LONGHOLME ISLAND (mmmm/mmm)

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LONGHOLME ISLAND (mmmm/mmm)

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LONGHOLME ISLAND


Foreword

What follows is a series of four stories concerning a group of youngsters, who consider themselves to be the Pirates of Longholme Island, and various of their visitors:

1) The Pirates of Longholme Island
2) Return to Longholme Island
3) Dave Gets a Little Talking To
4) Jonah’s Journey

I shall post them in a single thread under the umbrella title of Longholme Island and, by the time I get round to posting the fourth tale, I might also have got round to completing it.

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The wonderful map is by a DeviantArt alumnus called Glurpy


English is a peculiar, mongrel language and that leaves us with some interesting situations when it comes to geography. The River Avon is a tautology meaning “The River River”. It’s the same with Longholme, which means “Long Island”; most people who aren’t locals call it Longholme Island and I feel more comfortable with that so Longholme Island it shall remain in this series of stories. (Unless, perhaps, a local is naming it!)

Readers must remember that all the events in these tales took place in 1976, the hottest British summer on record, and such activities as Jonah’s journey were not even considered to be ill-advised at the time. And yes, before anybody asks: it was commonplace for outdoor-type youths to attire themselves in little more than swimming costumes (usually square-leg briefs at the time) and footwear for weeks on end with the occasional addition of a tasteful bush-hat.

So, having got that out of the way, on with the saga - - -
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LONGHOLME ISLAND


THE PIRATES OF LONGHOLME ISLAND
Part 1



Prisoners

“Now you need to know: this is our island, these are our woods, and you are our prisoners.” With these words Trevor, Andy and Chris felt themselves being led away to they-knew-not-where.

It was that incredibly hot summer of 1976 and, two weeks into the summer holidays, the three boys had worn little more than swimming trunks (usually briefs at that time) and sometimes flip-flops for the past ten days. They hadn’t previously, however, been tied together and blindfolded with their hands bound behind them. Neither had the boy who had not yet been gagged previously been threatened with unspecified “doire carnsequences” if he spoke. Oh well, another day, another new experience.

The Cricketers Find the Island

Marian and Dave had taken their son, Andy, and his two friends on a camping holiday with them. Dave was a police officer who expected his son to behave appropriately at all times but his mother moderated that by being an outdoor pursuits leader who expected him to be adventurous and self-reliant. Trevor was tall with good shoulders and his slender figure, which seemed to carry not a spare ounce of fat, was emphasised by the royal blue hi-leg briefs he liked to wear. An unruly tangle of mousy hair topped off the wiry spin bowler. Chris was the captain, and second-best batsman, of the under-fifteens cricket team. He had a good posture but no great muscular definition and was the tactician of the team. He was also somewhat irresponsible off the cricket field, a bright-eyed, bundle of misdirected, Cornish energy. Andy was Mr. Solid, the voice of reason with a helmet of straight, blonde hair. He was also a fast bowler, a skill that was enhanced by his powerful butterfly-swimmer’s triangular physique.

The boys hadn’t been on site long before they noticed the island about 5 kilometres off shore. They quickly found out that it was called Longholme and nearly as quickly discovered where they could hire a pulling boat. Marian and Dave were shortly petitioned by three determined teenaged boys who wanted to explore the island and camp out on it. Even in those days it wasn’t easy to embark on “Famous Five” type adventures spontaneously and Dave said they’d have to wait until tomorrow by when he should have been able to sort out the legalities. Marian knew that her husband would, indeed, do so and she saw the possibility of two days without her son and his over-excited, hyper-active mates around so that Dave and she could concentrate on their tennis and catch up on some intensive reading of really trashy novels.

The next morning, Marian hardly had time to prepare breakfast before the boys had struck their tent, packed a very few clothes and minimal camping requirements (So that there would be room for more important things like beach towels, a football, junk-food, cans of coke, etc.) and raided the food supplies. Dave had found out that it was alright for the boys to camp on the island and that it even had a clean well on it. He next embarked upon what Andy called the “inquisition”. After about fifteen minutes the adults were happy that the boys had packed what they needed (including fresh water, just in case) and knew how to conduct themselves, so they wished them bon voyage.

The sight of three boys clad only in their swimming costumes and bush hats with their rucksacks on their backs would seem incongruous today but in the mid-seventies, and especially at the height of that sweltering summer, no one took any notice at all. The three boys jogged down to the beach where they collected the boat which Dave had hired the previous evening, loaded their luggage and climbed aboard.

Andy, an obvious choice of muscular powerhouse, took the oars and Trevor manned the rudder while Chris took his customary supervisory role and lounged in the bow.

In spite of the early hour and the fact that Andy was attired in only his white, stripy swimmers, he’d soon worked up a sweat. As far as he was concerned, this was a good workout session. As far as Chris was concerned, Andy could just get on with it. Trevor steered the boat into a small creek where Chris jumped out into the water and moored the boat to a tree root overhanging the bank. The trio decided to pitch camp first to leave more time for exploring later so the rucksacks were unloaded and the bashas were stretched between the trunks of a stand of birch trees; there was no point in pitching tents in the heat wave, they probably wouldn’t even need to climb into the sleeping bags that they laid out over their lilos for comfort.

By the time they had established camp and explored the southern part of the island, Chris suggested that they could explore the rest of the island tomorrow but that they ought to return to camp and get a fire ready for the evening meal and then go for a swim. That sounded like a good idea and the afternoon flew by.

The sun was nowhere near setting by the time the fire had been lit and had calmed down to the state needed for cooking and the boys had settled down to swap exaggerated stories. Eventually, Trevor announced that he needed to ‘turn his bike round’ and disappeared to what he considered to be a discrete distance carrying the communal loo roll. The other two didn’t start wondering where he was for a good half hour before calling out and then Andy going to look for him.

The Cricketers Are Surprised

Trevor wandered out of the landward side of the birch copse and found a fallen log surrounded by bracken. He’d tell the others about this later; it was a good spot to mind one’s own business. He didn’t even get the chance to drop his swimming trunks before it happened.

“Just behave yourself and you won’t get hurt,” came the voice in his ear as he hit the ground. Trevor couldn’t see who was talking because they were sitting on his back and someone was tying a strip of cloth round his eyes. As Trevor reached to release the blindfold, he felt both his arms wrenched behind his back and a length of rope wrapped quickly and skilfully round both his wrists and tied off between his hands and his back. The whole capture happened so quickly that, before he had time to cry out for help, he was hand gagged and reminded once more about “behaving himself”. As his arms were forced higher between his shoulder blades, Trevor thought it would be wise to do as he was told. Once he had stopped struggling, the pressure on his arms and the pain as the rope dug into his wrists subsided. “Now, we’re not going to hurt you. We just want to know what’s going on.”

As one of his assailants said this, another released his grip on Trevor’s mouth. As soon as Trevor opened his mouth to answer, another piece of cloth, this time one with a large knot in it, was quickly forced into his mouth and tied off tightly behind his neck. “You didn’t behave. Don’t make a sound from now on or this”, and the person sitting on his back forced his wrists up making the ropes dig in again, “Could get even worse. Going to behave?”

Trevor nodded and he was hauled to his feet and frog marched away.

Perhaps leaving Chris to guard the fire while Andy went looking for Trevor was not the best idea the two lads had ever had but that was the course of action they decided upon. As soon as Andy was safely out of the way, they struck. It didn’t take long for Chris to be face down on the ground and blindfolded with someone’s hand over his mouth and his bound hands being wrenched persuasively up his back. The assailants made no attempt to march Chris away or to gag him properly. He was more useful where he was, shouting for help.

Once he thought that his captors had departed, Chris played obligingly into their hands, shouting blindly for Andy to come to his assistance without being able to see the ambush that was being set. “Oh, I do like it when our hostages do our work for us,” said the guy who was sitting astride the blonde swimmer. The fact that Chris couldn’t see what was going on didn’t stop him from having an opinion which he continued to share with anyone who’d care to listen while Andy was also bound and blindfolded.

