JT IN EXILE (mmmm/mmmm)

Stories that have little truth to them should go here.
User avatar
Xtc
Site Admin
Site Admin
Posts: 3428
Joined: 6 years ago
Location: Not deep enough into the Forest

JT IN EXILE (mmmm/mmmm)

Post by Xtc »

You might remember Will and James from this little tale http://www.tugstories.com/viewtopic.php ... a93b4fca71
Well. they obviously couldn't let the situation go unavenged, could they?
They all say boxer shorts are cool,
but little Speedos always rule.
User avatar
Xtc
Site Admin
Site Admin
Posts: 3428
Joined: 6 years ago
Location: Not deep enough into the Forest

Post by Xtc »

 JT IN EXILE (1)



JT was changing his mind; perhaps this place wasn’t so bad after all. Hanging there from the tree, wearing just his baggy little white boxers, with his feet barely in contact with the ground made him think that things were looking up.

----------0000000000----------0000000000----------
 

Jason wasn’t looking forward to having to go to England for three years while his father, also Jason, - that’s why he was always known as JT – worked out an ICT contract. His dad had been there some 25 years ago and said that he enjoyed it. But his dad had been in London and JT was going to what he was told would have been a one horse town if the horse hadn’t been put down last week. He had also heard that England was always cold and that it rained constantly.

----------0000000000----------0000000000----------

However, things progressed and JT and his family ended up in a traditional English cottage in the heart of the Forest. No more TUG buddies; he had inherited a love of TUG’s from his father. No more sunny summer days, or so he thought.

At least he had a great school to attend where a lad called Tom was asked to buddy-up with him until he found his feet. A stroke of luck, Tom and his three mates were about to undertake their Bronze Award practice hike but Karl had withdrawn leaving them without enough members to make a viable expedition team. JT, having been told that it involved an overnight hike using a wild site, quickly volunteered to make up the numbers in spite of the English weather and the infamous deer/sheep tics.

It came as a bit of a surprise to JT that, being July, the sun shone and the day time temperatures regularly exceeded 21º (or 70º to JT). The Saturday hike went without incident, all the Brits were very skilled Queen’s Scouts and they pitched camp in the middle of a high stand of ancient beech trees with a view all round where red deer were known to graze.

Their supervisor visited them, checked all was OK and departed for her own bed for the night by eight o’clock saying that she would meet them at CP1 the next morning. The sun didn’t set until well after nine o’clock and the time was spent exploring, tree climbing, stick fighting and throwing beech mast at one another.

Not too late, the boys decided to turn in.

----------0000000000----------0000000000----------

The Sun rose early and it was fully light before 4 o’clock. When JT needed to leave his tent, he was taken by surprise to have his arms grabbed and twisted behind his back and to find a hand clamped tightly over his mouth.

JT didn’t take after his father in build; he got that from his mother. However, he did have his father’s brown hair and shortsightedness, although not quite as extreme as his father’s. He couldn’t bring himself to wear glasses and favoured contacts. He was pale skinned and slight with a narrow waist, broad shoulders and well-defined pecs. He was the kind of kid that could have got a job portraying an Elf in Lord of the Rings.

“Keep quiet, Yank, if you know hat’s good for you”, came a voice. “Promise?” JT nodded as best he could with a hand clamped over his face. “I’m sorry you got caught up in this, mate, but we’ve got business with the other three and we can’t afford to have you making a noise yet. The hand over his mouth was not removed.

Not having put his lenses in, JT’s immediate surroundings were not all that clear to him but he could see the distinctive outlines of Aiden and Jonny who seemed already to be sitting against a yew tree not far from the tents.

----------0000000000----------0000000000----------

OK, I suppose I’d better get this narrative in order.

Aiden, Tom & Jonny were members of the Broadhurst warband. As is traditional, they were in dispute with the corresponding warband from Limewood. Let’s face it, they were fair game but JT hadn’t been advised of the situation.

As all the boys went to the same school, the Limewood warband easily got to overhear Aiden’s team planning their expedition. They planned to capture the team early on the Sunday morning before the supervisor arrived. If they couldn’t free themselves in time, that was tough! It would pay them back for when they delivered Will and James bound and gagged to their own front doors last week with large pink bows round their necks. At the time they didn’t even know that the supervisor was not due to meet them on camp. Bonus!

The Limewood “warriors” arrived very early (about 3 o’clock) in the morning. The plan was to pick off each of the team as they left their tents to answer the call of nature. They knew that the snag was that Tom slept like a stone giant and didn’t ever get up early. Not knowing JT very well, they hoped that he was merely human and would need to relieve himself before any civilised teenager would want to get up and stay up!

The first one out was Aiden; he’d looked like a sixteen year old since he was twelve. Not very tall now that he was sixteen but very solidly made. Usual routine: three men waited beside, and well behind the entrance/exit of the Vaude Hogan in which Aiden & Jonny were sleeping. As soon as Aiden emerged, wearing only his light grey tracksuit bottoms, he was hand-gagged and taken to the ground, not an easy task with such a strong victim. Surprise ensured the success of the capture. First success: Aiden didn’t manage to utter a sound. His hands were quickly bound behind him and he received an offer, “Naked or dressed?”

Aiden stopped struggling as an indication that he didn’t want to be stripped.

The Limewood warband had come well equipped: hard plastic balls, football socks, lots of gaffer tape and cable ties and even more rope. Oh, and just a modicum of whipcord for any recalcitrants.

Aiden had obviously surrendered so the first action was to insert a wadded football sock into another, fit it into his mouth and tie it very firmly round his head. To ensure that the other boys were not alerted, Aiden’s mouth was wound with several rounds of gaffer tape. This was probably more ritual than necessity because Aiden knew that the “naked or dressed” offer was still in place. He was then taken across to the nearby yew.

His long, dark blonde crew-cut no longer stood up as he would have liked and his arms were drawn up into the small of his back by a rope halter. The rope was doubled and both ends passed through the bite in the middle and pulled tight around Aiden’s wrists. A double figure of eight was tied at the base of the victim’s neck and both free ends passed in opposite directions around his neck and knotted off behind him. This left the prisoner with the choice: relax and breathe easily or . . . Aiden wasn’t stupid so he chose the easy option.

