YELLOWBELLIES (several mm/m)

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YELLOWBELLIES (several mm/m)

Post by Xtc »

OK, so the people have spoken.
It's about time to meet the "Yellowbellies".
The St. Luke's TUGs club always welcomes new members and there are always those who are stupid enough to wish to join.
Time to meet Howard, Jack, and Ollie (Ooh look: an Oxford comma!)
They all say boxer shorts are cool,
but little Speedos always rule.
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YELLOWBELLIES (1)


Setting Out


Howard was in just his black knee length shorts, as was his wont at night. Even though this was Saturday morning, the others didn’t take long to tie his hands behind him securely enough to ensure that he couldn’t struggle out of the rope without their noticing. The rest of the rope was left trailing. Kidnapping by appointment really lacked some of the excitement of the unexpected surprise snatch but it could still be fun.

“Where are your underpants?” asked Alex who sported his inevitable cowboy hat.

“Why?” asked Howard as he didn’t think he’d be allowed any if he wanted to wear his shorts for the appointment.

“Unconditional obedience, remember. For that, we’ll have to use those worn ones on the floor. Pick them up, please.” Having been reminded of the conditions Howard squatted down in an attempt to recover the discarded boxers from the floor where he’d simply dropped them the previous night. “No, not now that you’ve questioned an instruction. With your mouth.”

Howard gave Alex a look that he couldn’t possibly follow through in the circumstances before kneeling down and trying to grip his dirty underwear between his teeth causing the inevitable face-down collapse on the floor. Following a few of Tim’s “witticisms” about lying down on the job, Howard struggled to his knees carrying yesterday’s boxers in his mouth.

“No, don’t stand up, bring them here.” Howard crawled over to Alex on his knees and offered the boxers to him. “Good boy. Drop it. Good boy.” Somehow Howard managed to bite his tongue. “Where’s your house football scarf?”

“Hanging on the door.” answered Howard nodding towards the assemblage of garments there.

“Fetch, boy.” The look was no more effective this time than it had been previously as Howard started to struggle to his feet.

“No, don’t bother to stand, just crawl over and fetch, boy.” If there hadn’t been so much depending upon it, Howard would have happily told Alex and Tim what they could do with their “invitation”. As it was, however, he did as he’d been bidden and crawled over to the door and pulled at the end of the scarf with his teeth dislodging his hoodie and his school blazer in the process.

When he’d crawled back to his kidnappers, Tim shoved the scarf more firmly into his mouth followed by the boxers. Howard was told to stand and was led out to meet the other applicants. At St. Luke’s on a Saturday no one was even remotely likely to question why a bound boy wearing only his sleep shorts was being escorted uncomplainingly off site even though he had a football scarf and a pair of underpants hanging from his mouth.

Howard was a sturdy, blonde sixteen year old with no great muscular definition but possessed of considerable determination. That was going to come in handy in his present situation. Howard and his two friends, Jack and Ollie, were from Lincolnshire, proud “Yeller Bellies”. They’d already made arrangements to join the same Homebase next year but it didn’t already have a TUGs team and they decided that they wanted to form one. This weekend, the existing Club members would decide whether the uninitiated boys should be allowed to apply to be gofers and then work their way up to full membership status and, from there, to form their own team predictably to be called the Yellowbellies.


Meet the Applicants



Once Howard and his escort had left the school grounds, having booked themselves out the previous evening, they met Jack and Ollie, who were also bound and carrying underwear and scarves in their mouths, with their respective escorts. The kidnappers set about their next tasks. Howard’s boxers and scarf were removed from his mouth by Tim who folded and rolled the boxers neatly and pushed them into Howard’s mouth prior to wrapping his football scarf over his eyes, tying it behind his head and bringing the ends round to the front again where he knotted them tightly several times in Howard’s mouth thus holding the used boxers securely in place.

Alex took the free ends of the rope that had been trailing from Howard’s wrists and tied them together about a foot from the end with a combined figure-eight knot. Once he’d done that, he tied the ends none too tightly round Jack’s neck using a reef knot. That would ensure that the ropes didn’t tighten round his neck even though he wouldn’t be able to slip his head through the resultant loop. It would also ensure that, if Howard moved more than about two feet away from Jack, he would wrench his own arms uncomfortably behind him as well as forcing Jack to stoop.

