WALKIES
7 After Lunch on Sunday
Both Frank and I listened intently as Smeggy Eddie appraised his workforce. “Now. This job needs a bit of brawn so do I give it to the muscly little oik or do I get the taller kid with the longer limbs to do it?” Finally! Ed seemed to have noticed that I was no longer the shrimp that he has always thought me to be. I was very nearly as tall as he was and, although I didn’t have his bulk, I was quite fit. “So, the Shrimp - - - or the Rodent? - - - It’s quite hard to decide. Perhaps I’ll have to sit and think about it. Back in a sec.”
Ed went to collect his chair (At least he couldn’t expect me to fetch it for him all the while I was cable-tied.) and a few other things he thought he might need. “OK Shrimp, I’m sorry about this but I’ve been thinking and I’ve decided that it’s not really fair to keep the Rodent gagged all the while your mouth is free to flap away.” I was NOT looking forward to having either the lemon or the stick lodged in my mouth, especially as I had only just been allowed to spit out the lemon. I kept quiet.
“Tell you what, I’ve just thought of another way of using my old running tights. Always like re-cycling.” I started balancing in my mind the possible consequences of a) begging and b) getting one good mouthful of abuse in before succumbing to the inevitable. Option c was obviously the best course of action: just shut up and look daggers at Ed.
Ed took one leg of the former tights and rolled it carefully starting at the toe. He then took a new roll of tape and used a short length of it to compact the roll. He held it up critically to my mouth. I was beginning to get the idea. “Oh yes, this boy is gooood.” Ed was easily pleased with his efforts as he stuffed the package inside the remaining leg of the tights. That grin appeared again. “Open up, Shrimp, and keep your hands down.”
I found my mouth filled by the rolled up fabric and Ed even had to rise from his throne to tie it tightly behind my neck. “Now, with extra tape or without?” It was obvious that he was contemplating taping over the thing that was stretching my lips unpleasantly. “Nah, that should do.” I was slightly relieved. Now, what about the blindfold?” All of a sudden I panicked again.
Before I could react any further, Ed pulled the sleep mask from Frank’s face. “Right, now you can both see the job I’ve got for you. You are both going to have to bid for the contract.” By now I was wishing that Ed could have blindfolded my ears! His bullshit was giving my arse a headache!
“OK, worms, on your feet.” Frank immediately did as we had been told. He was obviously used to having to get up from the ground while he was tied up. Once I had finished staring at my brother in disbelief, it took me quite a bit longer. At least I could use my arms for balance
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The journey towards the cart was both difficult and humiliating. Once again I gave some serious consideration to pulling the destroyed tights out of my mouth and getting my money’s worth before getting gagged again. The inevitability not only of being gagged more painfully but also of having my arms put out of harm’s way made me decide against it but it was a close run decision. Two kids ended up bunny hopping and grunting across the clearing. One of them was better at it than the other in spite of the fact that he was bare-footed.
We were instructed to look into the cart and asked if we could see what Ed described as marquee stakes. As I looked into the cart, I wondered if there was anything he would require for my humiliation that could not have been provided from the estate’s supplies. Ed dumped his chair down again and parked his arse on it while he explained what he wanted one of us to do. What it amounted to was that, just in case his slaves did not deserve to sleep in the tent overnight, he would need somewhere that he could stake either one of both of them out. He opined that four long metal stakes driven deeply into the ground should safely accommodate anyone who was bound securely to them.
“OK, one of you will need to have his hands freed, the other won’t be so lucky. I want to see you beg.”
Frank immediately fell to his knees and even touched his nose to the ground. That poor kid had obviously been really well trained. He had been tied up for hours and was desperate to be untied. Look, don’t judge me, I know his need was greater than mine but I really wanted those cable ties removed, especially the ones around my wrists. Yes! I went down on my knees as well and raised my hands. I didn’t intend it to look like begging but I did try to flex my biceps as impressively as possible. Smugward seemed to have misinterpreted the pose.
“Good begging, Shrimp, but I reckon the Rodent beat you to it. Don’t worry, though, there’s a job for you as well. Just wait for a minute while I deal with ‘’elf ‘n’ safety’.” Ed’s concept of health and safety and mine do not match!