The boys having used Hogans, there wasn’t a lot of room for storage so the rucksacks were put into black plastic bags and left outside. This made it easy for the Limewood band to help themselves. Aiden’s first aid kit was located, obviously near the top of a pocket, and a large piece of Elastoplast was applied across his eyes and pushed firmly into place.

Aiden was positioned with his back against the yew and made to sit down. His ankles were bound with gaffer tape as were his knees. Just as a refinement, his big toes were tied using a handcuff knot made with whipcord. This was pulled tight and several more loops added before being tied off and tightened between his toes.

That was Aiden.

Jonny had obviously been disturbed by Aiden’s exit and he was wondering why his tent-mate had not returned. Now he was awake, he got fed up with “crossing his legs” and could resist no longer. As he left the tent he was wearing only his boxers that had the brown waist-band and the cartoon characters printed on them.

Just like Aiden, he was taken to the ground, gagged, and trussed up. His wrists were drawn up high between his shoulder blades and his legs gaffer taped together. He was made to bunny-hop across to where Aiden was sitting, turned and made to sit. He was then blindfolded with the first discarded, dew-sodden tee-shirt that his ambushers could find.

Jonny was as tall as Aiden but very slightly built and he had a fondness for over-tight clothes. He sported a short, darkish Tin-Tin type haircut. He began to curse his bladder.

That was Jonny

The muscular lad and the slim one were easily recognised by their outlines even though JT didn’t have his contacts in.

One of the Limewood warriors might well have apologised to JT but the warband couldn’t afford to show any mercy. It was important to keep him out of their hair while they “reasoned” with his newly made friends.

As the warriors saw it, the first necessity was to silence the unfortunate newcomer, not because he would have woken Tom, but because the attackers didn’t want to hear what they assumed would be his protests and pleas for mercy. Just shows how wrong you can be.

A short, hard rope was located and an extended blood bite tied in one end. JT’s head was jerked backwards and the thickened rope was shoved into his unsuspecting mouth. The free end was passed through the bite, pulled tight and fastened. This wouldn’t silence JT but it did force his mouth open and made him totally incomprehensible.

Jason found someone sitting on the small of his back and felt ropes being tied tightly above each elbow. His forearms were then forced parallel and his wrists fastened to the opposite elbows. Just a few turns more around his wrists and below his elbows and then the tape came into play. JT was glad he was face down so that his captors could not see his “reaction” to his situation.

Someone started at JT’s left elbow (and right wrist) and wrapped gaffer tape closely round his forearms until the other elbow (and wrist) was reached. A few turns round the right arm just above the elbow and then the tape was wound back towards the left arm where a few more turns were applied.

JT’s captors seemed to be looking for something, then they found it: a straight stick nearly 2 metres long. JT was lifted to his feet. A long rope was looped round the back of his neck and the ends passed under his armpits and both ends were then wound round the stick several times pulling it close to his shoulder blades and forcing his arms backwards. The ends of the rope were lifted outside JT’s arms and tied together forming a triangle of rope, stave, rope.

Someone placed a rucksack on the ground in front of JT and ordered him to stand on it. He did. The free end of the rope was then thrown over a tree branch just above a fork. As it came back down, the free end was pulled forcing JT’s arms upwards and him to stoop. The rope was tied off at the top of the triangle allowing JT a bit more slack. Then the rucksack was removed from under him.

Hanging there from the tree, wearing just his baggy little white boxers, with his feet barely in contact with the ground made him think that things were looking up.


TBC
 
 
 
 
They all say boxer shorts are cool,
but little Speedos always rule.
User avatar
Veracity
Moderator
Moderator
Posts: 282
Joined: 6 years ago
Location: The Prairie
Contact:

Post by Veracity »

Another XTC classic revived. I envy those who are reading this for the first time.
User avatar
Xtc
Site Admin
Site Admin
Posts: 3428
Joined: 6 years ago
Location: Not deep enough into the Forest

Post by Xtc »

Thanks for theat reaction.
They all say boxer shorts are cool,
but little Speedos always rule.
User avatar
FelixSH
Centennial Club
Centennial Club
Posts: 448
Joined: 6 years ago

Post by FelixSH »

Nice one. I like the narrative tricks (or whatever you call these things), having start and end be the same is something I enjoy most of the time.

It does read a bit chaotic, with the fast jumps between time periods, but that's not a bad thing. Just makes for a slightly more challenging first read. Always nice to find some playfulness in the structure of a story.

Thanks for writing, I'm looking forward to the next part. And when I find some more time, I will read through the stuff you already wrote. ;)
Image

Provided by bondagefreak
Click on the banner to get to the story

For more of my stories, click here.
User avatar
Xtc
Site Admin
Site Admin
Posts: 3428
Joined: 6 years ago
Location: Not deep enough into the Forest

Post by Xtc »

Thanks for that analysis. It's good to know what techniques work.
They all say boxer shorts are cool,
but little Speedos always rule.
User avatar
Xtc
Site Admin
Site Admin
Posts: 3428
Joined: 6 years ago
Location: Not deep enough into the Forest

Post by Xtc »

JT IN EXILE (2)


The Limewood lads had just one more victim to extract from his pit. Even though they wanted Tom to emerge as soon as possible, there was no point in torturing one of the others; Tom wouldn’t hear it even if they weren’t gagged. The only option was a direct assault. They finished unzipping the front bell of the tent and, with the inner tent already having been opened when JT exited, knelt down and pulled Tom’s sleeping bag (and Tom) out of the tent.

By the time that had happened, even Tom was vaguely awake.

“Surprise!” said his captors, giving him an invigorating slapping.

“Oh, crap”, or at least that was what Tom tried to say. He should have known better; the “a” sound provides the perfect opportunity for the un-prepared victim to be gagged. Very quickly one of the rubber balls, that had already been encased in a football sock in readiness was stuffed into his mouth and tied off behind his head. There was no need to add tape because all the other targets had been captured and the campsite is very remote and surrounded by boggy ground. Unless one knows the only narrow, dry approach, it is better avoided.

Don’t you find that sleeping bags with two people astride them make it very easy to restrain their occupants?

Being face-up Tom was the only captive who stood any chance of recognising his captors. Not that there was much doubt. He took mental notes.

He noticed JT hanging from a nearby tree. It was a shame that their American visitor, without his lenses, would not be able to see his belated, “Sorry, Mate” look. As far as Tom was concerned, JT was innocent and should not be tortured, whereas the rest of them were fair game. All’s fair in TUGs and war!