Jack was tall and slim with unruly curly hair. He’d chosen to wear his black compression shorts which not only showed off his athletic physique but also kept his somewhat prominent private parts rounded up and comfortably out of the way. He’d received the almost identical treatment to Howard’s except that, when he was told to retrieve his underpants, he didn’t question the instruction and so was allowed to retrieve a clean garment. He was also canny enough to have made previous preparations to ensure that the first garment he found was just a pair of briefs that wouldn’t be quite as bulky as his more usual boxers when James forced them into his mouth. Tommy tied his wrist rope to Ollie’s neck leaving the three boys coffled securely together.

Ollie was a pale-skinned, very dark-haired, round faced, smiley boy who had been shaving daily for quite some time. He was sturdy but not athletic and in height, somewhere between Jack and Howard. He didn’t have anybody behind him so Lewis threaded the trailing rope ends up under Ollie’s armpits, crossed them behind his neck, pulled on them until his forearms were horizontal, and tied them off in front of his neck while Ritchie blindfolded and gagged him with his football scarf and his red Calvin Klein boxer-briefs. Lewis “reassured” him that, as long as he didn’t struggle, he shouldn’t strangle himself.

James slipped a short rope over Howard’s neck and, taking his usual role as chairman, explained that it wouldn’t be too long until the applicants reached their destination where, as they already knew, they would have to take part in some “games” of the sort that the teams usually played. “Right, now, anybody want to drop out?”

Three boys carefully and uncertainly shook their heads. “Right then, away we go.” announced James, pulling the line of boys forwards having given them no time to prepare to be led forwards. “And, if anybody manages to dislodge his gag, he’s out - and one out, everyone out. Understand?” There followed the nodding of three heads while their owners tried to maintain both their balance and their momentum.


Meet the Contestants



As far as the three prisoners were concerned for what must have been the next hour, James’s assertion that “it wouldn’t bee too long” until they reached their destination, simply meant that he lied like a cheap Japanese watch. In that time, tethered together and blindfolded, they covered only about two miles until they came to an open forest lawn area with a lake and a scattering of Scots Pines where the other three contestants were waiting.

James instructed the potential Yellowbellies TUGs team to kneel and cross their ankles whereupon Tim, Tommy and Ritchie cross-lashed them before Alex, James and Lewis untied the ropes from their necks and used them to apply kneeling hogties. It was time to meet the other contestants so the football scarves were untied but not before reminders about not expelling the underwear. Once the applicants’ eyes were uncovered, the scarves were re-positioned and tied tightly into their mouths. They then saw who they would be up against.

They would have to play various games against three of the boys who were waiting. They could tell which three because, as was traditional, the contestants had been stripped and bound by the fourth boy. John was a bit pissed off that he wasn’t one of the contestants but someone had to bind them and they didn’t really want to spend too long tied up before the others arrived. In a “normal” games meet, they wouldn’t mind so much but against that day’s opponents, they wanted to maximise their advantages.

The applicants looked around. It was worse than they’d feared. Not only would their opponents already know which games they would play but they were among the fittest, if not actually the biggest of the TUGs club members.

Nick had chosen to wear royal blue Speedo swim briefs. He was a shortish, well muscled black kid who was just about the fastest thing over a cross country course in the school other than the school dog. He was also very nearly as intelligent as Lewis, who was a true genius. He would be great at anything involving swimming, strategy or distance running. George, the tall, crew-cut blonde in the little pale blue swimming shorts, offered probably the best chance in spite of his height but he was also a clever boy who was a skilled skier and sailor. Surely they couldn’t find a game to fit his specialities. The third contestant wasn’t the tallest person but Ben was a rugby player with shoulders, thighs and pecs like a body builder. Another intelligent kid, he could swim like a fish and give anyone else two stone in weight in a wrestling match. He was very blonde and had chosen to wear a tight, white pair of swimming shorts.

All three of them were kneeling and bound, as was customary for contestants, just like the applicants but they weren’t yet gagged. With the possible substitution of Ritchie for George, this was probably the strongest team that the TUGs club members from these three teams could have fielded. The applicants wondered whether their journey had been worthwhile. At least the Blue Meanies and the Whiteknights hadn’t fielded contestants; the thought of having to face the enormously tall Tim or immensely powerful Monty would have knocked all heart out of the applicants before they even started. Of course, they didn’t know that the other teams had deliberately taken that into consideration.