Andy and Chris were made to sit cross legged against a couple of trees while Chris continued to give the world the benefit of his opinion. That wasn’t considered so useful now and one of the assailants grabbed him by the jaw and forced his head back. “It’s no use shouting, we’ve already got the skinny mush. We’re the only ones who can hear you and you’re really starting to get on my tits. Now shut up or I’m going to start torturing the blonde matey.”

“Chris mate, give it a rest, he’s right. They’ve got us and they can do whatever they like with us. We can’t fight them like this.” Chris stopped shouting and tried to look out from under his blindfold with very little success at all.

The assailants announced that they needed to get ‘the skinny mush’ but that some of them would stay on guard. By now both Andy and Chris had figured out that there were at least three of the enemy and that they were not only outnumbered but that they had been bound very effectively indeed.

“You OK, mate?”

“I’ll do, save your energy.”

The Pirates’ Change of Plan

The Longholme Pirates, as they liked to call themselves, had sailed their dinghy round to their jetty on the north of the island ready to embark upon their weekend’s activities. They had the run of the island, which they were accustomed to having to themselves, for their frequent tie up games. No one ever disturbed them there and they’d established quite a headquarters in the old cannon emplacement. Today, Dave and his big brother, Stewart, were to be the victims while Roy and his big brother, Rob were to do the tying and give the Lennox brothers tasks to perform to avoid being tortured. Stewart and Dave were stripped down to their running shorts (Adidas three-stripes, just for the record) and had their hands tied behind them and cloth gags tied, none too mercifully, in their mouths. The appointed tormentors took a towel each and ‘encouraged’ their captives to move quickly to the high point in the middle of the island.

Even tied up, the dark-haired brothers took only about a quarter of an hour to get to their destination because, although they didn’t mind being tied up, they weren’t all that keen on being whipped. But enjoyment comes at a price. As Dave crested the hill, he turned round and started trying to talk through his gag. How could he tell the others to be quiet? Dave was twelve years old and not very tall but he already had a deep-chested, muscular frame and the others knew that he was being quite insistent about something. As the other three boys arrived, they looked and very quickly saw why Dave was signalling to them. They didn’t usually see any other people on the island and how unusual to find ones who were already dressed for being tied up.

Stuart and Dave were quickly untied as the Pirates decided that they had a wonderful opportunity to interrogate some spies. They ducked down and managed to observe the spies without being seen themselves. Roy was told to keep his blonde head down and keep watch while the others moved away from the crest of the hill to plan.

The red-haired Rob was the natural leader and he soon had everyone organised. Roy reported that the tallest of the spies was heading their way and seemed to be looking for something. When they noticed the loo roll in its plastic bag that the spy was carrying, they quickly identified his mission and started circling round to where they hoped he might stop.

It was a matter of moments for their practiced hands to have the tall Trevor bound, gagged and blindfolded and marched away to where he would be less likely to be spotted where he was propped up against a tree with Roy left on guard.

The other three Pirates stealthily approached the direction from where they noticed that their prisoner had come. They crouched silently in the undergrowth waiting. They didn’t quite know what they were waiting for but they knew that their prisoner would be missed sooner or later and they were prepared to wait. After a while, their luck was in. The blonde spy went looking for his mate. And it took them no time at all to secure the loud-mouthed one. They didn’t even bother to gag him because he was more useful as bait if he could shout.

Before long, they had all three spies under their control. All they had to do now was to interrogate them but that would be better done at HQ so the freckly, red-haired Rob went to collect their first prisoner.



TBC 
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Post by Gino »

Great story, I'm already looking forward to the sequel :D
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Post by Xtc »

Thank you.
Next part coming soon.
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Post by harveygasson »

Brilliant start to the story and what I'm sure will be an excellent series
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Thanks, [mention]harveygasson[/mention], your support is really appreciated.
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LONGHOLME ISLAND


THE PIRATES OF LONGHOLME ISLAND
Part 2


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Trevor Rejoins His Friends



Trevor was a boy who, shall we say, had big hands and big feet and he was beginning to regret the rather skimpy nature of his favourite swimming costume. He was sure that the fact that he quite enjoyed being tied up was by now apparent to whomever was guarding him. Still, at least his mates couldn’t see him and, as it was obvious that his captors were only boys, he didn’t even feel unduly alarmed. He just felt stupid for having been overpowered so easily.

Rob soon came to help his brother deliver Trevor to the others. To see Rob and Roy together, - yes, their surname WAS MacGregor and yes, their parents DID have a puerile sense of humour - one could see instantly that they were brothers. Roy was like a scaled down version of Rob but, whereas the older boy was a freckled, flaming, red-head, Roy was a very pale-skinned blonde or, at least, he would have been if it wasn’t for his extensive tan. Both had mops of tight curls which their school teachers were always telling them to get cut. They hauled Trevor to his feet and explained that they were taking him to join his friends. Being quite quick on the uptake Trevor figured out that they must have been captured as well.


The Pirates Secure the Spies



After they’d been sitting against the trees for about half an hour, Chris and Andy heard the triumphant return of the MacGregor brothers; a noise punctuated by the occasional muffled grunt as Trevor staggered forwards. Trevor was brought next to Andy, and Rob put his own knees into the back of Trevor’s thus forcing him to kneel with another, rather louder grunt.

“You OK, Bruv?” The answer to Chris’s question was difficult for him to interpret. “What have you done to him?”

“Leave it out or you’ll soon find out.”

“Don’t worry, Chris, it sounds like they’ve just gagged him.” Trevor’s attempted confirmation sounded just like his previous answer.

Stewart, who was as dark as his little brother with the same dark, impish eyes, got a rope and tied it none too tightly round Chris’s neck.

“What the . . .?”

“Anyone else getting shagged off with this kid’s gob-shite?” asked Rob as he prepared a length of knotted fabric. The general consensus was that they had, but it was soon remedied by Chris’s being gagged so tightly that his rictus smile would have put the Joker to shame. “That’s better.” After a few seconds even Chris recognised the futility of his attempts at speech and just decided to go with the flow until a better opportunity offered itself. Stewart dragged Chris unceremoniously across to where Andy was sitting and tied him onto the rope as well before completing the line of captives with Trevor.

The prisoners were hauled roughly to their feet and the ropes around their wrists were checked for security. Rob declared himself dissatisfied and told the other three to bind the prisoners’ elbows as well. As each captive’s elbows were drawn together, the rope round his wrists tightened but not to a very painful extent; (except for Chris whom Stuart considered to warrant special attention) the rope simply limited the scope for struggling.

“Now you need to know: this is our island, these are our woods, and you are our prisoners.” With these words Trevor, Andy and Chris felt themselves being led away to they-knew-not-where.


The Cannon Emplacement



It took the Pirates well over half an hour to lead their stumbling, grunting captives across the island to the ancient cannon emplacement. They declined Andy’s suggestion that it would be easier for them if they removed the prisoners’ blindfolds and muttered things about “spies” and offered to gag him as well as the other two if he didn’t shut up.

By the time their trek was over, the visitors knew a lot about the Pirates but Andy was not invited to tell them about himself or his two friends. The Pirates’ parents owned the campsite where Dave and Marian were camped and they also owned the island of which the boys were used to having exclusive use. Thus, Andy and his friends must be spies or trespassers at least. At that accusation, Andy could restrain himself no more. He was soon gagged just like his mates. The Pirates thought that any confessions ought to follow the interrogation of the suspected spies. It was more fun that way.

The Pirates had made a good job of converting the arc of three connecting rooms of the cannon emplacement into a headquarters even though they resembled nothing so much as brick-lined caves. The first room was the largest and was where most activities took place. That led directly to a smaller room which was set up as a store. Leading off from the storeroom was a third, even smaller room. That was to be the visitors’ dungeon. It was pretty dark in there in spite of the narrow, crooked ventilation shaft which drew air through the whole construction. The doors were low for defensive reasons but at least they could be locked and bolted and the whole establishment was dry.

Being early August, there was still plenty of daylight left and the Pirates were in no hurry to interrogate their prisoners so they helped them duck under the doors and lodged them cross-legged in the furthest chamber which they locked while they ate ginger cake and planned the imminent interrogations. The ‘spies’, being blindfolded and gagged, couldn’t get it together enough to work on one another’s bonds and Andy had a very frustrating half an hour trying to locate any of his companions’ bonds to untie.