With his mouth filled by a hard rubber ball, Tom couldn’t plead on JT’s behalf. But he did try. He just didn’t understand how disappointed his slightly built new friend would be if he had succeeded.

Normally by this stage Tom would have surrendered in the hope of receiving less harsh treatment but he was determined to plead JT’s case and kept up the vain attempt to be understood. I’ve said that there was no need to add tape but the Limewood lads didn’t agree. The unmistakable sound of gaffer tape being unravelled preceded Tom’s mouth being sealed and then secured by two further rounds of tape. He was not looking forward to removing it from the short hair at the back of his neck. With a, “nngh!” sound Tom abandoned the unequal struggle.

“Morning, Tom, nice day.” It was Will’s voice and he was about to take his revenge. “Have you met my mate, James?” James’s dimpled face with its lop-sided grin hove into view over Will’s left shoulder holding a roll of gaffer tape. That was the last thing Tom saw.

James un-zipped Tom’s sleeping bag negotiating the knees of his mates who where pinning him to the ground. There was still no way Tom could move his arms or his legs. After last week’s outrage, the Limewood guys were out for revenge and the gloves were off. “How do you want to be dressed?” asked Will.

Not being thick, Tom caught the implication. He relaxed his body as best he could in the hopes that he would not be left naked. “Good boy”, said Will slapping his face gently.

Tom was pulled from his sleeping bag frantically trying to stop his rather loose boxers being dragged off him as he was hauled over the ground. By now Tom was not the only one who was covered in a sweat-adhered layer of leaf-mould, small twigs and dust.

None of the Broadhurst lads could really be sure how many of the Limewood warband were present; all that they knew was that there were enough!

Considering what they had done to JT, who was innocent, Tom dreaded what was about to happen to him.

“We’ll start with this one.” James’s voice this time. “Let’s leave Muscle Man till last.”

Aiden tried to intervene; he would willingly have sacrificed himself for punishment in place of any of the others. “We’d rather you didn’t make that noise,” said Will, “unless you want to see your little Yankee mate trying to stand with his right ankle tied to his left knee.” Aiden knew that it wasn’t an idle threat and fell into silence.

JT just wished that he hadn’t.

Following James’s suggestion, Tom was prepared for punishment. His hands were tied in front of him in parallel, palm to palm and his elbows drawn close up against one another. Tom was hauled to his feet and taken to where a rope had already been thrown over a branch. The rope was forced between his wrists and tightened so that Tom’s hands were raised just above his head,

I suggest that, if you try this, it is actually very painful if it’s pulled any tighter!

Tom could still stand with his feet firmly on the ground. He was suspicious.

That was Tom.

----------0000000000----------0000000000----------

Tom’s torture started. His exposed under-arms (no surprise) and inner thighs (that worried him) were attacked first. As his muscles contracted and he lifted his feet up and down, he was surprised, and not a little discomforted to find sharp objects stabbing into his feet as they returned to the ground.

Following last week’s kidnappings, the Limewood war party ceded the main part of torturing the captives to Will and James. The other boys just couldn’t resist adding their own refinements. There were many dog-roses and not a few gorse bushes in the dry, raised “island” in the bog. Scattered branches placed under the victim’s feet while he suffered seemed to them to add a certain “refinement” to his suffering.

Tom’s obvious solution was to kick the thorny braches away with his feet, even though that produced more pain in his toes and shoulders. His tormentors had thought of that! When Tom tried that solution, there was a period of even more intense tickling. This time Will and James included the, as yet, unexplored areas of Tom’s helpless body. Other than the soles of his feet, which were being otherwise occupied, they must have noticed every spot that produced the most gratifying (to them) reactions.

Following that session the other Limewood Lads lifted Tom’s feet from the ground. This was not a pleasant experience so the largest of them supported him under his armpits thus alleviating some of the pain. They then pegged out a large bundle of thorny twigs and branches, secured in a net beneath where Tom would be forced to stand.

Upon his being dropped again Tom tried in vain to find somewhere to stand without the soles of his feet being attacked by thorns.

After a few minutes Will gave Tom an ultimatum: either he could be hobbled, jumping around the thorny branches which, even if he ever got comfortable, could be “plumped up” again, or he could have his ankles fastened to the ends of a stick spreading his feet apart from the thorns. That would put more strain on his arms.

“Oh, by the way, as long as it takes you to decide, your little American mate is going to be birched! “ Tom heard a swishing sound followed by a slapping noise and an unmistakeable squeal from JT who had just felt the bite of a bundle of birch twigs digging into the tops of his thighs.

After hearing three strokes of the birch and the accompanying squeals, Tom chose the spreader stick by spreading his feet wide. The whipping stopped. (Whether that was what JT wanted, you’ll have to check with him.) Birching might seem to be a bit extreme for tie-up games like this but the Limewood lads made the beatings only strong enough to sting a bit and make the recipient yell. The only reason for “whipping” JT at all was to encourage his companions to try to protect their innocent friend by co-operating.

The thinnings of young douglas firs left in the inclosures by the foresters make ideal spreader bars (that was discovered by Ben & Paul. q.v.). A few small cut trunks had been collected on the way and all the side branches cut to stubs. Tom’s ankles were fastened about a metre apart with the branch stubs preventing his closing his legs. The discomfort in his arms and shoulders was making Tom question his decision, but at least his feet were free from the thorns.

----------0000000000----------0000000000----------

Jonny was next. Having been blindfolded with a damp t-shirt, he had no idea what fate had befallen his companions but he made a good guess that something not too peasant was about to come his way.

James grabbed the tape underneath Jonny’s ankles and dragged him away from the yew tree turning him face down. The spiky beech mast scattered all around the site made a very uncomfortable passage for Jonny as he was dragged, protesting loudly but indistinctly, towards an oak tree on the other side of the clearing. If his bladder control was not at its limit before, it most certainly was now!

Will decided that it was no use leaving his prisoner’s arms back-hammered as they were because he would want easier easy access to his unprotected armpits. So he untied the ropes that had kept Jonny’s arms uncomfortably high between his shoulder blades for quite some time. Grabbing his right wrist, Will turned Jonny roughly over onto his back and sat heavily on his stomach. Jonny nearly let go at that stage. James grabbed his left wrist and his two wrists were brought together in front of him. One of the other Limewood lads then wrapped several layers of gaffer tape round each of Jonny’s wrists.