Lewis had been put in charge of explaining the pairing process while John stripped for action. Although he wasn’t to be an actual contestant, he was still going to get the role he really enjoyed: each applicant would take turns to tie John using only about ten feet of rope. He could be relied upon to cooperate completely while he was being tied up as long as it took no more than five minutes, after which he should start struggling whether the applicant had finished or not. If it hadn’t taken too long, the applicant would nod, the watch would start and John’s escape would be timed. The person who kept John bound for longest got first choice of opponent and so on down the order.

Obviously the first to tie John would be at a considerable disadvantage; not only would John be fresh but the applicant wouldn’t have time to plan. The established members had also decided that it wouldn’t be fair if later applicants got to study John’s technique against their predecessors and spot any inadequacies in their tying techniques. Accordingly, sleep masks were produced and slipped over the applicants’ eyes. Obviously, heads went back as they vainly attempted to see under the blindfolds until Lewis offered to replace them with large amounts of gaffer tape.

Instructions were given that, on Lewis’s count, each applicant should extend either one or two fingers of his right hand, odd man out goes first. “One, two, three, show!”

Howard and Jack extended two fingers to Ollie’s one. Ollie would go first. Next time around between just Jack and Howard, if the total number of fingers was odd, Jack would go last; if not, Howard would. “One, two, three, show.” This time Howard only extended one finger but Jack kept to two thus securing himself last go and a certain advantage.

By now John had stripped down to a pair of tight, yellow 27centimetre Speedo aquashorts and was raring to go. His suppleness and the fact that he was a total bondage pig made him indispensible in situations like this. He was short and slim but with good shoulders and very well developed pecs. With his dirty blonde thatch he could have made an underwear model if only he was more handsome.



TBC
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Post by blackbound »

I'm a bit confused - do the three contestants that are already initiated not participate in this game, or why are they allowed to see and not included in the order?

(also you have a typo in the thread name)
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Post by Canuck100 »

I really enjoy reading your St.Luke's tug-club stories and spinoffs. They make me wish I had started a tug-club at my school :D Well done
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Post by Xtc »

Thanks for the prompt response. [mention]blackbound[/mention]. I should have trapped the typo.

The established members have arranged to provide appropriate competition for the applicants. The Contestants have been selected from the members and will help to decide the suitability of each of the Yellowbellies to join the club. The contestants have been carefully chosen. Please read on.

Thanks again, It matters when people care enough to question the coherence of the writing.
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Post by Werdify »

I'm really glad you elected to keep going with and developing these characters. Love both of your universes, but this one gets my vote for expansion!
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Post by Xtc »

Thank you,[mention]Werdify[/mention].

I do seem to recall the Whiteknights and the Blue Meanies. I haven't written about them yet. I need to come up with two more characters. Thata, however, lies i the future.
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Post by Carnath »

Very nice new installment :)
The Brotherhood
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If you want to support me and allow me to commission more illustration and write more story, you can donate to my Patreon: https://www.patreon.com/carnath_gid
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Post by Xtc »

Thank you [mention]chloroboy[/mention] and [mention]Canuck100[/mention].
Next chapter coming up.
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Post by Xtc »

YELLOWBELLIES (2)


Deciding on the Order of Play


Ollie’s wrists were untied and he was warned once more about removing his gag before being told to remove his blindfold and to untie his own ankles. Once he was untied and had stood up, John was standing in front of him holding a length of soft cotton rope. “Hi, Ollie, how do you want me?”

Not only had Ollie had no real time to think, he was unable to answer and simply took the rope and moved behind John. He tied a handcuff knot and slipped it onto John’s wrists. He pulled it tight but omitted to tie it off before wrapping the free ends round John’s waist and tying them behind his wrists. A couple of quick vertical wrappings between John’s wrists and round the rest of the rope completed the job. Ollie nodded towards James who started the stop-watch on his phone.