He simply wanted to make sure that not only could I not move too much but that my hands were rendered useless and kept safely away from my mouth. I soon found the strap that had previously secured Frank’s ankles bound tightly around my torso and upper arms. That pinched. Ed then took the new roll of tape and wrapped it round my fingers binding my hands together in a single, immovable lump that extended to my wrists. He could have removed the cable ties before finishing but I expect you can guess whether he did or not. Even my attempted remonstration was totally incomprehensible. There was obviously no shortage of tape in the supplies and I was soon ‘persuaded’ to raise my knees so that Ed could tape my wrists to my legs just above them. There was no way I was going to be able to stand after he had deployed all that tape. All the while I was bound like that, I couldn’t think what he meant by, “There’s a job for you as well”. I soon found out.
Ed turned his attentions towards the still kneeling Frank. He seemed intent on making the grubby little guy very clear concerning his future prospects – under all conceivable circumstances. Frank was happy that his rope cuffs would need to be removed but other conditions, except for the consequences of his non-cooperation, remained as yet unclear.
Ed unclipped the lead connecting Frank’s wrists to his collar. The alarmed sound that escaped the tape round his lower face as Ed pulled the chain under his bum would, in other circumstances, have been comical; my brother certainly seemed to find it so. The dog’s lead was removed completely from the rope cuffs and Ed reconnected it to the collar round Frank’s neck and hitched the leather loop into the clip shortening the chain and leaving it hanging down in front of him. He certainly knew better than to interfere with it.
Ed collected the chain with its padlocks attached and seemed to be measuring it against some esoteric criteria. “On your back, feet up.” Frank looked puzzled but did not move. Ed grabbed his bound feet. Frank fell onto his face. “OK, suit yourself.” Ed was obviously going to hobble Frank’s raised feet. He did so but not too close together before removing the tree ties and cutting Frank’s big toes free. Frank grunted with relief as Ed dropped his feet.
“Sorry, Shrimp, I know you’re safe and can’t afford to escape,” although, to be honest, I was even reappraising that situation by then, “But I had to make sure that my labourer had a ball and chain to stop him running away. Guess who gets that job?”
There was still plenty of unused chain and the free end was quickly secured round my left ankle above the cable tie. That left about four feet of chain between frank’s right ankle and my left one. Frank was given orders to remove the stakes and the sledge hammer from the cart and to be ready to position them where he was told. The first task was fairly easy all the while we were so near to the cart but I thought I could see a snag with the upcoming “where he was told” part.
Ed’s ubiquitous crocodile grin was not in its accustomed place; instead his ugly kisser displayed a wide, crooked smile. His eyes seemed to sparkle. I could sense another video in the offing.
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“OK, slaves? Ready?” Ed received no answer.
Frank lifted four of the stakes out of the cart. They were obviously heavy “t-sectioned” iron and each about two and a half feet long with a metal ring passing through a hole near the blunt end. Ed indicated that Frank should drop them where he lobbed a fir cone. Frank headed off but the main difficulty soon became obvious. Ed could have allowed him to work closer to where we were but that wouldn’t have been anywhere near as entertaining, would it? “Just move them as far as you can . . .” Frank did and I tried shuffling after him on my bum. That was never going to work. “. . . Then drop them and lift the Shrimp up under his arms. You’ll soon do it in relays.”
Many muffled protests went totally ignored and, sure enough, once I had been lifted and carried three times, Frank had managed to relay the stakes near to where the fir cone had landed. One more carry and my bum was parked on top of the thing! Ed seemed to be satisfied and was helping himself to another Coke. “OK, you done good there, Rodent, now you need to get the sledge hammer.”
We looked at Ed, he shrugged, tipped his head to one side and raised his eyebrows.
“Mnnn . . .” Frank looked at me and shook his head gently. I chose to interpret that as, “Sorry.”
I nodded reassuringly, “Nggg.”
“Just drag him. It’ll be easier.”
Frank looked at me again and raised his eyebrows. “Nggh?”
I nodded again, “Mmmm.”
I was fortunate that Frank did such a good job of clearing the ground but it was easier for both of us than it was when he had to keep picking me up and putting me down. I was soon as mucky as the deeply tanned kid who was dragging me across the dusty clearing.