James got a soft rope, wound it several times round the tape encasing Jonny’s right wrist, tied it off firmly and equalised the tension in the coils. Leaving about 30 cms of rope between his wrists, James repeated the process on Jonny’s left wrist tying off firmly once more. The doubled rope was returned to the victim’s right wrist and simply fastened off. This left Jonny in a not too uncomfortable set of rope handcuffs.

Will got off his stomach and Jonny’s hands immediately flew to his crutch and his legs and shoulders curled upwards. Even tough he could not look his captors in the eye, he was pleading desperately.

“About to wet yourself?” asked Will, not too sympathetically, “About to lose your dignity?” Jonny was nodding frantically and squealing desperately into his gag. “What about my dignity last weekend? Didn’t think about that, did you?”

“Eeeeee!” came the desperate plea.

“OK, but you’d better be prepared to show how VERY grateful you are afterwards. Agreed?” By now Jonny would have agreed to eating his own foot if only he didn’t have to wet himself in front of his tormentors and he nodded his head even more frantically than before.

James pulled him to his feet where Jonny tottered rather unstably both because he hadn’t stood up for quite some time and because of the gaffer tape tightly fastening his ankles and knees. “OK, you’ve got your back to us, help yourself. Jonny quickly produced what he needed from inside his boxers and let loose on an impressive scale. The resultant “Nnnnngh!” was truly heartfelt.

Jonny adjusted his dress. He knew better than to try to remove his blindfold or gag even though he had the opportunity to do so. Even if he had, he was still firmly bound and unable to escape. He now had very little dignity left: his front was coved in detritus from the floor of the clearing, he’d just relieved himself in minimal privacy and was about to have to show how “grateful” he was to his captors.

James took some gaffer tape and forced the fingers of Jonny’s right hand into a fist. He wrapped the tape tightly round them preventing him from straightening his fingers. The same happened to his other hand. The, by now, far from clean t-shirt was pulled from Jonny’s face leaving him blinking in the early morning light. He looked around, noticed the pained expression on Tom’s face as he stood, feet wide apart, hands above his head, saw Aiden sitting bound against the yew tree and JT as he hung from his arms trying to get a firmer footing.

Jonny decided that he’d be a “good boy” and try to make things as easy as possible.

Will said that Jonny needed to apologise to JT for getting him into this situation first and then show James and himself how “VERY grateful” he was to them for not making him wet himself. James took hold of the ropes between Jonny’s wrists and made him bunny-hop over to where JT was hanging. As he came nearer, JT could just make out how Jonny had been tied and the state of his appearance. If only he could have reassured Jonny that not only didn’t he blame him but, actually was grateful for becoming involved!

“Kneel down.” Jonny did in an uncomfortable and uncontrolled fall. Only the fact that James still had hold of his rope cuffs prevented Jonny from falling over completely. “You got this new kid into this situation; don’t you think you owe him an apology?” Actually, Jonny did think he owed JT an apology and didn’t resent this too much.

James removed Jonny’s gag and told him to make sure that his apology was very humble and sincere. Jonny had no problem with this.

JT frantically tried to reassure Jonny that there were no hard feelings. The trouble was that he had a very substantial knot in his mouth impeding his tongue, which he could not reverse however hard he tried. Neither could he expel the rope from his mouth. The gag was not designed to silence the wearer, merely to render him incomprehensible.

“Right now, kiss his feet; both of them.” Jonny did so. “He can’t be too comfortable like that, perhaps a footstool would help.”

Jonny’s gag was re-positioned and his elbows were tied closely together. There was no need to re-tie his wrists. He was forced forwards onto his forearms and Will drew his elbows and his knees together, none too gently, with four coils of rope. This left Jonny crouching with his feet sticking out behind his bum, his wrists under his chin and his back uncomfortably arched. JT was lifted by a couple of the Limewood lads, giving considerable ease to his aching shoulders and chest and Jonny the footstool was then manoeuvred into position underneath him. JT could now stand on Jonny’s back suffering very little discomfort compared to his previous predicament. If he was honest about it, he was grateful for the relief.

Jonny thought that that would be his total punishment, but he was wrong on two fronts.


[TBC]
They all say boxer shorts are cool,
but little Speedos always rule.
User avatar
blackbound
Millennial Club
Millennial Club
Posts: 1058
Joined: 5 years ago

Post by blackbound »

Oh wow. I can't quite picture how JT was hanging from that tree, but this story is hot hot HOT.
User avatar
Xtc
Site Admin
Site Admin
Posts: 3428
Joined: 6 years ago
Location: Not deep enough into the Forest

Post by Xtc »

Thank you. Yes, I suppose it is a bit complicated but, trust me: JT isn't very comfortable!
They all say boxer shorts are cool,
but little Speedos always rule.
User avatar
Xtc
Site Admin
Site Admin
Posts: 3428
Joined: 6 years ago
Location: Not deep enough into the Forest

Post by Xtc »

JT IN EXILE (3)


James & Will left Jonny to his footstool duties and turned their attention to Aiden. He had been the first to get up for a pee and was now just about breaking his neck.

It was obvious from the way Aiden was scrunching himself up and trying to make himself understood that he was desperate. “Hi, Aiden, no time to waste?” asked Will in a mock friendly fashion. If he could have seen the pleading in Aiden’s blindfolded eyes, even Will’s heart would have melted.

“Nnnnnng”, pleaded Aiden holding his thighs as close to his body as possible.

James took pity on him. Informing him of the inadvisability of “trying anything funny”, he untied Aiden’s arms and quickly re-tied his wrists in front of him, slipped a rope lead over his head and “assisted” him to his feet. Once Aiden had stabilised he was helped to bunny hop round to face the yew tree. “OK, you’re facing the tree, get on with it”. Aiden did!

Having tucked himself away Aiden awaited his fate. Having been the first prisoner taken and the first one blindfolded, he had no idea of the fate of his companions although he did manage to make several good guesses based on the sounds he’d heard.

James checked that the sturdy boy’s wrists were properly tied because he thought he might have been in too much of a hurry earlier. A few more carefully knotted turns of rope sorted that out.