John started, quite calmly, to release himself. Ollie looked on with dismay as John simply slipped his hands above the rope round his waist and gradually forced them apart. Because Ollie failed to tie off the original handcuff knot and because John had now relaxed his abs, he pulled the rope tighter round his waist but the loops round his wrists extended and he managed to slip his right wrist from its surrounding loop. From there it was the work of less than a minute to inflate his abs forcing the empty wrist loop to close, hold his gut in again, thus loosening the waist rope, bring his left hand in front of him and start removing the rope. After the initial one-handed fumbling to loosen the loop surrounding his left wrist, the rest of the untying took very little time as John stepped out of the rope, untangled it and looped it around Ollie’s neck as an indication that he was completely free from it.. John stood admiring the slight rope burns, caused when he first forced his wrists apart, while James announced: “Four minutes, fifteen seconds.”

Ollie was devastated. How could he have forgotten to tie off the original knot? Lewis and Ritchie secured him again and replaced his blindfold. He wasn’t even going to be able to see how the others were doing. He could, however, hear Nick congratulating John. “Good one, mate. They always forget something.”

Howard and Jack were taking mental notes as they planned even though they had no idea what it was that Ollie had forgotten. Both of them knew that they had a good chance of not losing this particular competition in the light of what they’d been hearing. Lewis’s voice called the meeting to order: “OK, Zoolander, ready for the next one?” John liked being considered in that light, but the implications for his intellect went straight over his head, and he indicated that he was more than ready.

Alex and Tim freed Howard who, blinking in the sunlight, tried to sum up his subject as James handed him the rope. John greeted his newest challenger and just to be annoying, asked how he wanted him. Upon seeing Howard nodding sideways towards the ground, John laid himself down on the ground and brought his arms round behind him. James gave Howard the cue and he knelt down to his task.

Howard started with a clove hitch which he tied round John’s wrists with his hands palm to palm. He knotted the rope and wrapped it a couple of times between John’s wrists before pulling it tight and knotting it twice. Howard then moved to John’s feet and pulled them up to his bum. As an honourable man, he made no resistance as Howard wrapped the ends of the rope several times round both ankles leaving himself just enough rope to tie a double knot securing John in a hogtie with his knees together. That was his mistake. When he nodded to James to indicate that he had finished, James gave the signal and Howard almost immediately noticed his strategic mistake.

John’s long, skilful fingers worked their way along the rope and his supple body arched to an unexpected (to Howard at least) extent as he pulled his feet towards his hands until he could reach the knot that Howard had tied behind his heels. Twisting his lower legs sideways, John could even just about catch a useful sight of the knot. After little more than three minutes from the start, John’s ankles were free.

“Come on, Zoolander, give us the look.” Lying on his belly and continuing his struggles, John turned his head the other way and tried his best to “do the look” with his dirt-encrusted face. “Go boy!”

With only two strands of rope around his wrists, John soon had his hands in front of him. Problem, the knots holding the clove hitch in place were on the opposite side of his wrists from his teeth. With a bit of pain John could just about touch the outermost one and, with a bit of worrying it with his ring finger and his pinkie, it started to loosen. There was eventually enough looseness for John to cup his chin in his hands and use his tongue to loosen and, eventually, his teeth to untie the knot completely. Lacking the second, securing knot, John managed to separate his hands slightly and the last knot took very little work at all. A last effort forced John’s wrists apart and he hung the rope round Howard’s neck. John turned right, now that WAS the Zoolander look! Shame about the dirt all up his front including the front of his previously pristine yellow aquashorts.

“Look and learn, boy. Look and learn!”

“Seven minutes thirty-five seconds.” announced James as Alex and Tim secured Howard, cutting off his daylight once more. The three applicants were kneeling alongside one another again as Jack awaited his turn.

John looked again at his gradually expanding collection of rope-burns, opened a can of diet coke, took no more than one slurp and called Alex and Tim to “bring it on”.

The tall, slim, athletic Jack had had time to think by now and, even though he could see neither the mistakes that the others had made nor how John had dealt with them. He had a plan.

James handed Jack the rope and reminded him that he had only five minutes and ten foot of rope to secure the rampant John. As soon as James started the timer, John calmed down and submitted to Jack’s ministrations.

