THE SWIM TEAM GOES RECRUITING (2)
Why Me?
Things calmed down a bit as dusk approached and Austin thought that he ought to explain things to their host. “Well, it’s like this, Maestro: you’re a bloody good swimmer. You always turn up at training but, when there’s a competition, you can’t be arsed to turn out. We’re pissed off. We need you and, unless you commit yourself, this is only the first little social event we’re going to organise. You’ll never know when you’re safe. You’ll always be looking over your shoulder.” As Austin said this, the powerful, swim-shorted figure of the Captain loomed ominously over Jason’s head. It was like something out of a cod horror film.
The Captain explained that he was going to cut the tape holding the scarf in Jason’s mouth so that he could remove it. Then they’d adjust the lounger until Jason was sitting so that they could feed him. Once he had manoeuvred his aching jaw, Jason took his chance. “Supposing my parents come home?”
“Do me a favour, do you think I don’t know that they’re not due back ‘til late tomorrow? After all, I AM your best friend.” Jason was busy reviewing Austin’s status.
By the time he’d been fed, Jason started to be able to see the funny side of his situation. After all, he trusted these guys (or so he thought) and, now he knew who they were, he wasn’t frightened anymore and, let’s face it: they hadn’t seriously hurt him and were unlikely to do so. Nooo! They were assholes! What could he try?
Personal Needs
“Hey, you guys, what about a bathroom break?”
“Yeah, I could do with a piss.” and the Captain headed off towards the house. Jason thought that perhaps he’d not made himself clear and questioned the intelligence of his “guests”. The reappearance of the sodden scarf saw a rapid cessation of the insults. “Please. Boys. Let me use the bathroom.”
“What? So that you can leave this wonderful party? What would we do without our host?”
“Please boys, I’m breaking my neck here.” and Jason wasn’t telling much less than the truth.
“What do you think, boys? Put it to the vote?”
“Nah, make him suffer.”
“Let him go as long as he’s supervised.”
“I’m not watching him!”
“Who’s going to take his Speedo down?
“Not me.”
Things weren’t sounding too good for Jason even if they were to let him visit the bathroom. “Alright! Listen! I promise that, if you untie my arms, I’ll surrender after I’ve done what I need to. Scout’s Honour.”
“You’re not a Scout.”
“Alright then, I swear on my mother’s life.”
“She wasn’t looking too well yesterday.”
“Pleeeeaase!”
The Captain returned and put matters to the vote. “Undo his arms and let him take a comfort break? All in favour?” Jason would remember the two who didn’t put their hands up later.
Once more, the zip-ties securing Jason to the sun-lounger were cut and he was instructed to stand and hop over to his house. He struggled unsteadily to his feet and, with more compliments to his friends, attempted to bunny-hop across his lawn. It’s a good job that, although he wasn’t too fond of them at present, Jason was in the “care” of his friends and two of them soon came to his side and supported him in his efforts. Coming to the steps up to the back door, Jason asked his “guests” to take pity and he was carried into the house and put down by the cloakroom door.
Just as Austin was about to free his hands and arms, he noticed something which had become even more pronounced following the involuntary jerking of Jason’s arms during his bunny-hopping traverse of the lawn. “Oh look, he’s starting to work himself free.”
“You’ll have to pay for that when you’ve finished.”
“Oh please, I couldn’t help it, it was an accident.”
“Punishment? All in favour?” Once more democracy proved to be the worst possible system except for all the rest.
“Who’s got the scissors?” By the time his arms were free, Jason had been left in no doubt that his future sufferings would be the result of the people’s will.
Jason was shoved into the cloakroom and warned not to lock the door. That warning was completely redundant as he hopped across to the toilet as quickly as he could whilst trying to prepare himself for micturation. He thought that, while he was there, he’d better sit down as well in the light of “the people’s will”.
“OK, that’s long enough. Come on out or . . .”
“Alright, keep your shorts on. How fast do you think I can move taped up like this?” Jason lurched for the door and opened it. Then, as good as his word, he attempted to stand upright with his hands at his sides. “OK, do your worst.”
“Well, since you put it that way.”
“No, not behind him, we can’t keep him lying on his arms . . .” Things were looking up. “. . .for all that time.” But not by much.
Jason was made to grab hold of his opposite elbows so that his forearms were parallel. A whole roll of tape later and Jason’s forearms were comprehensively mummified in three layers of shiny silver tape and his upper arms had been wrapped so that he couldn’t draw them apart. If that’s all they were going to do, Jason hoped he would soon be able to work his hands free. His “friends” escorted him as he bunny-hopped back to poolside.
The Hot Tub
The Captain explained that his team-mates were going to use the hot-tub for a while before going home and that it was a pity that Jason couldn’t join them. If he promised to behave, though, they wouldn’t confine him any more than he was confined already. Jason lied that he would behave.
“Hey! What about the punishment we promised him?”
“Oh sorry. I forgot about that. Sorry, Jase, the people have spoken.” I doubt whether all the team members had actually been born out of wedlock but Jason seemed to think they had.
“What can we use to gag him? I don’t want to keep hearing offensive gynaecological terms.”
“Since when have you been so fussy about foul language?”
“Ooo, about two minutes ago.”
Much puerile laughter followed while the Captain hand-gagged the slender musician and pulled him down onto the lounger while Austin went to retrieve something from the pool. “Here, try this, it should be clean.”
Jason saw the hollow rubber ball being brought up to his face. “You are NOT putting that in my mouth!”