James addressed Aiden, “Last week you left me on my front step with my arse hanging out and called my mum to come and look. This week you’ve got your new American friend into a kidnap situation that he doesn’t deserve. I think you owe a few very humble apologies.” Like Jonny, Aiden agreed that JT deserved an apology but he wasn’t so sure about his old enemy.

Aiden was bunny-hopped, on the end of the lead, still blindfolded and gagged, over to where Jonny was trying to keep as still as possible so that JT would not fall off his back and come to an uncomfortable, sudden halt as he fell. James forced him to kneel and ripped the Elastoplast from his eyes. It came away with a considerable amount of eyebrow. That was sore. Aiden could now see both Jonny and JT, who was trying to keep his footing on Jonny’s slim and rather bony back. James explained that he wanted to hear Aiden’s humble apology to JT, ripped the tape from around Aiden’s gag and pulled the soggy socks out of his mouth leaving them hanging round his neck.

As with Jonny, Aiden had no problem making a very generous apology to JT and kissed his feet upon command. His next move was probably a mistake: he decided to try begging. Not for himself but on JT’s behalf. JT started trying to protest. James gave him a firm slap in the belly and told him to shut up.

Aiden touched his nose on the ground between James’s feet. “Please, release JT. None of your kidnapping was his fault. It’s Karl who should be hanging there. On my honour, I swear: after our expedition, I’ll surrender myself to you and even help deliver Karl to you if you’ll only let JT go.”

“I‘ll get back to you on that one but we can’t let him go until we’ve finished with you three and it’s useful our having someone whom you want to protect.” Turning to JT James administered another belly slap in response to his renewed protestations.

“Jonny, it’s time for your payback. And don’t forget that display of gratitude we expect.” With those words Will kicked Jonny out from underneath JT who dropped and landed uncomfortably when his feet came in contact with the ground. His arms were forced high once more but probably not as high as previously due to the stretching of the ropes suspending him from the tree. Nevertheless, his discomfort was still considerable.

“Isn’t it strange, you can’t tell the difference between a gagged Brit and a gagged Yank when they’re yelling?” remarked Will.

“Oh, be fair, You Guys!” Perhaps Aiden should have thought twice before interceding. James immediately replaced his sock gag, undid it and re-tied it tightening it considerably.

“It’s OK, Aiden, you’re taking his place” On Will’s call a couple of the other Limewood lads tied Aiden’s knees and elbows together and gaffer taped his fingers round his thumbs rendering his hands useless. Aiden was placed on his arms and knees and manoeuvred under JT who was lifted onto his uncomfortably arched back. Aiden was determined not to drop his new mate.

----------0000000000----------0000000000----------

One feature of the site was an oak tree with a long, horizontal branch with no side-shoots which was well less than 2 metres above the ground. It had often been used for threading victims along it prior to torture. Today was to be no exception.

Jonny had been scrunched up for quite some time. It wasn’t pleasant but now the opposite was about to happen. His elbows were released from his knees and from each other. He could see the oak branch and, with his wrists in rope cuffs, he could guess what was about to happen to him.

One of these days that particular branch would break from the trunk but there were many years’ life in it yet. Jonny was made to face away from the oak tree, his arms were threaded each side of the branch and he was dragged back towards the trunk but by no more than a metre. By now he knew for certain what was about to happen and started to protest in spades!

“Please don’t do that, Jonny, you now how much it hurts the Yank.” The sight and sound of JT being birched again reduced Jonny to silence.”

The tape was removed from Jonny’s legs and ankles but he knew that it was not good news. Immediately James wrapped several layers of gaffer tape round each of his ankles and Will tied his ankles in similar cuffs to those connecting his wrists and from which he knew he would shortly be hanging.

“OK, Heave – ho” came Will’s triumphant voice as the Jonny’s feet were threaded each side of the oak bough.

The next manoeuvre was like something out of a sailing ship. The Limewood warband now had to work in concert. A shanty might have been more appropriate but they settled for Will calling, “one, two, three, lift!”

At each count of “lift”, one boy lifted Jonny’s shoulders, another forced his bum upwards and everyone else helped to move the poor kid towards the trunk of the tree. Three metres may not seem a great distance to travel but Jonny found that not one of those three metres was a pleasure.

After the manoeuvre Jonny was left hanging, face up, like some sort of ‘White Hunter’s’ trophy. The words he was trying to say varied between “please” & “bastards” with an emphasis on more anatomical references when he realised that no one was taking any notice.

As he hung there, Jonny’s protests and convulsions were quite spectacular but, as the futility of his resistance became apparent, he had to try to relax. He was also trying desperately not to cry.

“Your sentence demands that you be birched just like that innocent hostage. So we’ll start with that.” announced James indicating JT and approaching with the bunch of twigs. He made sue that Jonny could see him approaching. The frantic wriggling started again but to no avail, Jonny was thrashed about ten times on his boxer-clad backside and his bare thighs, not severely but rather harder that JT had been.

“When I was a cub, we used to use a coffee mug. Later on we found out that the frying pan from a Trangia, makes a really good paddle. It stings!” recalled Will out loud. “Perhaps we’d better let him get used to his predicament before we start.”

Jonny hardly had time to gather his breath following his birching before he heard James’s voice, “Nah! Let’s do it now.”

It didn’t take very hard strokes with the improvised paddle to make Jonny writhe and yelp in a most satisfactory manner. After James had administered 30 strokes, “One for each minute you gave me to escape”, he left Jonny “just hanging around” for a while.

The members of the Limewood warband were well aware of the potential for serious pain being suffered by someone hanging like that in spite of the tape wrapped round the victim’s wrists and ankles before they were bound. One of them was detailed to keep an eye on Jonny. All the while he was suffering, that was alright but, as soon as he was obviously in real pain, he would have been cut down.

The snag was that, all the while his guard thought he was doing O.K., he would subject Jonny to a random tickling lasting about five minutes. Will and James both wished that they had a camera, or even a phone, that they could have used to capture Jonny’s writhing.


----------0000000000----------0000000000----------

The Limewood lads then discussed what should happen to Aiden. They agreed that JT should still be allowed his footstool and that Tom would have to take his turn while they turned their attention to Aiden.