Jack doubled the rope and wrapped it twice round John’s wrists before threading the ends through the bight, separating the ends and cinching the rope between John’s wrists. He then brought both free ends up to elbow level on John, looped it round his arms and pulled it very tight so forcing John’s elbows to touch before wrapping his arms again and cinching the rope. John thought he might have a bit more trouble escaping this time (and wondered whether Jack could be persuaded to tie him up again in the future). That left Jack with just enough rope to thread through John’s armpits and tie off with a reef knot behind his neck after pulling it tight yet again.

“Right,” thought Jack, “The knot’s out of range of his fingers, he can’t slip his hands under his bum, he can’t slip his wrists out of the rope and I can’t see how he’ll get out of that.”

John started breathing deeply. He tried contracting his body and lifting his elbows to loosen the reef knot. He might as well just have looked at it sternly for the effect that had. After about ten minutes, John had made very little impact on Jack’s work and James declared Jack the winner. He then said that, when John was ready, he’d untie him while Tommy re-tied Jack and covered his eyes again.

John ran a way off. “You gotta tame the beast before you let it out of its cage.” He made it clear that he wanted to escape without any help. Eventually he did but not until he’d been bound for about an hour before he “cheated”. He found a protrusion from a nearby tree and eventually hooked the second pass of the, by now slightly loosened, reef knot into it and pulled. The elbow loops took about another half-hour to loosen as did the well-concealed knots cinching the turns around his wrists.

The others just let him get on with it while they gave the applicants and the other contestants their undivided attention.

While John was engaged in his escape challenges, Nick, George and Ben had been waiting patiently wrists and ankles bound and kneeling on the ground. Now it was their turn to see who would have to battle against whom. The raggedy-haired Jack got first pick so James removed his blindfold and told him to choose while Tommy stood behind the three contestants and indicated first Nic and then George. Jack chose George by nodding his head and “eff-ing” into his gag as Tommy put his hand on George’s head without knowing the type of event in which he would have to engage him. That was an easy choice in spite of the blonde lad being the tallest of the contestants. Jack was blindfolded again. Howard’s choice was not so straight forward. If only he knew what type of event his “hosts” had in mind for him. Nick was probably the smaller of the two and, in spite of his renowned athleticism, Howard chose the smiling black youngster as his opponent as soon as Tommy put his hand on his head. That left Ollie facing off against Ben. They might just as well have paired off in order of height but that would have robbed John of his morning’s on-going entertainment.



TBC

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YELLOWBELLIES (3)


Jack’s Event


“Right,” announced James, “Jack won the escape challenge. He goes first. Brace yourself, George.”

Once his ankles had been released, George stood up and approached Jack, who had his feet released and his blindfold removed. It was decided that “in fairness” the contestants should be gagged just like the applicants. George didn’t appreciate that decision but he was expecting as much and he knew there was no point in forcing a vote on the matter. He soon had a knotted football scarf tied tightly into his mouth. His mates didn’t seem to spare him in the matter but at least he hadn’t been gagged for as long as the applicants even though his ankles been tied while he had been kneeling and waiting for the applicants to arrive.

James announced that all Jack had to do was to get George into the pond to win. On the other hand, if George could touch a designated tree, he would win. James and Tommy then proceeded to prepare the combatants. George and Jack were stood back-to-back and tied together at the waist, the elbows and under the armpits. Lewis declared that he was going to be scrupulously fair as he positioned the combatants on the starting spot and, to be fair, he didn’t give George much of an advantage. James gave the signal and it was battle on.

Tactics differed: Jack, being the taller, tried to bend forwards and lift George off the ground; George, being slightly the more powerful, used his legs to try to push Jack towards the tree whenever the effort of lifting him became too much or when he managed to lever himself off Jack’s back. There was much twisting and turning (and grunting) and, after Jack’s initial surge, George gradually worked the slimmer guy towards the target tree. With about four metres to go, Jack summoned up all his strength and hoisted George until he made another five metres. When George managed to tip himself sideways, both boys lost their footing. George had played games like this in the past and he wasted no time trying to cooperate with Jack in order to stand once more and simply steamrollered him to within a couple of metres of his home tree before Jack had time to think of spreading his long legs and stopping him. With about two metres to go, Jack was the nearer to the tree. “Score!” thought George and pushed Jack even closer. A brief final resistance delayed George’s victory for very few seconds before Jack’s feet made contact with the target trunk. George’s grunt of victory was resonant.