Chris Is Taken Away



Eventually the Pirates were replete and ready to get down to business. They decided to interrogate “the gobby one” first for no better reason than that Chris had been first in line while the prisoners were dragged across the island to HQ. The two smallest Pirates entered the dungeon and separated Chris from the others. Sometime after they had “escorted” Chris outside, Andy and Trevor heard what was obviously Chris’s raised voice but they couldn’t decipher what was being said. Shortly after that, even more indecipherable sounds reached their ears followed by unmistakable squeals. Obviously, their friend was being tortured.

In spite of the noises from the tormented Chris, Andy saw no reason to waste time. Now that there were only two boys tied together at the neck, he managed to manoeuvre himself to be back-to-back with Trevor. After a lot of fumbling, during which Trevor was once again relieved that his friend couldn’t see his unavoidable physiological reaction, Andy managed to free the tall kid’s hands but, before any further progress could be made, Roy and Dave returned with a grunting and exhausted Chris hanging from a pole.

“Hang on, Skinny’s got his hands untied. Come in here, Rob.” Trevor resented being called “skinny”. Yes, he was slender but he had broad shoulders, reasonably well-defined abs and neat, somewhat square pecs. Why couldn’t they call him “Lanky” or something like that? He didn’t have much time to consider his resentment before Rob and Stuart arrived in the dungeon.


Chris Interrogated



Once the Pirates had dragged Chris outside, they stood him up and took him slightly away from the HQ and forced him to his knees. Rob suggested that Roy should give him water as soon as his gag had been removed, then they could get down to the serious interrogation.

Following his drink Chris balanced the advantages of shouting for help against any possible reprisals. He made what was probably a wise decision.

“What’s your name?”

“Graham Chapman.” shouted Chris, hoping that the other two captives would be able to hear and subsequently be able to repeat his lies.

“Don’t shout, we’re only here,” said Stewart, “Unless, of course, there’s someone else you want to hear you?” Stewart had a suspicious mind.

Rob continued: “Why are you here?”

“We’re on holiday from Surrey. We’re staying on the campsite on the cliff.”

“When are your folks expecting you back?”

“If we’re not back by eleven, we’re in deep doo-doos.”

“Then how come your bashas and sleeping gear are pitched down by the creek?”

Chris knew he’d been sussed. If only he’d thought, all the Pirates had to do was to ask each of their prisoners the names of their friends in order to catch him in his original lie. How could he cut his losses?

“Sorry, my name’s not Graham Chapman, it’s Chris Trescothic.”

“And when are you due back to the camp site?”

Now Chris knew that not only had he been sussed but stuffed as well. “Not until tomorrow.” The Pirates’ demeanour improved noticeably.

“It doesn’t matter what your name is. As far as we’re concerned, you’re “Gobby” from now on. Understand?” Chris declined to respond. “What’s up? Nothing to say?”

“When he does speak, he lies. There’s only one thing for it.”

“Torture?”

“Torture!”

That probably wasn’t the best time for Chris to protest as Roy quickly gagged him once more, pulling the knotted cloth tightly into Chris’s mouth by tying it once behind his neck and knotting the ends again twice in his mouth. That was even worse than before.

“It’s always more fun interrogating a prisoner when he’s gagged. He can’t say anything to make us stop the torture.” Chris was starting not to like the sound of this.

Dave and Roy helped Chris, reasonably gently, to be face down on the ground so that Stewart could prepare him for his ordeal. He took a long, doubled rope, pulled the bight over the free ends thus forming two loops through which he inserted Chris’s left ankle and pulled them tight. He wrapped the free ends twice round both of his victim’s ankles and pulled tight. Stewart separated the free ends and wrapped them twice round Chris’s right ankle: one above and one below the previous loops. It only needed one knot to secure Chris’s ankles but Stewart added a few more counter turns between them just to make sure and finished off with a reef knot. That left an awful lot of rope for other uses.

The younger boys had already made sure that Chris was in a suitable location for torture “just in case it became necessary” and Stewart threw the free ends of the rope over a convenient bough and caught them as they returned. Both he and Rob then heaved on the ropes pulling Chris a short distance across the ground on his stomach and raising his feet about a foot in the air. That left plenty of rope to enable Stewart to tie the ends off between the prisoner’s ankles. The last part of the “preparations” was when Rob released Chris’s elbows. Chris couldn’t figure out why he should do that. Yet!

Rob turned Chris over onto his back saying to the younger boys, “OK, this one’s all yours. Enjoy.”

Chris was about to learn several things but the first three were:
a) Freeing his elbows had made his armpits more vulnerable to the determined fingers of Dave and Roy;
b) Having his feet raised off the ground even by as little as a foot made it virtually impossible for him to evade his tormentors
c) Wearing only a brief cossie, even his nice, new, sky-blue hipsters, afforded no protection whatsoever from tickle torture.

The next ten minutes were enjoyed to different extents by all participants: Dave and Roy were ecstatic that they got first go with the prisoner, Rob and Stewart looked on with pride as they congratulated themselves on teaching their little brothers so well but Chris enjoyed them far less.

After ten minutes, the dirt covered, grass-stained Chris, who had some time ago given up trying to suppress his reactions, was writhing uselessly, squealing and eventually snorting as he desperately tried to draw breath.

“Rest time.” declared Rob.

“Thank god for that.” thought Chris with a sigh.

“But not for you,” Stuart continued, “Change of shift.” Within ten seconds of Dave’s and Roy’s concerted assault ceasing, the big brothers took over. “Watch and learn, Titch,” said Stuart to Dave as he set about his task. Now Chris WAS in trouble. With all the practice the two older boys had had in the past on their own little brothers, they had become tickling black-belts. Having enjoyed hardly any respite between shifts, another ten minutes saw Chris desperate not to wet himself and ready to sell his own mother into slavery in order to stop the torture. Stuart and Rob stopped just in time.

“Now, next time I ask you a question, what are you going to do?” asked Rob.

“Ennn uuh ooo.” answered Chris in between gasping for breath.

“I hope that was nothing rude.” said Rob as he straddled an increasingly desperate Chris, whose normally immaculate, smart haircut was now adorned with not only dirt but enough vegetable matter for a wren to make a nest.

“Ngghhh! Ngghhh!” Chris tried to reassure him as he frantically shook his head.

“Tell the truth?” As Rob’s fingers took their positions in Chris’s armpits, Chris changed from shaking his head to an emphatic nodding. “Good boy, Gobby.” confirmed Rob as he slapped Chris’s cheek lightly twice and dismounted him.

“OK, find the pole, let’s get him back and find another playmate.” Dave got the bamboo pole that they’d brought for the purpose and, once Stuart had untied the rope lifting Chris’s feet from the ground and Rob had turned him over and re-tied his elbows (but not as cruelly as previously), he and Roy threaded Chris onto the pole by passing it between his legs and between his upper arms. With a barely suppressed squeal from Chris, he was hoisted off the ground as Roy and Dave lifted the pole onto their shoulders and carried him back to HQ like some sort of hunting trophy. Chris was glad it was a very short journey.

It was once Chris had been dumped in the dungeon and unthreaded from the bamboo pole, that Rob was called into the dungeon.



TBC
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Post by harveygasson »

Great second chapter
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Post by Xtc »

Thank you, [mention]harveygasson[/mention]

I hope others are enjoying it as well. (Hint, hint!)
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Post by Gino »

wow, as i expected, great continuation of the story... and i wish i was chris at that moment hehe :D :D
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Post by Xtc »

I am sure Chris would swap with you.

Thanks for the comment.
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Post by drawscore »

Interesting. Sort of like a page out of one of my own tales, but with some differences. Your boys went out and got captured. Doug went out hoping to be captured, so he could get tied up, then show off how good he was at getting loose.

One was described as being tall. Tall teenagers are usually skinny, too, and can slide their hands under their butts, step through their tied hands, and untie themselves with their teeth.

