and tape, just in case the Sea Scouts demanded its use, for securing Jamie at the other end of the journey. Vic grabbed Scott’s discarded clothing, Zac grabbed Little Steve’s and the four boys set off for the Log Cabin. The journey wasn’t as quick as Zac would have liked; Jamie had just returned from an overnight exped., Long Tom had spent two days fighting alongside his Celtic warriors and Vic was simply smaller than the others. Zac was getting quite frustrated about the lack of progress by the time they got to the gate to the Log cabin. They took a few moments to compose themselves just out of sight of the Cabin, geed one another up and swapped high and low fives before presenting themselves at the gate.

Jamie started stripping off and Vic got on his phone, (not that the Sailor Boys didn’t know that they had already arrived) and Sam came to the door.

“OK, Jamie, you want to parley, you know what you need to do first, come half way when you’re ready. Just your wrists bound will do. Only you come onto the site; the others stay there.” He noticed that, in addition to his brother and Jamie, Long Tom and Zac were also present.

Jamie insisted that Zac do the job properly so that the Sailor Boys would see that he was sincere. He was only glad that they hadn’t insisted that he should be blindfolded or that he had a rope bound tightly round his biceps as happened on his previous visit. By the time Zac had finished tying Jamie’s wrists in a cross behind him, he was in a pretty inescapable tie without any extras being applied. In any case, there’d be no point in escaping and leaving his men in captivity.

“I’m ready, permission to come on board?”

“Come on, half way. That’ll do. Now turn round so that I can see your wrists. Good enough, now face me and kneel down.”

Jamie knew that he had to get it right if he was even to get a hearing, let alone achieve his required objective. He knelt, crossed his ankles and sat on his heels.

“Before you start. You three, keep your hands where we can see them. On the fence.” The Scouts did so. It had dawned on the Sea Scouts that George wasn’t in sight, a matter of some suspicion, but a good guard was being kept on the hostages and a sweep of the area around the Cabin failed to find him so the older boys joined Sam and the novices joined Action Man and Alex in guarding the hostages. The Sea Scouts seriously suspected a rescue attempt, which I suppose it was really.

“OK, Jamie, what do you want to say?”

Jamie explained that he was offering himself as a hostage in place of the two volunteers. He would surrender himself completely to be kept however they wanted until the Scouts could deliver the Twins tomorrow morning.

Sam offered to swap Scott for Jamie but, if only one hostage was on offer, Jamie wanted Steve to be released. Not being stupid, Sam knew that Scott wouldn’t care about remaining in captivity so he didn’t consider that a very good deal.

“Either you can have Scott and we keep Little Steve and you or it’s two for two. Final offer.”

“That’s not fair. I intended to surrender myself but none of these guys did.”

“OK, Farmer Boy, see you tomorrow morning with the Twins! Oh, and Vic, don’t forget your little Speedos for the change over.” said Sam, making to turn away.

“No, take me as well and release both our men.” offered Vic in an uncharacteristic moment of altruism.

“If we’d wanted you as a hostage, I could have taken you at any time from home.” explained Sam, “Tell you what, we’ll take Jamie and Long Tom. Without them, the rest of you are less likely to betray us during the exchange.”

“I can’t ask Tom to do that.” said Jamie starting to stand up to go.

“Wait, I surrender; give me a minute.” called Tom, and Jamie knelt down again. Tom took a couple of minutes to remind Vic and Zac about tomorrow’s routine and to take a precautionary piss.

“Time’s up, Tom, get ’em off.” Long Tom stripped down to his white briefs. Let’s face it: he hadn’t dressed for staying. He still had the remains of the “woad” patterns on his torso and arms where he had not had time to get properly clean following Vic’s earlier call to arms. Unlike Jamie, who already had quite a tan, the dark-haired Long Tom was still quite pale-skinned with quite a touch of redness. It seems that Celtic warriors didn’t use strong enough sun block!

“Make sure you tie this one up tightly. A pressed man night not be quite so dedicated to the cause.” called Sam. “Wrists, arms and eyes; then Vic can lead him in. Don’t forget, bro’, you need to get ‘em off as well. You know that, as long as you do, you get safe conduct.”

“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you, you skinny streak of bat’s piss?” Vic called to his brother as he started to strip down to his boxers. Sam just grinned and nodded. He had time!

Zac tied Tom’s wrists as he had Jamie’s and then wrapped four rounds of gaffer tape tightly around his body and arms, just below his pecs. He knew that, if he showed any mercy to his mate, the Sailor Boys would just refuse the exchange.

“Sorry, Tom, I’ve got to do it.”

“I know, let’s get it over with, deal with the blindfold.” and Tom closed his eyes while Zac pushed a short piece of gaffer tape into the contours of his eyes.

“Do it properly, he could soon fidget that little bit of tape off. Wrap him up thoroughly.”

“Sorry, Mate, I did try.”

“It’s OK.” and Zac wrapped about four layers of tape round Tom’s head leaving no chink for light to penetrate.

Vic started the next round of negotiations, “OK you’ve got Jamie now bring Scott out here.”

Sam thought that was reasonable and asked Acton Man and Alex to bring him round to the front. Alex unlocked the chain attaching the two hostages together from around Scott’s neck and padlocked it to the iron eye so that Little Steve was still unable to move very far away from the concrete block. Leaving the novices to guard Steve and to look out for any possible double-cross, Action Man and Alex dragged Scott round to the front of the Log Cabin and laid him about a metre in front of Jamie.

Scott looked up and grinned, “Hi!”

“You OK, Man?”

“Yes, just a bit bored today. But it’s not been too bad.”