By now Tom had been more or less hanging by his wrists with his feet spread wide for quite some time and the discomfort in his arms, shoulders, legs and chest was turning into genuine pain. When Will released his wrists from the rope round the branch, Tom immediately collapsed onto the net full of thorny clippings. James & Will quickly lifted him away but did so amid much laughter from the rest of the ambushers.

James freed Tom’s elbows, much to his relief as witnessed by a prolonged, “Nnngh”, and lifted him by grabbing the rope tying his wrists while Will lifted the spacer-bar near his ankles. They carried Tom over to where JT was standing on Aiden’s back and laid him down. Will lifted him onto his backside and James quickly applied many turns of tape between his wrists and the spacer bar just to hold him while they dealt with Aiden. That left Tom sitting, uncomfortably hunched, with his legs spread grotesquely and his knees up.

The tape was then ripped unceremoniously from Tom’s eyes and the need for him to apologise to JT was explained to him. “Just the apology, mind you. No other noises if you know what’s good for you – and him.” explained Will as he took Tom by the hair and pulled his head back to look JT in the eye. JT needed a further slap to his belly to stop him trying to reassure Tom that it was alright.

More tape was ripped from Tom’s face, not silently! The ball was then removed from his mouth. After a certain amount of jaw wiggling, Tom gave JT a fulsome apology but a rather more reluctant, and quite uncomfortable, kissing of the feet. Before Tom had a chance to say anything else, his gag was replaced and tied tightly behind his neck but no one bothered to replace the gaffer tape.

Looking at Tom, Will decided that there was no point in re-tying him when they could just tip him over onto his knees leaving his shoulders on the ground. Like that he would certainly provide a good, high foot-stool for the long-suffering American. It would also leave his arse in the air and vulnerable to the inevitable birching.

Someone supported JT while Aiden was pushed out from underneath him and then lowered him gently until he could (just about) stand.

JT was lifted again as Tom was pushed and pulled, none too gently, into place. Tom, having had his ankles and wrists basically fastened as if he was in the stocks, provided probably the highest footstool yet for JT.

James produced the usual sermon about “the Innocent Yank” having had to suffer the birch because of him and then laid it on while Tom flinched and squealed and JT frantically had to try to retain his footing.

Tom was then left to fend for himself.


TBC
They all say boxer shorts are cool,
but little Speedos always rule.
User avatar
Xtc
Site Admin
Site Admin
Posts: 3428
Joined: 6 years ago
Location: Not deep enough into the Forest

Post by Xtc »

JT IN EXILE (4)


Even while no-one was paying much attention to him, Aiden couldn’t do much to release himself, what with his elbows and knees joined and his hands rendered useless by gaffer tape.

When Will & James had finished with Tom, it was Aiden’s turn. James reckoned that it was unfair that Aiden still had his grey trackies on when he had been left in only a jockstrap on his own front doorstep. Will noticed that Tom had recently vacated a perfectly good torture station.

Aiden was a strong guy and Will & James didn’t want to take any chances with him. Before separating his knees from his elbows, James took a large piece of surgical tape from Tom’s first aid kit which he carefully plastered over Aiden’s eyes, pressing it carefully into the contours of his face.

Although Aiden would willingly have offered himself as whipping boy for any of his companions, he had, by now, resigned himself to his fate and made no attempt to speak, struggle or even to roll into a begging position. He knew it would be fruitless.

James then took hold of the noose with its loose slip-knot that was still round Aiden’s neck and yanked it a bit to remind him of his predicament. Will untied the rope joining Aiden’s knees to his elbows.

Aiden was determined to do his best to tough it out but he couldn’t. The gagged sounds of relief as he stretched his arms, straightened his legs and rolled around were unmistakeable.

James took Aiden’s bound wrists in one hand and the lead in the other and dragged him to the branch from which Tom had recently been suspended. At least the net of thorny cuttings had been removed. The rope was still looped over the branch and James rethreaded a blood bite in the rope which he had fed between Aiden’s wrists. As long as he left a good sized bite in the rope, the knot would not only be non-slip but also out of range of Aiden’s hands. That was probably overkill with the victim’s hands mitted with tape but James enjoyed exhibiting his skill with knots.

He then pulled the rope tight and fastened off the other end alarmingly round Aiden’s neck after applying a few turns. Although it wasn’t very tight, it denied Aiden any scope for arm movement unless he wanted to throttle himself.

“OK, it’s nudie time.” Announced James as he cut the tape from Aiden’s legs and Will untied his toes which, by now had become far from comfortable.

“I think we can assume that, “Uuh – eee” probably meant, “No, please.” But it could just as easily have been an expletive. Whatever it was made no difference as James yanked Aiden’s tracksuit trousers down to his ankles. “Nice knickers.” exclaimed Will as Aiden was left standing in a pair of bright yellow leopard-skin print boxer shorts which could have done with some adjustment to preserve Aiden’s modesty.

There was some discussion as to whether Aiden would be allowed to keep his underpants. Aiden was determined not to beg. Following a worrying tug from Will, which just effected the necessary adjustment to the garment, it was decided not to strip him naked. If Aiden had not been tied in such a restrictive way, there would have been a massive, relieved sag of the shoulders.

Reminding him that it was not too late to change their minds, Will told Aiden to lift his legs in turn so that he could slip off his trackie bottoms.

As a holding position, the lead round Aiden’s neck was joined to his left ankle which James had forced up to backside level leaving Aiden wobbling very unstably on one leg. That enabled James to release the other rope round Aiden’s neck. Aiden was then lowered onto his knees and his right ankle was tied across his raised left one with the end of the rope. That left the muscular youth balanced just on his knees until James released the lead from his left ankle. Aiden released another sigh through his nose and there was another token sag of the shoulders as he was left kneeling on the ground.

He only hoped that neither James nor Will knew how ticklish he was. He’d rather have been beaten. But no such luck – yet!

Working efficiently as a pair Will and James started with Aiden’s ears, chin & neck, then proceeded to his armpits whereupon his wriggling resulted in his feet being jerked from the ground as he rocked forwards and then backwards to a surprising extent. James re-adjusted his victim’s position, made remarks about girly squealing while Aiden fought for breath and, in spite of his determination not to do so, tried begging desperately for mercy into his gag.

If Aiden was knocking, there was nobody at home.

“Now, where did we get to?”

“Dunno. Have we done the armpits yet?”

“You know, I don’t think we have. Let’s start there.”