“You two, you’re on feet. See if you can persuade him.” Two of the team knelt and clasped Jason’s bound legs firmly and started roughly tickling his feet. It was a good job he'd just been to the bathroom. He fell backwards across the lounger once he’d been released from the hand-gag and started writhing desperately. The wriggling, giggling, gasping and eventual snorting and squealing proceeded for about five minutes before the begging started between attempts to draw breath.
“What was that? You want us to continue?
“Ah- a, ah-a, no you sssff bastards.”
“I think he does.”
“OK. No trouble.”
After another five minutes Jason could take it no longer especially with the Captain kneeling astride him making any evasion impossible. “OK, hK, hK, I give.”
“Say, ‘Please put that lovely blue ball in my mouth.’”
With the unrelenting attention still being paid to his feet, it must have taken the prisoner nearly a minute to say the sentence to his torturers’ satisfaction. “Ah, shoot. I suppose we’ve got to stop now?”
“No, take a few seconds more just to persuade him not to change his mind.” Even in the relative cool of the evening (although all the other youths were still in only their swimming shorts) Jason had raised a sweat. Austin announced that trying to sweat off the tape was another attempt to escape and that Jason should be punished for it.
“Watch it, Austin, I know where you live!”
“And . . . ?”
Although the tickling had stopped, the two torturers remained in position ready to resume the torment just in case Jason changed his mind. The blue ball was slipped into his open mouth and another roll of tape was started and applied generously around Jason’s mouth and chin to make sure it stayed there. The guy that wrapped it round him pressed the end carefully into the somewhat smoothed out contours of their victim's face “Just to make a nice, tidy finish.” and patted his cheek humiliatingly.
The taste of swimming pool chemicals seemed to fill Jason’s mouth as much as the ball did and the smell permeated his nose.
“Why stop there?”
“Wha’ d’y’ mean?”
“Well there’s a lot of tape left on that roll and we’ve got plenty more besides.” This was sounding ominous. “Let’s blindfold him as well.”
“That’ll hurt like ninety when he takes it off.”
“What’s on him already’s going to strip his body hair so what difference does it make?”
“Oh, come on. We can afford to show some mercy.”
“Alright then, has he left his boxers in his sports bag?”
“I’ll go see.” Jason saw humiliation being piled on humiliation as the boxer-briefs were retrieved and planted on his head.
“Not over his nose.”
“Oh, OK. That better?” The orange waistband was left over Jason’s eyes with the grey fabric forming what one of the team described as a rather stylish hat. Jason’s slim figure meant that the elastic could have pretty well held the hat in place without help from the tape but, as the Captain pointed out, it would be a shame to waste it.
Jason couldn’t see who was wrapping his head but, by the time they had finished, all that was visible of his face was his nose. He then felt someone fidgeting with his hair. He didn’t find out until he saw the photos later that he had a tuft of hair that someone was presently “styling”, protruding from one leg of his underwear.
Jason was helped to make himself “comfortable” on the sun lounger and the others went to tell unlikely stories and to drink in the hot tub.
It was quite dark before the team-mates decided that it was time to go home but Austin knew how to operate the exterior lighting and Jason’s “guests” stripped, towelled down and dressed ready for their homeward journeys. Jason wondered what was going to happen to him; he even started to wonder whether they’d forgotten him. He didn’t have to wait long to find out.
Time for Bed
“Right Jason, thank you, it’s been a fine party but we can’t leave you like that all night.” The erstwhile host heaved a massive sigh of relief.
“No, you might catch cold.” Now he became suspicious.
“Got another roll of tape?”
“Yup. Plenty.” Jason was suspicious no longer; now he KNEW he was still in the shit.
“Goodnight.”
Still unable to see or offer any effective resistance, Jason was hauled to his feet and threatened with un-specified torments if he didn’t cooperate. His sarcastic reply was totally indecipherable.
Another roll of tape was started and Jason felt it as it was worked tightly round his ankles and then wound gradually up his legs, over his blue speedo to the top of his hips before someone started wrapping a second layer back downwards again which got to just below his knees before the roll was exhausted. One of the other swimmers took over from where his comrade had left off and, once the tape bandaging reached Jason’s feet again, he started slowly back up once more. This time the tape reached to just underneath Jason’s bound arms before the “bandager” wound a few final layers finishing at the developing mummy’s waist.
“OK, who’s turn is it?”
“I’ll have a go.”
“Start there. Not too tight.”
Jason nearly lost his composure as he felt the first touch of the tape on his neck. But, after assurances that not only were they not stupid enough to strangle anyone but that, if he didn’t stop struggling, certain photographs would soon be on their way to certain young ladies and, therefore, shortly afterwards probably to all their friends as well.
With the blue ball being held firmly in place no one had to hear the mangled gynaecological references that time round. To cut a long story short, Jason was soon completely encased in black gorilla tape, three layers thick. Even his shoulders had been included. Jason could hardly bend his legs as he was carried and laid down again. He didn’t know it but someone had flattened his sun-lounger again and that was where he would spend the night.
“Do you think he’ll be safe there?”
“He might roll off.”
“We can fix that.” Very shortly Jason was attached to the lounger by the selection of belts that the swim-team had brought with them. “That’s better, all safe now.”
There was much somewhat ostentatious noise as the “guests” departed and Jason suddenly felt very alone and he was starting to feel very afraid.
He didn’t know how long he’d been there before he heard the voice.
TBC
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