They all appear smart, and, if they haven't already, should quickly figure out that if they aren't tall and skinny, if they can get back to back, they can pick their tied hands free. Also smart enough, that if they have their hands free, they can quickly put them behind their backs and pretend to still be tied, just in case a captor comes to check on them. (and sometimes. even tackle and capture the captor, even with their feet still tied.)

Kids are usually quick to figure shit out, then use that knowledge to their advantage. (Well, occasionally there's one with a brick for a brain, whose hardest five years of life were the third grade, but thankfully, they are few and far between.)

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Post by Xtc »

The visitors (or at least the models for them) were genuinely smart.
The Pirates (other than Dave) have no basis in reality so I have no comment to make on that front.

Thanks for the response and we'll just have to wait and see how the cricketers deal with their situation.
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Post by Xtc »

LONGHOLME ISLAND


THE PIRATES OF LONGHOLME ISLAND
Part 3


Andy’s Work Undone


“Naughty boy,” said Rob as he took Trevor’s chin in his hand. Trevor shook himself free as Rob continued, “But Blondie here must have done it. We need to think about this before interrogating Skinny.

“OK Roy, show us what you can do. Use some of that trailing rope to hog-tie Gobby. Help him to keep out of trouble. Roy set about the task with alacrity. He threaded the rope up between Chris’s upper arms and pulled his ankles towards his elbows until his hands touched his heels. Once he’d threaded the rope between Chris’s ankles and once more between his arms, he pulled tight again pushing his foot against the ropes round Chris’s ankles to remove as much slack as he could. Trying not to release the tension, Roy fed the rope ends between Chris’s ankles once more and tied off round the hogtie rope. Chris didn’t manage to express his appreciation of the slight loosening of the hogtie as Roy finished off and released his feet.

“Nine out of ten?” asked Roy.

“Nine out of ten. Well done, Tiddler, we’ll make a tier of you yet,” confirmed Rob proudly as he ruffled his little brother’s blonde curls.

“You know last time; when you tied my elbows to a stave? Can I do that to him?” asked Dave keen to have another go with the prisoner.

“No, he’s just been tortured. I think that’s good enough. That one’s yours. We need to make sure that he can’t get around as well as he has been though. Show us what you can do.” Dave looked at Andy who had been thrown to the ground and who had Stewart sat on his back idly flicking his ears at intervals. “Use a long rope; he’ll be going for interrogation soon.”

Stewart then put his mouth to Andy’s ear but made no attempt to talk quietly. “My little brother is going to punish you for untying your skinny mate. Resist in any way and I’m taking over and I’m bigger and stronger than he is. Get it?” and he pushed Andy’s head into the ground. Andy thought that it would be better if he didn’t reply.

Dave wasn’t quite as good as Roy at the job and only scored an agreed eight out of ten. Andy was glad he hadn’t been subjected to a ten out of ten. Stewart then addressed his little brother, “You know what you wanted to do to Gobby over there? Do it to Blondie here. That should stop his rescue activities.” Dave’s eyes lit up as he went to the store room to get a stave. He lashed it quite skilfully to Andy’s elbows and secured it round his body leaving more than two feet of stave protruding on either side of his subject.

“God job, Little Brother. Well done.”

Dave beamed and asked, “Should we turn him over onto his back now, like a turtle?”

“No, too painful. Unless you want to stay and look after him and miss out on torturing Skinny.” The athletic Trevor was building up resentment here. “He won’t be able to turn over even on his belly.”

Rob went round the prisoners adjusting the blindfolds just in case they’d been worked loose and threatening anyone who managed to untie any of his bindings from now on with terrible Pirate retribution.


Trevor’s Torment



Ever since the Pirates had realised that Trevor’s hands were free and that Andy must have done it, Stewart had been sitting on Andy’s back applying a little gentle ear-flicking more with the intention of being annoying than causing serious distress. He certainly succeeded in that. Trevor in the meantime had been accommodating Rob who made no attempt to re-tie his wrists, there was no point all the while his elbows were safety secured. Rob had spent his time giving Trevor alternate bare feet to sniff as he seated himself on Trevor’s back while complaining to Rob that his seat wasn’t as well upholstered as Rob’s own. Trevor tried to avoid the feet by turning his head away from which ever foot Rob presented to him only to find it immediately replaced by the other. Even when he tried to face straight down, thus causing him to snort the fine, dry sand that formed the floor, not only did no one say, “bless you” when he sneezed but he only succeeded in giving Rob a choice of feet to use. The ungrateful Rob even told his unwilling seat to stop wriggling and reached back to slap his arse whenever he thought Trevor wasn’t making him comfortable enough while he watched the younger boys tie up his friends. Trevor wasn’t enjoying this part as much.

Once Chris had been hogtied and Andy had been prevented from turning himself over or even getting his hands into a position where he could untie his swim-suited mate, Rob told Dave and Roy to take Trevor for interrogation.

Each of the younger brothers slipped an arm between Trevor’s bound arms and his body until their hands gripped his shoulders. As they levered Trevor upwards to ensure that, not only would he be in pain if he resisted, but that he wouldn’t be able to slip from their grip, he found himself bent over. He didn’t know that he was being made to duck to get himself under the low door and he seriously wondered why his captors were making him walk sideways. Once Trevor had registered that he was in the open again, he was allowed to move forwards but he was still kept bent over and forced to move faster than allowed him to keep his footing consistently.

The fifteen-year-old hadn’t yet realised that his escorts were both so much younger than he (At that age, two years is a VERY great difference in ages.) but he did realise that they were quite a bit shorter and found being forced to bend so low to the ground whilst being sped along a far from comfortable experience. He did, however, get an impression of Dave’s muscularity as his left shoulder was gripped firmly and his arm forced uncompromisingly upwards. With Roy putting stress on his other arm, the rope dug into Trevor’s elbows and he was almost grateful for being thrown to the ground once he’d reached his unknown destination. What was the use of having his wrists free when he was still completely defenceless?

“You know, with his elbows tied like that, his armpits aren’t going to be too accessible.”

“Suppose we’d better tie his wrists then.”

“Nah, let’s do something different with him. You two, get his ankles tied to his thighs.” The younger boys set to with a will and Trevor soon had his heels drawn up close to his arse. His involuntary intimate reaction was not good news. He only hoped they would keep him face down. “OK, get him onto his knees.”

That wasn’t the easiest task for the two smaller boys who had to support their wiry prisoner with only his knees in contact with the ground. Stuart quickly threw a rope over the same branch that had held Chris’s feet off the ground only recently and with exhortations to hold the “long streak of bat’s piss” still, both he and Rob brought the ends of the rope down between Trevor’s upper arms and pulled them tight as they brought them back up again.

“Come on, hold him up.” That was easier for Dave than for Roy even though he was the taller of the supporters but the rope ends were soon wrapped individually round Trevor’s arms and tied off. There was very little slack when Roy and Dave let go but there could have been a lot more before Trevor could have more than his knees on the ground.

“OK Skinny, listen up.”

“Ngghhhh!” Trevor wasn’t happy with the name but his physiology seemed to be demonstrating that he was less unhappy about something else. In those days, there were no digital cameras or mobile phones but Trevor easily recognised the sound of a Polaroid camera as the photo appeared from the front.

“Alright, he’s all yours, kids, do a good job.” said Rob as the Pirates examined the photo. “I don’t think he’ll want anyone seeing this.”

Ten minutes later Trevor found himself still swinging helplessly from his elbows and hoping that the little bastards wouldn’t attack his unprotected feet like that again. They didn’t. After another ten minutes, though, he was gasping through his gag, grunting and sweating following an all-out random assault on the rest of his body. “Right, stop now, he’s obviously enjoying himself too much.” Trevor could no longer care if anyone noticed but he really needed to micturate.

His interrogation followed and, as Chris had been, he was offered a drink once his gag had been removed. Water was the last thing he wanted to think about so he declined. His answers backed up what Chris had said (once he’d stopped lying) and gave further background information on the “spies”. The Pirates were convinced that the intruders were not spies but, as far as they were concerned, were merely inconvenient trespassers. There was even a short time when they thought they wouldn’t need to interrogate Blondie until Rob talked some sense into them.