This time I believe that the words mangled by Aiden’s gag were definitely anatomical and scatological. They certainly weren’t the equivalent of, “I say, you fellows, lovely morning isn’t it?”

Even this early in the morning, Aiden had worked up a sweat and, as James & Will re-worked his armpits and went down to his ribs, waist and belly, the squeals were by no means moderated until exhaustion and shortness of breath caused them to change into grunting.

“And once more up to the armpits for luck!” Aiden was glad he had emptied his bladder before they started torturing him.

“OK, you chose.” said Will as he drew his fingers up the insides of Aiden’s thighs, “Birching next, foot tickling, or a good, old fashioned paddling?”

“Mmmnn.” said Aiden who simply wanted to die.

“Right, then, tickling it is!”

“Nnnnngh!!”

Will and James sat on the ground and each placed one of Aiden’s shins under his arm, held tightly onto his instep and, on James’s slow count of , “Five, four, three, two, one, go!” launched a co-ordinated assault on the soles of Aiden’s feet. It was an interesting technique; each boy held the shin nearest to him and, because Aiden’s feet had been bound in a crossed position, tickled the foot of the leg held by his oppo. In spite of his strength, all his jerking could not get his torturers to release his ankles or desist from an increasingly brutal tickling of his feet.

Poor Aiden, he was one of the most ticklish boys the Limewood warband had ever had the pleasure of torturing.

I think that, “Errrh llll aaah, EEEE!” meant, “Kill me now, PLEASE!” but I can’t be sure.

After about ten minutes James & Will decided that they were exhausted from their labours (THEY were exhausted?) and left the sweating, aching and breathless Broadhurst boy hanging and recovering before his next ordeal.

Just when Aiden thought it might be all over, he heard James, “These are for JT.” He was almost relieved to feel the sting of the birch against his backside and thighs rather than have to suffer any more tickling.


TBC
They all say boxer shorts are cool,
but little Speedos always rule.
User avatar
Xtc
Site Admin
Site Admin
Posts: 3428
Joined: 6 years ago
Location: Not deep enough into the Forest

Post by Xtc »

JT IN EXILE (5)


By now, time was getting on and not even the Limewood warband would deny the Broadhurst boys the chance to complete their Award hike. They simply wanted them to suffer further humiliation to match what had happened to Will and James. Will thought that having their supervisor find them as they were would be the most suitable outcome. James agreed.

When they were told about this, the Broadhurst boys all started shouting simultaneously realising that Ethel, their supervisor, wasn’t due to meet them on site at all and not until about 10:00 hrs at their first check-point. They could have been left tied up for about another three hours before she came looking for them and Jonny, especially, could not have taken that hanging as he was.

Fortunately for the prisoners, James remembered that Jonny owed him a show of gratitude and went over to the oak tree to collect.

“OK, Boy, you haven’t yet told me how VERY grateful you are to me for not being made to wet yourself earlier. Now’s your chance. And make sure that I’m convinced by it.”

In spite of his state of panic, Jonny had to think fast. As soon as James, somewhat roughly, slipped his gag down round his neck, he delivered a grovelling and effusive vote of thanks to his captor using lots of “very’s” and “honestly’s” and terms like “Sir” to ingratiate himself in the hopes of getting away with his forthcoming plea.

“I hope you will accept my sincere thanks, Sir.” Was the final gambit.

“Alright, that’ll do nicely.” And James made to replace Jonny’s gag.

Before he could do so Jonny continued with, “Please, Sir, permission to explain something vital.”

Jonny’s tactic worked. James was so smug at having received such a grovelling statement of gratitude that he graciously granted his permission to proceed. He could be insufferable in victory!

Jonny explained the situation and begged not to be left as he was. Now that really hurt: not the hanging but having to abase himself to his enemy like that!

Will asked how he could tell that Jonny was telling the truth. “Check with Aiden, you know how seriously he takes his “Scout’s Honour”. While Will went over to Aiden, James undid the soggy gag hanging round Jonny’s neck and re-tied it in position.

Will untied the sock holding the wadding in Aiden’s mouth and asked whether Jonny was telling the truth. The kneeling boy answered, “On my honour, what Jonny said was true.” and then he allowed himself to be gagged again.

This new situation made James forget the show of gratitude that Aiden was supposed to make while the Limewood warband reassessed the situation. They agreed that leaving the Broadhurst boys, especially Jonny, like that for hours was over the top even for an act of revenge. The question was what to do about arranging their release.

After a council of war, Will announced their decision.

“Right, listen carefully. Aiden’s on his honour to surrender to us and help avenge ourselves on Karl as long as we release JT so that’s what we’re gong to do. Before we go, we’ll ease Jonny’s plight a bit then we’re taking the Yank with us to the end of the approach path. We’ll release him and send him back with a knife. After that, it’s up to you. I reckon that you should be free in about an hour and ready to complete your expedition. Don’t forget to tidy up after you!”

Aiden could be forgiven for thinking he had been short-changed on his promise. He didn’t expect JT to be released so late in the situation.

One of the Limewood lads went over to Jonny and started to release the rope cuffs round his ankles. Once Jonny was standing, his ankles were quickly bound tightly together using the same rope which was then passed round the trunk of the oak and tied once more round his ankles. That left Jonny standing against the tree with his mitted hands just above his head. Will replaced the, by now, dirty t-shirt which had been used to blindfold him originally but this time he held it tightly in place by the belt of Jonny’s trousers that he found in his tent.

Before dismounting JT from the crouching Tom, Will used the Elastoplast strip from Jonny’s first aid kit to blindfold Tom.

----------0000000000----------0000000000----------

“OK, Captain America, it’s up to you now. Need a wee before you start?” asked James as he undid the rope holding JT’s arms high behind him. JT made it very clear that he did in spite of the knotted rope that had been forcing his jaws wide for the best part of three hours. He stumbled unsteadily from Tim’s lower back and, in spite of being supported by James, fell to his knees. James assumed that it was just the result of having been tied up for so long and quite gently helped him up again.

Once upright JT knelt down again and touched his nose to the ground near James’s feet (he was beginning to learn the rules). James took the hint. He lifted JT by the chin until his torso was upright. He then undid the gag from his aching, drooling mouth.

“Please, Sir, I greatly need the bathroom but I also need my lenses if I’m gonna find my way back here.” The unnecessarily euphemistic use of the term “bathroom” was a cause of considerable amusement among the Brits.