Jack was exhausted, comprehensively scratched, really filthy – and totally defeated. He didn’t realise that the noises that followed George’s yell of triumph, the ones he made having tried to turn his head to look at Jack, would have translated as, “Good try, mate. Sorry.” For once in his life, George was far from immaculate.

James and Tommy separated the combatants and helped George to free himself. His job done, he might as well enjoy the entertainment unencumbered. He found his bag, located some clean underwear and headed for somewhere private to change. Poor Jack, he was made to kneel again and tied with his ankles crossed but at least the sleep mask had not been replaced.

Lewis untied Jack’s gag and asked him if he wanted to give in. An exhausted but still determined Jack spat out his underpants and said words to the effect of “No way.” Lewis gave him water and replaced the football scarf, which he had knotted in the middle, but without the soggy briefs. He scruffed the tall boy’s hair and tapped him on the cheek. “Good man. Well played.” Jack was not much comforted.

Howard’s Way

Howard knew it was his turn next and had obviously gathered that Jack had only managed to come second in his event but wondered what Nick had in store for him. By the time he could see again, Nick’s feet had been freed and he was twisting and stretching as best he could seeing that his wrists were still bound. Howard couldn’t help thinking that his own comparatively undeveloped musculature was going to be no match for the school’s distance running champion. Nick opened up so that Tim could gag him in the customary manner while Alex freed Howard’s ankles and suggested that he loosen up ready for his forthcoming athletic endeavours. About five minutes later, Alex explained the contest. Howard thought that he had got off quite lightly when he found out that it was just to be a foot race. He knew he’d lose but there didn’t seem to be any obvious snags and he believed that he wouldn’t disgrace himself completely.

The task was simple: both boys would race round the pond with their wrists bound and the first to return to the start would be the winner. Simple. The circuit round the pond is about four kilometres and a lot of it can be run on paths that have been formed over time by the tread of human feet. The pond is fed by several small streams that come and go at different times of the year and it is surrounded by bog and some sand at the western end. Nick knew he had the advantage over Howard in the running but Howard thought he might know something that Nick didn’t.

Both competitors came up to the start/finish line that Tim had scratched with his foot. On the shout of “Go” both boys took off as fast as they could whilst being careful not to lose their footing. Predictably, Nick had outpaced Howard by a good two hundred metres in the first kilometre. All the while he kept to the well-worn paths, he knew that Howard stood no chance of out pacing him unless he fell over several times so he slowed himself down to a safer pace.

Howard was sad: he had a fondness for maps. He knew that there used to be a path that crossed the main stream feeding the pond. It featured on all the older maps he had seen and, when he came to where he thought it should start, sure enough, there certainly was an indication of a path off to the right. He watched while Nick continued on the main path and calculated that he could save himself a good thousand metres, perhaps more, if he took the old path. Nick knew something as well. Howard noticed the indications underfoot gradually disappearing as the ground became more and more boggy. He knew that the old path should pass just to the left of a little flash pond and he saw it gradually come into view. It was bigger than he was expecting. The path disappeared completely and the going underfoot became very slow as Howard’s bare feet sank into the bog. He knew that it would be disastrous to stop and he had to keep going path or not.

Eventually out of desperation Howard stopped to try to take a more detailed look round. He started sinking. His next attempt to move saw him flat on his face, chewing moss. Standing up on firm ground would have been little problem for him but on this surface he had no chance. The only option open to Howard was to roll over onto his back and push against the tussocks of cotton grass until he reached the slightly higher, firmer ground on the far side of the shallow stream. He made slow progress, much to the delight of the spectators, some of whom had brought their field glasses with them.

It must have taken five minutes of crawling on his back before Howard reached the stream although it was difficult for him to tell when he had done so because the banks are not exactly well defined and the ground just gets more and more saturated until there’s enough water to start flowing towards the pond. “There IS a God” decided Howard as he found himself in the stream proper. It had a stony bed! He could stand! The mud encrusted runner struggled to his feet and noticed that his opponent had already passed the direction he was facing and was loping gently along the home stretch. There was no easy way out so Howard just sighed, shook the water (and a fair amount of decomposing vegetable matter) from his hair and face, and started to trudge through the bog carefully until he reached the firmer ground of the path. He might have been beaten but he was not going to finish in shame so the blonde contestant, with his long black shorts adhering unpleasantly to his legs, embarked on a steady jog all the way to the finish line.