“Nah, it’s too much fun.”

“And besides, it’s only fair.” agreed Stuart, “the others have been tortured so should he be.” Such unarguable logic immediately won the younger boys over and they prepared to return Trevor to the dungeon.

Trevor declined another offer of a drink before his gag was replaced but did manage to beg to be allowed to take a leak before being taken back.

“I’m not getting his dick out”

“I’m not holding it for him.” Things weren’t sounding good.

“Look lads, we frog tied him, he can’t go far. We can let him down and untie his elbows and, as soon as he tries to remove his blindfold or untie his legs, we can get to him.”

Trevor would settle for the lack of privacy, and his relief, as the rope holding him up to the tree branch was untied releasing him to fall on the ground, was profound. Once the rope between his elbows had been cut, Trevor tried to scramble to his knees. Roy helped him up and said that the Pirates would turn their backs. Trevor couldn’t see whether they had or not and he couldn’t care less; he just extracted himself from his hi-leg briefs and made with what he had.

The lack of a gag allowed Trevor’s sighs of relief to be clearly audible. “Oh bugger, I hoped he’d face uphill,” cried a disappointed Stewart as he turned and noticed that the yellow stream had poured out and flowed safely away from the perpetrator.

Thus relieved, Trevor tucked himself away and indicated his submission by crossing his wrists behind his back and tried to say, “Thank you,” to his captors as Stewart gagged him again. Rob quickly bound Trevor’s wrists and laid him face down for the younger boys to untie his legs. Once Stuart had tied his ankles together with much too long a rope and Roy had retrieved the bamboo pole, Trevor was threaded onto it. Stuart decided to show at least some mercy and used some of the spare rope to run a few loose loops round Trevor’s waist to support his body a bit while they carried him back to the cannon emplacement. Thus, another hunting trophy was delivered to the dungeon and slipped from the pole.



TBC
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love it :D
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Thank you [mention]Gino[/mention] I appreciate the appreciation. (Boom Boom!)
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LONGHOLME ISLAND


THE PIRATES OF LONGHOLME ISLAND
Part 4



Andy’s Anguish


Following some discussion, the Pirates decided that Trevor should have his elbows tied again and that he should be hogtied like Chris. Following more discussion concerning how to stop Chris and Trevor trying to untie one another, Rob had an idea. Andy, who had just been released from the stave, immediately sought relief by turning onto his left side and Chris was pulled over to be alongside Trevor but facing the opposite way. Chris had the stave tied to his elbows and secured to his body in rather the same way as it had been used on Andy previously except that Chris was positioned nearer the end of the stave. Dave then pulled Trevor around until his big brother was happy with his positioning and tied Trevor onto the stave in a similar manner. A simple tie between the boys’ right elbows completed their immobilisation and Roy gave a few pulls on the ropes to test the security of the prisoners.

“Just check those blindfolds before you get up. We wouldn’t want to have to torture them again, would we?” Roy re-tied the cloths and spread them suitably. He also took it upon himself to undo the last knots in Chris’s gag to give him some relief from the discomfort it was causing him. Even Chris tried to thank his unseen comforter.

Stewart went over to Andy and released him from the hogtie but didn’t free his ankles. Once they’d pulled him to his knees, Stewart and Rob gripped Andy just as their little brothers had previously done to Trevor and dragged him out of their HQ. They told Dave and Roy to grab a leg each and they carried Andy the short distance to their “interview” tree.

“OK,” said Rob, “You’ve seen how it’s done. String him up.” Not only had Dave and Roy only recently seen ‘how it’s done’, it had been done to them so often in the past that they reckoned they were experts. The combined efforts of the two soon had Andy with his feet off the ground and his elbows freed. Just for the sake of form, his gag was removed and a few questions were asked. The answers filled in a bit more background on the boys and confirmed what the previous ‘interviewees’ had said.

“OK, so you’re not spies,” said Rob as he replaced Andy’s gag, “But you’re trespassing on our land. And you know what they say: Trespassers will be persecuted.” Rob thought it was a good joke. The others just wanted to get on with the torture. Four boys attacked the blonde muscle man simultaneously. Andy was the most ticklish of their victims that day and there was very little time between the initial gagged laughter and the all-out grunting and snorting that followed. After five minutes, the torturers took a break leaving the sweaty blonde frantically inhaling as best he could while lying on his chest with his feet raised.

Andy’s next five minutes’ torment was at the hands of Dave and Roy whose nimble fingers found just about every nook and cranny on Andy’s helplessly exposed body. The back of his white stripy swimming trunks was now well endowed with grass stains and the front was in imminent danger of acquiring new yellow stains as well. The youngest boys stopped just in time.

With the rudimentary gag in his mouth, Andy’s desperate pleas for mercy could be reasonably clearly deciphered. I wonder why the older boys didn’t seem to understand them. The outcome of their subsequent five-minute assault was inevitable and humiliating for Andy. Once more one of the visitors heard the sound of a Polaroid being ejected from a camera. At least the Pirates recognised when their victim had had enough. “OK, mush, don’t worry, no more tickling for now.” Andy lay in his embarrassment trying to recover his breath and knowing that he didn’t want anyone to see that photo. Once he had been given about ten minutes recovery rime, the Pirates made a proposition to him. Andy was obliged to accept.


Pirate Justice


Image

Back at HQ the two youngest Pirates and their two guests awaited the return of the others. Dave and Roy simply couldn’t resist tickling Chris and Trevor in turn while they waited. The entertainment was enhanced by being able to watch the effect that one prisoner’s spasmodic jerking and struggling had on his fellow sufferer. It was a long hour before Rob and Stewart returned with Andy who, although his ankles had been freed and he was no longer blindfolded, had a stave tied between his elbows and his back again so that his escorts could more easily control him. He’d also been allowed to change into the paisley nylon y-fronts and loose red cotton shorts that he’d brought with him.

“Hi, Kids. Having fun?” asked Stewart as he helped Andy to sidle into the dungeon and forced him to sit on the floor. “Get them off that stave. It’s time for sentence.” Chris and Trevor were separated and helped to sit against the wall alongside Andy. By now, the release from their hogties and the ability to fidget individually was well overdue and unbelievably welcome as far as they were concerned.

“Before we begin, who needs water.” No one did. Andy had been given a drink when he’d reached his own camp while he collected the clothing that his captors allowed him to change into and the others suspected a trick. “OK, suit yourselves.” The eldest boys then removed the blindfolds from Trevor and Chris. This was the first time that they’d seen their captors and seeing the age of the youngest boys was somewhat embarrassing.

“While the blonde matey was getting some clothes, we decided what we’re going to do with you.” Chris and Trevor looked questioningly at Andy who did his best to shrug in spite of the stave. “You’re trespassing on our island.” Chris tried to point out that they’d had permission from the landowners. Rob knotted the gag tightly in his mouth again several times. “Bad move, Gobby. Anyone else got anything to say?” For some reason no one had.

“As I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted: you’re trespassing on our island and we’re going to punish you for it. You’re going to be our prisoners until tomorrow.”

Stewart took over from Rob, “We don’t think you’ll tell anyone. Blondie, Skinny, we know where you live; who do you want to see the photos? Gobby, they’ll explain that to you later. It’s just that, if you care about your mates, you’ll keep your mouth shut. OK?” Trevor and Andy nodded enthusiastically. “Good.”

Rob took over again. “One of you will be untied so that he can look after the other two before being tied up for the night. I don’t think he’ll try to escape and leave the other two to be tortured again. Gobby, you lied to us so you’re going to be kept gagged like that but the others might have their gags removed.” Trevor hoped in some weird way that he wouldn’t be the one who was released but, having seen Chris’s gag, he was relieved that his was much less strict. “Which one’s going to be untied?” Chris was immobile, still seething about having had his gag reinforced, but Trevor nodded his head to the right towards Andy. It was worth a try!

“OK Blondie, you seem to be the people’s choice. Don’t forget - Oh – have you seen this photo?”

Andy’s rejoinder of “Bastard” was fairly distinct even through his gag but the Pirates merely grinned.