The Limewood warband really had nothing against JT and, if he wanted to make his escape, they probably wouldn’t have given two hoots and just let Ethel find the rest of them later – especially following a “number withheld” land-line call. But they seemed to think that JT was an honourable man and they weren’t all that surprised by his reactions.

Will removed the stave that had been forcing JT’s arms upwards and then cut the gaffer tape connecting his forearms. With the body contact, JT was glad of the looseness of his white boxers, but they didn’t really conceal much. But it wasn’t the sort of thing that was remarked upon in those situations.

With a resounding “Ssssss” of inhalation followed by an exhaled “Chooooooaaaaah” as his wrists were released from his elbows, JT dropped his arms.
“Permission to speak, Sir?”

Will nodded. “May I go take a piss now?”

“That’s better.” thought Will as he nodded reassuringly. JT was now completely unfettered and it would be interesting to see what he would do - other than micturating! He headed towards the edge of the clearing, preparing himself for when he got there and “made water”, as they would have said in an earlier time, most freely.

Having adjusted his dress (I wonder what the American euphemism for that is?) he returned to Will and James, turned his back, crossed his wrists and said that he was ready. Their respect for the new kid was increasing by the minute.

“No, go put your lenses in first. Then come back here.” instructed James. At this stage I reckon that the Broadhurst boys were thinking, “Go, on, run for it.” If he had, they wouldn’t have blamed him but they were now also thinking what a great, loyal member of their warband he might make if only he was interested in that sort of thing.

JT found his lenses and put them in. He then returned to submit himself to James and Will.

“OK,” said James, “We won’t blindfold you because this is the first time you’ve been here and you’ll need to be able to get your way back. But binding and gagging is a different matter.”

“I’m ready, Sir.”

James told JT to cross his wrists in front of him, palms down. He then applied his best cross lashing, tied it off, passed the rope around JT’s waist and anchored his wrists firmly to his body.

Will wasn’t happy that JT could still move his arms and tied four loops of rope round his upper arms just below his pecs. Although JT didn’t deserve it, James thought that it was a shame to have brought cable ties and not to have used them so he forced one between each of JT’s arms and his torso to tighten Will’s roping. JT managed to keep silent.

Will applied a few turns of gaffer tape around JT’s lower face. Honestly, he was grateful that the rope hadn’t been replaced – three hours or so was long enough.

“Have you got a knife?” asked Will. JT nodded. “Get it”.

JT went to his rucksack and, with difficultly, opened one of the side pockets, emptied the contents and eventually produced a substantial clasp knife. He gave it to Will.

“Christ, that’s sharp!” announced Will upon opening the knife.

At this stage JT could still manage a long-suffering look. I think it meant, ”Only a Limey would expect otherwise!” What a good job he couldn’t say it.

Will stuck the knife firmly into one of the beech trees furthest away from the path out of the site, making sure that JT knew where it was.

The Limewood warband then packed up what they had brought with them, other than what was wrapped around the Broadhurst warband, and got ready to quit the site.

The rope lead that was previously round Aiden’s neck was slipped over JT’s head and off they went.

I think you can imagine the parting comments. Good taste prevents my repeating most of them here. But here go some of the more inane ones:
“Don’t go away now.”
“Pull your pants up.”
“Haven’t you got anything better to do than hang around?”
“See ya before you see me.”
“Can you make a killing on the “stocks” market, Tom?”
And, of course, the final chorus of:
“Broadhurst boys are tragic; Limewood lads are magic. La la la la, La la la la.”

With the repeated triumphal chorus, JT was led away from his companions. He wasn’t sure of how much use he could be to them with his hands so tightly fastened to his body but he had quite some time to think about it.

At the end of the path, and very much to his surprise, JT found the cable ties cut and the ropes constricting his arms untied. The removal of the waist tie released his hands from his body and JT was beginning to wonder if he was going to be completely released. No such luck. He was left with his wrists bound tightly in front of him and with a tape muzzle round his lower face.

“OK, Yankee Boy, you’ve got the choice: go back and rescue the rest of the losers or make your escape. Your decision.”

There was no choice: JT didn’t even bother to try to remove the tape round his face; he just started to run back to the wild site where his new mates had been abandoned.

-----------0000000000----------0000000000----------

Once he had returned to the site, it took no time for JT to remove the knife from the Beech tree. After that Aiden, Jonny and Tom – and, indeed, JT himself - were eventually released. When the expedition team packed up their kit and headed out for CP1, Ethel was not even suspicious of any “funny doings”. The only thing she might have noticed was that they still had their unconsumed breakfast supplies with them.

Some seven hours later the group successfully completed their expedition. An expedition is a journey with a purpose. It’s a good job that it was only their practice expedition but I don’t think that HQ would accept, as an aim for their qualifying exped. “To drag the Limewood warband, naked through every bog in the Forest” But they did give it serious consideration for a few minutes before common sense prevailed and they decided to separate their revenge plans from their Award work.

They swore revenge on the Limewood warband, but that was par for the course. They swore that Karl would suffer for his absence. They swore that JT was one of them.

JT had arrived.

----------0000000000----------0000000000----------

After the expedition JT got a lift home with Tom. The pair had become firm friends.

“How did it go?” asked his father.

“Pretty well, we just hung around the campsite together. But I did bond with the others. I met some other kids; I think I’m going to get quite tied up with them.” said JT as he headed for the shower.

His dad gave him one of his knowing looks.


THE END
They all say boxer shorts are cool,
but little Speedos always rule.
User avatar
Xtc
Site Admin
Site Admin
Posts: 3428
Joined: 6 years ago
Location: Not deep enough into the Forest

Post by Xtc »

OK. That's it. The next story in the "Warbands" series is the infamous "Blackmail" set.
They all say boxer shorts are cool,
but little Speedos always rule.
User avatar
Xtc
Site Admin
Site Admin
Posts: 3428
Joined: 6 years ago
Location: Not deep enough into the Forest

Post by Xtc »

Here's the next story in sequence: https://tugstories.com/viewtopic.php?f=8&t=7125

"Blackmail" is just a little "explanation" of how Karl got away with treating Max so poorly.
They all say boxer shorts are cool,
but little Speedos always rule.
Post Reply Previous topicNext topic