(Mark was thinking that it was just like old times. How many years ago now? He knew that it would not have been appropriate for him to join in, but he was glad to see the old traditions and rivalries still being kept up by the younger ones. He just kept a low profile and remained in the Log Cabin happily re-living old memories.)

“Right, there’s Scott. Now bring Long Tom here.”

Vic, by now in just his underpants, asked Tom, “Ready, Mate?” and Tom nodded. Vic took him by the arm through the gate and up the path next to where Jamie was kneeling. The two boys ended up kneeling side by side with their arms touching. Tom was surprised not to have his ankles bound but, reading between the lines, reckoned that, in that case, Jamie and he would not be left as they were for long.

Now that both the Scouts had been delivered, Vic demanded to see Little Steve. “OK, back off.” demanded Sam. “Either leave the premises or kneel down with your ankles crossed and your hands on your head.” Vic chose to leave rather than to adopt the surrender position.

Alex and Action Man returned with Steve and laid him next to Scott.

“Oh, thank fuck for that.” said a relieved Steve. He wasn’t normally prone to strong language but he thought that he’d already done his bit for the Troop and really relished the idea of release. But he already knew that nothing would stop him becoming involved again.

“OK, Guys, won’t be long.” assured Jamie.

“Don’t worry, we’ll come and get you tomorrow. With the Twins!” assured Scott.

“OK, Vic, come and get them. Just you. Not Zac.”

Vic came back through the gate and Action Man approached him with a padlock key and a few other items. There was a wordless exchange between the two boys as they both came level with the prisoners. Vic unlocked the padlock holding the bag round Steve’s neck and handed him his swimming shorts. Steve wriggled into them before emerging from the yellow sack and stretching his muscles prior to slipping his feet into his walking shoes and tying the laces out of the way.

Scott, as usual, had a more direct way with things: once the chain had been unthreaded, he climbed out of the sack before replacing his garish square leg briefs and carried his boots. Both former hostages went to the gate with Vic where Zac handed over their clothes. After a short break for Steve and Scott to dress and a remarkable variety of shouted imprecations to different members of the Sea Scouts, the Scouts left for the Cottage. Now that Steve and Scott had left the premises, Action Man kept a very careful eye on Jamie who could easily have made an escape attempt.

GP brought a roll of tape, a football sock and his last remaining rubber ball out of the “toybox”. He shared T-Boy’s hygiene obsession; he wouldn’t dream of putting a used ball in someone else’s mouth, even an enemy’s, unless it had been well disinfected and there wasn’t time for that. Upon hearing GP lament the fact that he could only gag one of the hostages properly, Action Man went to the Cabin and returned with a small bag.

He’d come a long way to overcome his shyness during that paint-ball torture. He emptied the contents of his bag on the ground and blushed at the thought of his mates seeing the items that he’d brought along “just in case”. GP’s eyes lit up at the sight of a fair-sized red ball gag lying there. It even had a small padlock with it. He’d remember the other items in case they were needed later but for now the ball gag was a gift from the Gods. He grinned and looked meaningfully at Jamie who sagged resignedly and gave him one of his burning looks.

Jamie submitted to being gagged and didn’t have to wait too long after he heard the padlock click before his eyes were taped over as well. Action Man was a bit happier that Jamie could not easily escape any more and he took the rubber ball and inserted it into the sock. Long Tom didn’t really know what had happened to his companion but he felt his head jerked back and the gag inserted before he could prevent it. Action Man tied it tightly in place and GP taped round it to prevent Tom expelling it.

There was a certain amount of comfort to be had from being in contact with one another but both hostages suspected that that was the most comfort they were likely to experience over the next twelve hours or so. They were not to be disappointed.



TBC
They all say boxer shorts are cool,
but little Speedos always rule.
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LK3869
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Post by LK3869 »

"The surrender position", I keep bumping into it lately...
This prisoners exchange ritual is very enjoyable, like a spontaneous re-enacting of the cold war spies movies or westerns ( saw such a scene lately in a very disapointing movie with John Wayne, yours is much funnier :) )

A little treat to reward your regular posts, and because I keep delaying pics you inspire me ('regular' friends have a hard time with impulsive types -that's me :roll: - who feed on said regularity...), not from the story but an old, sketchy one with the surrender position (and ropes), from somewhere in between rise of the anckle socks and fall of the baggy jeans (I'd say 2000 to 2005 BC) :
Surrender Position.jpg
Will also act as bonus for the many viewers.
Bare chest was maximum nudity for me then, a consequence of having no half-naked funny games in the woods with my mates, so thanks again for your 'bright side' stories.
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Veracity
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Post by Veracity »

I had forgotten just how long this story is! I may have mentioned before that I love long stories, and this is still one of my all-time favorites.
Also- LK3869, beautiful drawing. I'm glad that I happened to check into this story which I have already read many times, or I would have missed it.
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Xtc
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Post by Xtc »

Thanks [mention]Veracity[/mention]. Yes, we're about two-thirds of the way through, I reckon.

Thank you [mention]LK3869[/mention] Quite a bonus for anyone checking out the story.
They all say boxer shorts are cool,
but little Speedos always rule.
Werdify
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Post by Werdify »

Great chapter and very excited for the new characters! Recently rediscovered some of the art for these characters on DA which was even cooler with some context.
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Xtc
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Post by Xtc »

Thanks for that.

Yes, I was lucky to have Olli-mg illustrate one of the later stories. The illustrations for this story were taken down some time ago at the request of the arist. We were getting problems with gthe "Carriers of the Torch of Purity".
They all say boxer shorts are cool,
but little Speedos always rule.
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Post by MaxRoper »

Excellent new chapter. This does go on and on without becoming tiresome. And of course the drawing adds to the fun.
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