Pirate Hospitality



By now even the summer light was in deficit and the Pirates’ camp fire provided much needed illumination outside and Tilly lanterns lit the dungeon and the main room of the Pirates’ HQ. Andy was freed by the MacGregors while the Lennox brothers positioned themselves ready for an assault on Chris and Trevor. “Remember: You run; you even make a false move and its . . .” Once Rob had got that far, Dave and Stewart launched an all-out tickle attack on their helplessly bound prisoners.

“Alright, alright, I can take a hint!”

“Good boy. OK, lads, stop.”

The store room soon yielded two powerful double burners and their associated large orange gas canisters which Andy was required to carry outside and to set up. Before long, supper was underway, supplies courtesy of the Pirates, and the conversation had even taken quite a civilised tone. Andy was always going to ‘behave himself’ for the sake of his friends and Trevor was quite enjoying himself again. Chris wasn’t.

The Pirates set about their meal with a will and Andy had to feed Trevor and Chris before eating his own meal. Trevor was fed and Andy was forced to gag him again. “What happened to your promise?”

“What promise? We said, 'might', now gag him.”

“Sorry, mate.” Trevor’s answering smile could easily have been misinterpreted before Andy tightened the gag in his mouth.

Andy moved on to Chris and untied the bulky knots that were forcing his mouth wide open and the one behind his neck. “Oh fuck, thanks, man.”

“Shut up, Gobby, or it's no supper for you.”

Chris looked at Rob but he knew better than to answer-back by now. Andy fed him and gave him water from a flask. He really didn’t want to gag his friend again; surely, he’d suffered enough? “Please,” he tried, “This kid’s had his mouth forced wide open for hours. Do I have to gag him again?”

“Well, since you asked so nicely, just gag him like you have his mate. That’ll do. But, if he thinks he’s man enough, and starts gobbing off again, YOU have to finish off gagging him and make it TIGHT. Understand?” Andy didn’t answer and simply gagged Chris fairly loosely and hoped that the Pirates wouldn’t notice. “Now do it properly!”

Andy sighed, “Sorry.” and tied the knotted cloth tighter.

By the time Andy had finished his supper, the hot chocolate was warm in a large jug on the fire, a sort of tradition amongst the Pirates. Andy was offered some and told that he could take some to Trevor but not to ‘Gobby’, who had to remain gagged. Trevor managed to drink more than Andy managed to spill down his chest and his gag was not replaced afterwards.

Andy asked about the washing up and the Pirates looked at him as though he’d just landed from Mars. “Get your wrists behind you, Blondie.”

Soon three prisoners were sitting against the dungeon wall and the Pirates locked the door and retired for the night.


Overnight and Afterwards



Through the night, the prisoners made little attempt to escape and Chris’s gag slowly worked its way loose. Trevor and Andy explained to Chris about the polaroids and begged him to keep quiet. He might have been a gobby kid but he was also a good mate. He agreed and the three boys wondered what lay in store for them in the morning. At least the Pirates would have to release them tomorrow before Andy’s dad started instigating search proceedings.

Morning came and with it came Rob and Roy. “OK, you’ve done your time. Breakfast.” First Andy, then somewhat to his disappointment, Trevor and finally Chris were untied. After the almost nightlong conversations, even Chris had become reconciled to not knocking the head off the first Pirate that he could get his hands on.

All seven boys enjoyed the fry-up, and all but Chris seemed to have accepted that what had happened was just a game. Andy told his friends that he’d brought them a change of clothes each when he went to get his shorts and threw a pair of running shorts at Trevor and a pair of yellow mini-briefs and his cut-off jeans to Chris. The two boys returned to the store room and the dungeon to change. As he did so, Trevor slipped a scrap of paper from inside his swimming costume to the tiny pocket inside the waistband of his shorts.

After breakfast the Pirates announced that their prisoners were now officially free and wished them "God speed". It’s just that that wasn’t quite the term they used. Just before the visitors disappeared over the hill, Trevor wished the Pirates “cheerio”.

“You’re welcome. Anytime,” called Rob, knowing that Trevor had his phone number, “Just in case it comes in useful.” Trevor had obviously been economical with the truth when he told his friends what had happened during his interrogation.



THE END
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COMING UP NEXT:
RETURN TO LONGHOLME ISLAND
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Post by Gino »

oh man, that was a really great read and I enjoyed it very much. maybe there is still the possibility to illustrate the next story?? :D :D
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I would have liked that but could not find anyone to do it.
The fourth tale, "Jonah's Journey", (still not complete) has pics from Glurpy, Jason Toddman and LK3869.
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LONGHOLME ISLAND


RETURN TO LONGHOLME ISLAND
Part 1


Return of the Captive



They already knew that the summer of 1976 was the hottest on record and we know now that it still holds that record. The boys’ parents had been on the phone several times that week and Trevor packed for the next few days: one sleeping bag, two swimming costumes, two towels, two socks, two pairs of shorts, two flip-flops, two pairs of briefs, two t-shirts, two football scarves, two rolls of gaffer tape - just the bare essentials. Oh, and his toilet bag – with two bottles of sun-block.

Trevor was going camping with the Pirates for the next few days so he had to take all that clothing just in case the weather changed. At fifteen years old, he was well used to taking the train but the journey from Surrey to the West Country was long, tedious and sweaty even though the widows on the old slam-door trains could be lowered. By the time he’d got to Weston station, his open, short-sleeved shirt was adhering to his back and the last thing he wanted to do was to put his rucksack on over it. He leaned out of the carriage window, opened the door and shouted a greeting as he saw the two boys racing down the platform towards him.

The MacGregor brothers, Rob and Roy, (They were used to the funny looks!) returned the greeting as Trevor disembarked by putting their arms round his shoulders and asking him if he’d brought the necessary supplies. Trevor hoisted his rucksack off the train and tapped the side pocket. Rob took the rucksack for his new friend and the three boys trudged steadily towards the campsite and, more importantly, to the landing stage where their large, old dinghy was moored. It was about a two mile walk and, on the way, the brothers learned more about Trevor and he learned more about them and the rest of the Pirates. They arrived on site, stopped to cheek ice creams out of Stewart’s and Dave’s mother, who was manning the kiosk, and, by the time they had finished their raspberry mivvies, they were on board the wooden boat where they met a swim-suited and bush-hatted Stewart but there was no sign of his little brother.

Following further noisy and friendly greetings, Stewart took the helm while Rob crewed the venerable craft towards Longholme. Practising the kind of true rudeness towards one another that only real friends can enjoy, the short voyage passed quickly. Once moored up, everyone loaded himself with as much cargo as possible and headed for the cannon emplacement. As the newcomer, this place was still strange to Trevor in spite of the fact that he’d only been accommodated there a couple of weeks previously.


Meeting Koff



As they stowed the supplies in their HQ helped by Dave, who was already on the island, it was no real surprise to Trevor to see someone bunched up there on the ground looking up at him.

“Hi,” Said the boy tied up on the ground.

“Oh, Hi.”

“Trevor, meet Kevin. Kevin, meet Trevor, Trev, Kev; Kev, Trev; Trev, Kev . . .” the giggling Dave didn’t quite manage to duck Stewart’s hand as he swiped his little brother round the head.

Trevor knew that he’d come to be the Pirates’ prisoner in their tie-up games so to find another boy in the same position didn’t really surprise him.

“Yes, explained Dave, he’s the reason I couldn’t meet you on the mainland. Someone had to look after Koff.” It transpired that Kevin was invariably referred to as Koff, which was a contraction of his surname.

Rob explained, “He reckons that he can stay tied up for two days without begging for release.”

“How long’s he been like that already?”

“Oh, he hasn’t started yet, he was just being a bit annoying so . . .”

“Koff? . . . Surprise!” As the prisoner looked round to see what Stewart meant, it was too late. He found two football socks, that Stewart had knotted together, stuffed into his mouth. The dark-haired boy quickly tied them round his head rather more tightly than was probably necessary. “That’s better. He’s much less annoying now.”