We reached the cart and Frank reached for the sledgehammer. I had an idea that would enable us to avoid relaying both the tool and me back to where Frank would be working. Trouble was: how could I let Frank know? I had no need to worry, he’d had almost the same idea. Ed adopted his customary self-satisfied smirk as Frank dragged me one-handed by one ankle whilst bearing the sledgehammer in the other. I’m sure he tried to apologise to me as soon as he’d let go. At least he didn’t try to drag me by the chain.
“Just hammer one of them in where you are and then I’ll help you to get the others in the correct positions.” That didn’t sound like Ed, he was usually too idle to scratch himself.
I must hand it to Frank: he did move as far away from where he had left me as possible before positioning the first stake. The ground, being quite soft, yielded to Frank’s initial assault upon it so that, after a few strokes holding onto the stake with one hand and the hammer up near the head with the other, Frank was able to release the stake and position himself for much stronger blows. The work showed off the little guy’s physique quite well. He was almost like a miniature, darker version of Dave. No! No!! Please!!! It was a good job that I was sitting in a somewhat scrunched up posture with my arms covering my embarrassment as my person started to swell once more. Sweat soon started to form trails through the dirt on Frank’s back.
“OK, Rodent, that will do.” Ed called a halt once frank had driven all but about six inches of the stake into the ground. “Get another one and I’ll help you to get it where it has to go.” Yup, I was right: there was no way Ed was going to stir from his chair. Frank collected the stake and, under Ed’s direction, positioned it about as far away from the other one as could be managed without moving me.
Frank repeatedly needed to flick his over long fringe from his eyes, not an easy job unless he was going to relinquish the sledgehammer, an idea that he didn’t think would be advisable in his situation. Once the second stake had been driven home, Ed delivered his next order, “OK, just drag the Shrimp about six foot that way. That should do.”
Frank grunted.
I sighed.
Frank collected the remaining two stakes and threaded them by the rings onto the sledgehammer handle. He could handle them now there were only two. Ed looked somewhat disappointed as I was dragged as far as he had indicated. “Right, just dump the Shrimp there and get those other two stakes in. Make sure they’re square with the others.” I don’t think Ed cared whether Frank did the job accurately or not until he had completed it, he could always make him undo his hard work and start again. Fortunately, not even my miserable git of a brother could fault his work when he finally shifted himself to inspect it. I think Frank was feeling quite pleased about that.
“OK, slaves, go and get the other four stakes.”
“Ngeee!”
“Unnngh!”
D’ y’ know that moment when all your hopes get dashed? Well, then!
Long story short again: after Frank’s further exertions, there were two rectangles of stakes located one each side of where the firewood had been positioned. Frank’s hair was clamped against his skull and his back running with sweat and he tried diverting the stream that was trickling down his back before it ran down his crack. I don’t think he was very successful.
“Ok, Rodent, get the sledgehammer put away and I’ll get you settled down again.” By now I really needed to be out of the cable ties so much that I didn’t think I would really mind being taped up any longer instead and I didn’t have any idea how long Ed would take settling Frank down.
I was dragged across to the cart once more and Frank placed the hammer into it with some sense of obvious trepidation as he contemplated the meaning of the term ‘settled down’.
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Ed called us across to where he was lounging and, once Frank had dragged me over to him, he addressed what he considered to be our needs. “Christ, you two are really dirty.” He was right. “Better go and get clean.” That sounded like a good idea. “Come here.” Frank did as he was told.
You know those glass holders that you find in the arms of camping chairs? Well, Ed had found a new use for the one on his chair. He removed a couple of very strong looking cable ties from it. Frank had only two options: he could put his hands behind his back and get them bound or he could attempt to run away with me doing my drag-anchor impression attached to his ankles. Frank didn’t even attempt to resist. I thought it was particularly mean when Ed also tied his already chained ankles together until things became clearer very shortly afterwards. It didn’t even dawn on me at the time that Ed hadn’t bothered to cut the ends off the cable ties.
Ed must have been in a good mood because he didn’t even make Frank lie down and present his raised ankles before reaching down and unlocking the chain. Predictably, Frank toppled. and contrived to land on Ed who pushed him off and safely onto the floor. It was a good job that Ed’s chair was one of the more robust sort. Frank sounded frantic; he seemed to be trying to apologise – or had he finally grown a pair and was he trying to describe Smegward in the terms he so richly warranted?