By the time Howard had crossed the line, Nick had already been untied and was enjoying a long drink of water. Howard slumped to his knees. “That’s handy,” announced Tim, “just ready to have his ankles bound.” He was as good as his word but Nick approached his defeated opponent, untied his gag and offered him a drink from his canteen.

“Well done mate. You just wouldn’t give up, would you? I probably should have told you about that short cut. I tried it when Morris sent me on a punishment run in my first term here. I got the impression that he was happy I tried it. Good try.” Just like Jack’s had been, Howard’s football scarf was knotted in the middle and tied firmly into his mouth but, also like Jack’s, without the addition of the used boxers that it originally held in place. The two defeated contestants were left kneeling side by side to watch Ollie lay down his life for is country, well, at least for his county.


TBC
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Post by blackbound »

A shortcut sounds like cheating, IMO, and Nick should suffer the consequences!
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Post by Canuck100 »

Great new chapter. I like the competition aspect. Very enjoyable read!
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Post by Xtc »

Thank you. I don't think the established members want the applicants to become too complacent.
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YELLOWBELLIES (4)


Ollie’s Go


Both competitors in the next game were pale skinned but Ben was very blonde while Ollie was dark and somewhat overdue for a shave. Ollie hoped that Ben had picked a form of wrestling for their contest. At least it would be over quickly. He’d dressed suitably for either wrestling or swimming and, in the circumstances, was prepared to undertake any other sort of contest in just his red Arena swim briefs.

Both Ben’s and Ollie‘s ankles were released only to have Lewis and Ritchie tie them again but in parallel this time. “Ollie, the best bit about this challenge is that you won’t be gagged.” announced Ben as Lewis went about removing Ollie’s blindfold and untying his gag with the subsequent forcible ejection of the Calvin Kleins. “Remember that video where the Egyptian forces were training in the pool?” Ollie remembered. “Well, first one to the other side of the pond and entirely clear of the water wins.”

Ollie wasn’t actually looking forward to this but both he and Ben held the RLS Bronze Medallion but Ben also held the Distinction compared to Ollie’s Merit. He’d wondered what the pulling boat was for, now he realised that it was to be the safety boat. Both boys had played the silly challenge before and there was little danger as long as the other boys took sensible precautions. They had.

Ritchie stripped down leaving him in his customary green square-leg Speedo swim briefs and he helped Ben into the water while Nick, who was already suitably attired, helped Ollie. Normally the two competitors were mates but the gloves, as well of most of the rest of their clothing, were off for the next few minutes. Ollie knew that Ben had the edge over him but he was still going to give it his best shot.

James was still trying to get free from his ropes but no one was taking much notice of him at the time.

Nick and Ritchie lined up the contestants leaving them nearly chest deep in the water while Lewis and George climbed into the boat and manned the oars. James signalled the start and both competitors had to swim, porpoise-like until they reached the far bank. The rescue boat kept pace with the bound swimmers and so did Nick and Ritchie. It was a closer race than Ben had anticipated; perhaps he should have chosen a wrestling event after all? Ben’s sodden blonde mop hit the small pebble beach first with Ollie getting there as Ben drew his chest out of the water. Ben slipped a bit leaving the two boys neck and neck but Ben had the sense to swing himself round, just clearing the water as Ollie was still puling himself up the beach leaving his lower legs still in the pond. The two friends lay on the bank, breathing heavily and snorting water from their noses. “Good one, Ollie, nearly had me there.”

Ollie merely continued his heavy breathing while Nick and Ritchie continued clowning around in the water. George and Lewis rowed the unneeded boat to shore and George tried to disembark without entering the water. Lewis couldn’t resist giving just a little push against the bank with his oar decanting the tall blonde kid into the shallow water. George hated not being immaculate but he really shouldn’t have expected any different from Lewis. Lewis might well have been a genius but his pleasures were very simple ones.

Ollie and Ben were almost forgotten in the ensuing chaos until Alex and Tim arrived, freed Ben and untied Ollie’s feet prior to escorting him back to where he had started from and leaving him kneeling next to the other contestants with his ankles tied once more.