Koff looked as though he thought he deserved it and only made what seemed to be a token protest. It was difficult for Trevor to gain an accurate impression of the boy. He had a sort of triangular shaped head with mousey, wavy hair cut quite short which sat on top of his head like a sort of mat. He seemed to be quite sturdily built but crunched up like that, it was difficult to tell. He was wearing just a pair of white cotton football shorts and had his knees drawn up between his rope-cuffed arms. He was sitting and couldn’t withdraw his knees due to the old oar that someone had forced between his forearms and the backs of his knees. Roy explained that that’s how the pirates tied their prisoners before making them “cock-fight” each other but that, when they needed to balance on their feet for such a contest, they used a cricket stump rather than anything as long as an oar.


Trevor Settles In



While Trevor prepared his sleeping bag and produced the gaffer tape, which he added to the store in the middle room of the emplacement, the conversations continued and arrangements were made for the evening and for a much-needed meal. Evening was approaching but the August light would last for some time. Trevor wanted to get out of his shirt and jeans and, just like Stewart and Dave, was soon stripped down to just a swimming costume. That was more comfortable. The Pirates advised him to put his flip-flops on as they’d have to collect firewood for the evening’s camp fire.

Domestic arrangements went on apace interrupted only by the occasional grunt from Koff when he needed to be helped to sit upright following a sideways totter that caused him to be propped up painfully by one end of the oar. Eventually the stoves had been lit and what passed for dinner was prepared. Gourmet fayre it might not have been but there was plenty of it.

Dave untied Koff who announced that he was going to get ready for his challenge and headed into the emplacement and towards his rucksack. By the time he returned, dinner was ready.

“Snap!” shouted Dave as Koff reappeared.

“Good job they match.” confirmed Stewart, “After dinner, the new kid gets tied.”

Trevor accepted that. After all, that’s what he’d come for. He’d been in his favourite blue high-leg swimming costume for some time and now Koff appeared dressed almost identically except that his briefs were a lighter blue and he went barefoot. Now Trevor could get a better impression of his soon to be fellow prisoner. He was shorter than Trevor and, although not noticeably muscular, he had broad, square shoulders and a narrow waist atop a powerful pair of legs. The general impression he gave was of being “triangular”; his head, his torso, the rather skimpy swimming trunks and even his legs, as they tapered from the thighs, all emphasised that impression. The considerably slimmer (some would say “skinnier”) Trevor, at fifteen, possibly looked older than he was but the fourteen-year-old looked comparatively boyish.

Dinner was consumed with indecent haste and impressive sound effects, and was followed by vast quantities of “Lyons” ginger cake (half each, shoved in lengthways) and the inevitable “Birds” Custard. Most of the boys were of the opinion that licking the plates and cutlery counted as washing up but Roy did take the Dixie to the well to attend to it while arrangements were finalised. There was a decision to be made: should there be a wide game or should they simply get on with the tying up? Silly question. Koff and Trevor both went for precautionary pees and Koff dosed himself up with “Imodium”.

“He’s gross!”

“Yeah.” confirmed Trevor.

“Right Koff, two days you said. No bog breaks, nothing. Agreed?”

“Why do you think I’ve just taken this stuff?” answered Koff as he threw the packet of tablets in the vague direction of his rucksack.

“OK, you two. Back-to-back. Trev, as the new boy you get Dave and Roy tying you up. Koff, brace yourself, you get the experts.” The two willing victims stood back-to-back. They didn’t match so well like that but the Pirates knew that, once they were kneeling, the difference in height would be insignificant. It was just easier to start the process with the victims standing.

“Link arms.” the blue swim-suited pair did as instructed and, following some adjustments, submitted to having their wrists cuffed with some very impressive lengths of well-worked rope. As the carefully hanked ropes were wound round the five loops between each of the victims’ wrists, they found their elbows being pulled tighter and tighter against one another.

The Pirates inspected their work and pronounced themselves satisfied so far, so Stewart told the two victims to kneel down. Before long they managed the clumsy manoeuvre and ended sitting on their heels. Rob went for the gaffer tape from the stores and tossed one roll to his little brother. “OK, squirts, just like little froggies, please.” Considerable amounts of gaffer tape later found both prisoners with their lower legs fastened securely to their thighs and the pirates weighing the merits against the difficulties of tying their toes together. They decided to get some sisal and tie each of their big toes to the nearer one of their fellow sufferer’s. That removed whatever limited scope the bound boys had previously enjoyed for adjusting their foot positions.

The four tiers stood back again watching as the two captives wriggled against each other trying to get as comfortable as possible. Looking at them, each one was only too obviously well contented with his lot. The soggy football socks were recovered and tied back into Koff’s mouth and secured with even more gaffer tape with the explanation that it served him right for being so annoying earlier. His head fell a bit but he knew that, really, he’d worked for it.

“What about Trev?” asked Roy, “We don’t want him talking to Koff, he might try to comfort him and encourage him to win his bet.”

“Good thinking, Little Brother, give us that tape.” Roy tossed Rob the gaffer tape. “OK, New Kid, lick your lips.” Soon Trevor’s lower face was obscured by layers of his own gaffer tape. As one of the uninitiated, he was surprised by how tightly his lips had been pressed against his teeth.

“Aren’t you going to tape under his jaws as well?”

“No, not this time but, if he wiggles his jaw too much and loosens the tape, there’s always that pair of socks that he wore on the train. If we need to use them, THEN we’ll clamp his jaws shut!” Trevor didn’t completely understand the nuances of Rob’s threat but he did manage to gather the impression that he’d be wiser not to wiggle his jaw too much.

Once more the Pirates stood back to admire their work as Trevor and Koff continued to wriggle against one another for possession of the more comfortable position. “Opps. Forgot something:” announced Stewart, “health and safety!” and he went and stood in front of Trevor while Rob did the same for Koff. “Ready?” Rob nodded. As the prisoners looked up, the older Pirates looked down and, none too violently, kicked their knees wide apart. “There, now you won’t fall over. And Trevor Mate, bigger panties next time, eh?” Trevor blushed and lowered his head. I’m sure that the muffled word he said was “Sorry!”



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

a great continuation of your story. Can't wait to read the rest of the story! :D
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Xtc
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Post by Xtc »

Thank you.
Next part will be up very soon.
They all say boxer shorts are cool,
but little Speedos always rule.
Gino
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Joined: 6 years ago
Location: Germany

Post by Gino »

I'm really looking forward to it :D
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Xtc
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Post by Xtc »

LONGHOLME ISLAND


RETURN TO LONGHOLME ISLAND
Part 2


Trevor’s First Trial



Even in the warmth of the summer evening, the campfire acted like a light to an invasion of moths with the Pirates as the moths. Nobody found the need to put on more clothing and even Koff and Trevor, who were separated from the fire pit by quite some distance, weren’t in need of any extra heat. The unfettered pirates spent a lazy evening spreading scurrilous stories about those not present, discussing girls and football and lobbing the occasional handfuls of small stones at Koff, some of which inadvertently hit Trevor.

The evening passed pleasantly enough (for most of the boys) until it was, by common consent, time for bed. Rob led his Pirates over to explain things to Trevor and his fellow captive, not that they hadn’t learnt their fates as they were being discussed. “Now Koff has to stay tied up outside if he’s going to win his bet. We’re not going to make Trev stay like that all night though. It was no more than Koff was expecting but Trevor couldn’t figure out whether to be relieved or disappointed. He knew he’d come to be the tie-up victim but, being new to the games, he also knew that he could do with stretching his severely confined limbs.

Dave and Roy took their sheath knives in hand and cut the gaffer tape that was clamping the victims’ thighs to their calves. Trevor began to regret the hair that he already sported on his legs. Koff was a bit better off and didn’t squeal through his nose quite so much as the younger boys delightedly ripped off the tape as violently as they could. “Right, if we untie you, you lose your bet so we need to tie your feet before releasing Trev. OK, knees together.” As Koff obeyed, Trevor also found himself having to close his legs somewhat as his big toes were dragged towards one another. “Right, push up.”