Ed beckoned for me to come closer but he made no effort to help so I had to do a bum shuffle towards him. He reached down and grabbed the chain that was still padlocked to my ankle causing me to fall onto my back. Even Ed couldn’t figure out how to remain seated comfortably if he wanted to secure his charges as he wished and he knelt while he padlocked the free end of the chain round Frank’s neck, but not too tightly.
Ed’s next move was to unlock the chain from my left ankle only to reinstate it round my neck. I was not best impressed. “OK, Rodent, feet up.” Now that Frank and I had been chained together securely once more, Ed considered it safe to cut him free from the cable ties but it was not immediately apparent to me why we couldn’t simply have stayed linked by our ankles. Frank’s wrists were soon free as well and Ed gave him permission to remove his gag. Frank didn’t need telling twice. It took a good ten minutes of increasingly less muffled yelping before he could expel the slimy running shorts. Frank just sat there looking anxiously at Ed as if awaiting any further orders or permissions.
“Look, I know I explained that the Shrimp’s safe and that he daren’t escape but I can’t risk your corrupting him or plotting your own escape with him. I’m sure you understand.” Frank did not look as if he understood at all and he started pleading. “Sorry, but I need to make sure you can’t remove any gag I put on you. No, I don’t believe you, just open up.” Frank didn’t take any notice and kept pleading. “Fair enough,” Ed produced his tablet, “Now what shall I tell Hils?” It was as if Ed had uttered the magic word. Frank stopped in mid plea, open mouthed and shaking his head.
I really felt for this kid in spite of knowing what others had said about him. Ed didn’t seem to share my sensibility as he removed the leather belt from my arms. Having it removed hurt more than I was expecting and it was only then I noticed that it had surprisingly large holes pierced most of the way along its length. Frank didn’t even try shutting his mouth against having the sweaty leather strap inserted. Ed buckled it tighter than seemed to be friendly behind Frank’s neck trapping his hair before inserting a small padlock through two coincident holes in the strap. That must have hurt! There was no way, even with his hands free that Frank could have dislodged the thing without either the key to the padlock or a knife.
“Now, you two dirty little slugs are going for a bath and to do some laundry. Those swimmers – and you - must stink by now.” He was right but I still resented being told. While he was explaining, our ‘carer’ moved across to the cart and from there to his day-pack. He really HAD been going through my chest of drawers; he threw my football shorts towards me. They were, of course, quite long but I wouldn’t normally wear them without underwear, usually my skins. Needless to say, there were no undies with them.
“Alright, Shrimp, get clean, rinse out those manky jammers and put your footy shorts on. Don’t say I never do anything for you.”
Frank told me later that he wondered briefly whether there wasn’t some clean clothing for him as well but experience had taught him not to expect too much. “Sorry, Rodent, Hils hasn’t packed a change for you but those speedos really are in need of a clean. Here.” Ed threw a large brown towel that Frank caught. “Share this with the Shrimp and wrap it round you afterwards.”
Ed then cut me free from the cable ties (that hurt!) and told Frank to help me to remove all the tape from me before we went down to the lake for a bath while he went for a well earned rest. I know what type of well earned rest I wished for him at the time and it would have been a very long one!
Once my hands had been freed and I could once more my separate my forearms from my legs, I thought I had better check with Ed before removing my gag. Christ! Why was I even asking? Ed graciously consented and I yanked the stuffing from my mouth leaving the soggy lycra hanging round my neck. Once I had manoeuvred the knot round to the front, it was still quite difficult untying it. “Don’t drop it in the dirt, it won’t taste very nice afterwards.” I don’t think Ed heard what I called him under my breath.
“Off you go. Get a good wash and rinse out your clothes. I can’t have Hilary thinking that I haven’t been looking after her little cousin, can I?” I think he was being only half disingenuous.
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“You OK?” I needed to ask. Frank nodded. Once more I got the idea that he expected no better from life.
“Don’t spend to long chewing the fat. Or shall I try locking some of that chain in your mouth? I’ve got another padlock here. It’ll hurt but it might help to bring you two lovebirds closer.”
“Nah, nah, I’m good, thanks. We’re going. Ready, mate?” Once more Frank nodded and we jogged down to the lake.