“Hey, you’ve forgotten something.” called John’s voice. He’d finally managed to free himself so he picked up Ollie’s football scarf and tied it where he considered that it should have been. He then moved on to Jack and congratulated him on a job well done. “Bet you couldn’t do that again.”

“OK, you two,” interrupted James. “sort out your social lives later. Oi!! You lot, we’ve got some business to attend to.” James was always a bit of a spoilsport. Nick and Ritchie stopped their aquatic wrestling, Lewis and George stopped fighting and rescued the safety boat and all the established members formed up for the valedictory court.


The Jury Decides

James took his usual role while Lewis deliberately flicked the water from his hair onto George. “Members of St. Luke’s TUGs cub, I call this meeting to order. These three residents of the county of Lincolnshire, wherever that is, [incomprehensible vocal complaints ensued] have applied to form a new Chapter next year. They want to be a team called the Yellowbellies. Who will speak for them?”

At this stage things didn’t look too promising for the bound and gagged applicants. They hadn’t won a single event, only Jack had managed to restrain John for any length of time and the hanging jury was looking very smug.

Tim stood up, “I reckon they should be admitted to the club, especially Howard, he was bloody funny when he fell into the bog.” I think that motion could have been described as passed with acclamation as Tim sat down and Howard blushed through the mud that still covered his face.

“Jack can really tie.” said John and sat down. The others agreed.

“Ollie very nearly beat me and he didn’t know beforehand what game he’d have to play.”

“But he IS your mate.”

Ben ignored Tim’s insinuation and Lewis pointed out that, in spite of being in different teams, ALL the members present were really friends, they just enjoyed a bit of tied up competition.

“Before the court comes to a verdict in the case of Yellowbellies versus St. Luke’s TUGs club, who will speak for the Yellowbellies?”

Although Jack was intelligent, he was painfully shy and Ollie wasn’t much better so a reluctant Howard indicated that he would speak. “No, don’t bother to stand.” said Tim as Alex removed his gag. Howard gave Tim a long-suffering look but managed to hold his tongue. The three lads had planned their petition beforehand.

“Gentlemen of the St. Luke’s TUGs Club, I ask you to allow a new Chapter to start next year. It will be called the Yellowbellies. We: Jack, Ollie and Howard will act as gofers twice each beforehand and act as contestants until the end of the year. That’s our best offer.”

“Sounds good to me. Now what about the initiation?” Tim knew there would be no initiation. He was just stirring things up. The Yellowbellies would have enough to put up with as they fulfilled their pledges.

“Shut up, Tim, we’ve got to vote first. Turn yourselves around.” On James’s instruction the three applicants shuffled on their knees until they faced the opposite direction. “Look straight ahead. Does anyone have anything else to say?” No one spoke - a miracle in itself.

“All those in favour of admitting these three applicants, raise your hands. - - - - Thank you, hands down. Will one of you gag Howard again?” Tim moved with alacrity to do it but the applicants couldn’t help noticing that James was in no hurry to announce the decision.

“Before we go, will you please pick up your underwear?” The applicants crawled around until they managed to recover the garments that had previously filled their mouths. Only Jack managed not to fall over as he reached behind him for his briefs. Alex, Tommy and Ritchie untied the applicants’ ankles and James instructed, “Stand up, please.” Still there was no announcement. Howard was thinking the worst and was about to try to speak. “The new prospective members of the St. Luke’s TUGs Club will now be prepared for their return to school. Congratulations, gentlemen, and welcome to the club- - - - always assuming you get the gofering and initial contesting right. OK lads, tie ‘em up.”

-----00000-----

The three boys were blindfolded with the sleep masks and coffled rather like they had been previously but with a subtle difference. Ollie’s rope was tied to Howard’s neck leaving the three boys in a circle making them wonder how they were supposed to walk back like that. James told them that it hadn’t mattered whether or not they’d won any of the games but that what mattered was how they played those games and whether they accepted the rules. Now all they had to do was escape their bonds and get themselves back to school.

“Ciao, boys.” And the established members left.



THE END
They all say boxer shorts are cool,
but little Speedos always rule.
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Xtc
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Post by Xtc »

OK. That's the lot from the St. Luke's lads.

What should I post next?
They all say boxer shorts are cool,
but little Speedos always rule.
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