Both prisoners pushed against one another until their backsides were no longer in contact with their heels. Trevor thought that he wouldn’t be able to maintain that pose for long but Stewart grabbed him under the armpits and lifted while Rob did the same with Koff. Trevor couldn’t help noticing how muscular the dark-haired boy was as he supported him. Roy had grabbed a leather belt from supplies which he wrapped twice round Koff’s ankles before yanking it tight and buckling it leaving his subject’s ankles strapped closely alongside one another. Once that had been done, Dave carefully cut the sisal holding the captives’ big toes together. As Trevor’s feet were freed, his legs unfurled almost automatically leaving him seated on the ground with Koff still kneeling but having been pulled backwards. Both boys felt the strain on their arms increase as they manoeuvred for comfort.

Once the laughter from the captors had subsided, Rob started untying Trevor’s rope cuffs. It took a surprising (to Trevor) length of time before the ropes were loose enough for him to slip his wrists free. There was no way Rob was going to cut such a precious resource and, once he had released his new friend, he wound the rope carefully ready for its next outing. A climber would have stowed it in a bag having first secured an end to it but Rob just threw it towards the fire. He knew it would be needed soon enough.

Trevor slipped his arms free and Koff fell backwards as his support disappeared. Trevor pointed to his taped mouth with much “mm pp ggn”-ing, asking permission to remove his tape gag. “Yea, get on with it. Unless you want one of us to help.” Trevor decided that a self-guided enterprise would be better and started unwrapping his own gaffer tape from his lower face. It was a good job that his hair was short as he yanked the final rounds of tape from the back of his neck.

“OK, mate?”

“Yeah, I’m good.”

Trevor flexed and jogged clumsily on the spot as his muscles loosened and he involuntarily evaluated his recent experience. He took the can of Coke that he was offered and made very short work of it. Several gratifying slaps on his back and encouraging remarks seemed to indicate his acceptance into the group.

“Thanks, Boys.”


Overnight Arrangements



Koff was lying on his side on the ground and before long had managed to raise himself to a keeling position. Trevor headed towards his rucksack looking for some clothes.

“Whoa! What do you think you’re doing?”

“Getting some shorts.”

“Who told you that you could do that?”

“ Aa- - - nn- “ (I think you’ll get the idea.)

“That’s right: no-one!”

“Wha . . . ?”

“You’re still here as our prisoner. Prisoners don’t get to decide how they’ll dress.”

“Yeah. Sorry.” Trevor accepted his situation and, after very brief contemplation, realised that anything other than that would not have been what he came for.

Attention then transferred to Koff and Roy was sent to collect the oar that had previously held him immobile. Seeing what he considered to be a wooden implement of torture, Koff immediately cupped his delicate parts in his hands, trying to indicate that he needed to take a piss before he was secured for the night. He made no attempt to remove his gag; he knew better than that!

“OK. Get ready.” Rob helped Koff to his feet and Koff bunny-hopped only just to the edge of the encampment. Once there Koff used his cuffed hands to dig himself out of his swimming trunks and relieved himself to the accompaniment of what the others considered to be excessive sound effects.

“I told you he’s gross.”

“Yeah.” agreed Trevor.

Mission accomplished, Koff tucked himself away and Rob helped him back to where he would spend the night and asked if he wanted a drink. Koff wasn’t falling for that and the battered old oar was forced between his elbows and his back. It was quite a tight fit and Koff didn’t swear much. Dave and Roy helped him to sit down, they saw no reason to be too unkind to him yet because they didn’t believe he stood an earthly of winning the bet, and lashed the oar between the trunks of two small trees. Obviously Koff had a certain scope to apply the laws of leverage and even to move, although with some discomfort, laterally. He guessed that his situation was too good to last just as Rob appeared from the emplacement carrying a climbing rope. Before long Koff’s elbows were secured even more firmly to the oar and some clever roping involving oar, trees and teenage boy completely removed the sideways movement option.

It sounded as though Koff might have said, “Thanks, boys.” once his captors had finished. If that was the case, he didn’t sound very sincere. The other boys decided to take the “sleeping under the stars” option due not so much to safety considerations as to the warmth of the August night. Their final act, before they left their prisoner in peace, was to remove his gag and blindfold him with a football scarf. Stewart didn’t want to deprive Koff of any opportunity to beg for release and Dave just wanted to make things more unpleasant for him. Trevor had mixed feelings about spending the night unrestrained but he suspected that there would be plenty of opportunities to keep Koff company over the next few days.


Breakfast on the Island



The August dawn broke on the six boys, some of whom were still more or less in their unzipped sleeping bags and one of whom was sitting, still securely bound and with a football scarf hanging round his neck.

“Oooh, I feel a punishment coming on,” announced Dave delightedly as he re-tied the football scarf over Koff’s eyes.

“Oh, come on, lads; that’s not necessary.”

“What’s 'necessary' got to do with it?” asked Rob as he shoved a piece of knotted fabric into Koff’s mouth in mid-protest and tied it tightly behind his neck. There followed some discussion as to whether they should use some more of their precious gaffer tape to fasten the blindfold and gag more securely into place. It was decided that even a prisoner needed to eat and that it could wait until after breakfast. Besides, they had plans for the gaffer tape.

Once everyone was up, Trevor was acquainted with the nature of the latrine so that he could deal with his necessary early morning routine. I think I’ll gloss over that for the time being. A trip to the well to draw water for hands, faces, necks, teeth and armpits was considered to be sufficient attention to hygiene in the light of the consideration that they all intended to go swimming later.

By the time a breakfast of eggs and bacon was underway, everyone was in just his swimming trunks and the more delicate boys wore flip-flops. The more particular boys had rinsed out what they had worn yesterday and hung it anywhere they could. The more skanky ones were still wearing it. Trevor thought it would be a good idea if he changed. His normal preference was for the hi-leg style that gave him a feeling of freedom and, more importantly, held his cricket-box firmly in place while he batted. He’d also brought a pair of square leg briefs with him so he put them on. They were a yellowy gold colour with thin, dark, vertical stripes. Not his favourite garment but his mum had just bought them for him, they were the current fashion - - and he remembered the previous evening.

Roy drew the short straw and had to feed Koff, whose gag and blindfold he first removed. Koff didn’t end up wearing much bacon but was adorned with plenty of the butter that had melted and leaked out of the bread roll containing it, and a fair quantity of egg yoke, tomato ketchup, and orange juice. No one made any effort to clean him up. His gag and blindfold were replaced and this time Trevor was allowed to tape over them with several exhortations such as “make it tighter” and “use lots, there’s more in stores” and other remarks which drew vain attempts from Koff to object. “Good job, mush, your turn soon.” said Rob in an almost reassuring way to Trevor. Trevor grinned shyly.

Breakfast over and Dave took a turn at washing the two huge frying pans while everyone else except Koff grabbed their towels and headed for the landing stage where they found the tide in and spent the next hour or so diving into the sea, throwing one another in, swearing at one another, swimming, returning to the landing stage, diving in, throwing one another . . . Their pleasures were simple, irresponsible, joyous and almost completely unrestrained.

After a while, even boys in their mid-teens need to rest, however briefly, and the bathers returned to their camp site to get down to the business of the day. Their journey back was noisy, far from orderly and seemed to involve a lot of trying to whip one another with their wet towels. By the time they had hung their towels up to dry, Dave had made a brew and everyone grabbed a few biscuits and went over to sit in front of Koff to goad him and throw beech-mast at him while they enjoyed their snacks.

Once snacks had been taken, Rob went and knelt in front of the still tightly restrained Koff and put a hand on his thigh. “You OK, Mate?” Koff nodded and muffled into his gag. “Want to give in?” There was an even more emphatic muffling noise as Koff shook his head vigorously. “Give me the safe word.” Koff fell silent and shook his head more slowly and deliberately while Stewart explained about safe words to Trevor and told him that his safe word would be “Skinny Kid”. Trevor gave him a look but he understood why it was necessary.

What happens if I’m gagged and can’t say it?”

“Say it as good as you can and one of us will ask you to confirm it. Got it?”

Trevor nodded rather solemnly.

“OK. Need a piss before we start?” Trevor went some distance from the clearing and relieved himself against a tree not knowing when he’d next get the opportunity to do so. He was nervous but excited as he returned. This was what he came for.



TBC

They all say boxer shorts are cool,
but little Speedos always rule.
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