We approached over the pebble beach, where we left the towel, my footwear and my clean shorts, and kept jogging until we were waist deep in the water. I know it was silly but we waited until we enjoyed that level of privacy before removing what passed for our clothing. It was quite easy for Frank but, being chained together, my attempts at removing my jammers occasioned my fellow sufferer to take a few duckings, in one of which I joined him. I gave up on the idea of trying to protect my modesty in present company from then on.
We both rinsed and wrung out our garments and took a short walk to the bank to deposit them on the stones. There was no attempt by either of us to moderate our nudity now. “Fancy going back in for a while?”
“Effs.” Frank nodded. It had brewed up into a very warm day and the idea of a recreational bit of skinny dipping was very enticing especially as Ed was some distance away. We both worked our way deeper into the water and repeatedly ducked our heads and massaged our scalps. We even made rudimentary attempts at cleaning ourselves down. I tried not to look at Frank; that could have been embarrassing for at least one of us! I was content that the water was concealing any symptoms of stimulation but, being so closely connected to the guy, could have proved very problemsome. At least Frank seemed to be completely oblivious of any embarrassment.
By a process of interrogation on my part and nodding and shaking of his head on Frank’s, we both agreed to move into shallower water where we could sit for a while. I learned a little more about my companion but I still couldn’t find out why he didn’t just rat Hilary out to his parents or find some other way of not being subjected to her ministrations. I probably still haven’t got the full picture.
Once more, life almost became good again.
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Things were too good to last. “Oi, Gaylord, stop kissing your new little boyfriend,” (I wasn’t and he wasn’t my boyfriend!) “Dry off and get your lazy little arses over here.” We sighed, looked resignedly at one another, stood and left the water.
It would normally have been OK to have drip dried in the sun but I didn’t want to have to walk around with my football shorts clinging to my wet form so I took the advantage of first use of the towel. Frank didn’t find the need to towel down, other than to dry his hair a bit, and, after I had climbed into my blue shorts, he simply wrapped the towel around his waist and secured it as best he could.
“OK?” Frank nodded and we each picked up our swimming gear and I round up my discarded footwear.
We didn’t return to where Smeggy Eddie was lounging anywhere nearly as quickly as when we had jogged to the lake. We hung the wet garments over a convenient branch and stood before Ed’s chair.
“I’ve had an idea.” That did not sound promising. “I can’t have the Rodent wandering around in a wet towel.” I don’t know why Ed was explaining this to me. “So, before you lose that chain, he’s got some dressmaking to do.”
Ed had a roll of tape at the ready and what looked like the remains of a robust, black refuse sack. That was exactly what it was; my big brother had converted it into a tube, which he held up for Frank’s inspection. “A bit of gaffer tape and I’ll bet this would make a kilt for you.” Frank did not look convinced. “Or there again, you could go round in the nuddie. Suit yourself.”
Frank obviously had very little choice. He stepped into the black plastic tube, which he hitched up underneath the towel. He seemed to be much more reluctant to display his bits in front of Ed than he had been earlier on with me. The towel dropped as Frank continued lifting the plastic tube and it looked as though Frank was wearing some sort of mini-dress that started under his armpits and reached down to past his knees.
“OK, Shrimp, give him a hand.”
“What?”
“Well, he is your, er, ‘friend’ isn’t he?” I simply snorted. “Take this roll of tape and wrap it round him, you know, round his waist.” Frank nodded in what I assumed was an attempt to reassure me. I wrapped two layers of tape tightly in a place that turned out to be near the top of his hips. I didn’t really want to feel around too much to locate his waist. “OK, Rodent, fold the rest down.”
Frank stood wearing a sort of crumpled double layered skirt that looked as though it would probably be decent all the while he was standing up. “Want the Shrimp to wrap a bit more tape round that for you?”
“’Unngh!” That sounded like one of the words I often use to describe my big brother. He let it pass.
I did form another belt round Frank’s ‘garment’ just below the top in an attempt to provide him with at least minimal concealment. Frank managed to convey to Ed that he would like me to give him the gaffer tape. That seemed to amuse Ed who told me to hand it over. In a less humiliating situation I would have found it equally amusing as Frank attempted to improvise what I now know as a sort of culottes with the inner skirt by attaching the front to the back with several strips of tape. I couldn’t help wondering why he bothered.
Ed surveyed his charges. “Now, what can we do to pass the time?”
TBC