THE PERSUADERS (multiple m/m & some f/m)

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

THE PERSUADERS (multiple m/m & some f/m)

Post by Xtc »

FOREWORD

Here’s the next story in the Troop v Troop saga.
The first tale was https://www.tugstories.com/viewtopic.php?f=8&t=1115
And this follows https://www.tugstories.com/viewtopic.php?f=8&t=11035

This is quite a long one so here's part 1
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 »

THE PERSUADERS 1


Friday Night



“Alright, you’ve shown us you’re a man; you’ve put up with being staked out by the fire all night and didn’t beg for release even when you wet yourself. You haven’t betrayed your mates. But you still haven’t told us what we need to know! Now we’re in a bit of a hurry if we’re going to catch the other culprits this weekend. So no more Mr. Nice Guys! Understand?” So saying, Jamie took his foot off Tarzan’s cheek and allowed him to look up again.

------00000-----

By now, he really should have known better: if you’re a Sea Scout, you don’t piss off the “Land Farmers” and then walk home from school alone. Tarzan just didn’t think as he left school that Friday night and made for his friend’s place. He’d been in detention (nothing unusual there), a long one (nothing unusual there either!) and was due to spend Friday night with his friend, Budgie, and then go on to Troop activities for the rest of the weekend.

It was a warm evening and, before he left school, Tarzan removed his polo shirt and stuffed it into his rucksack followed by his school trousers which he replaced with the running shorts he’d used earlier in the day. Once he’d removed his black school shoes and socks and put on his lightweight boots and grey Bridgedales, he was ready for the walk. He had to walk because he couldn’t find his bus pass and, in any case, by the time he’d been released, it was too late for it to count and his parents thought that having to walk would serve him right.

As they caught up with him, Tarzan was completely unaware of their presence until Long Tom bent down to speak quietly in his ear. “Don’t try to run. Don’t make a noise. It’s not just Jamie and me; there’s a few more of our Troop very near and they’d all like a little word with you.”

Long Tom spoke into his right ear just as Jamie hammer locked his left arm up his back. There was no one else around and resistance would have been futile. Tarzan was a muscular little kid but, in the presence of Long Tom his stature was dwarfed and Jamie, although no giant, was also larger than he and also had muscles in his spit.

“Submit?”

Tarzan nodded, he knew it was a fair cop, and, more to the point, that he had no chance against these two let alone any others who might be around. Tom un-buckled his rucksack and pulled it off his right shoulder prior to hammering his right arm uncomfortably up his back. Once it was removed completely and Jamie had “re-positioned” his left arm, Long Tom took a short length of rope and tied the middle of it firmly just above Tarzan’s right elbow after having wound it about three times round. Jamie lowered his left arm and Tom bound it in a similar way having brought his elbows to within about fifteen centimetres of each other. That can’t have been comfortable because Tarzan, as his Sea Scout name implies was not built on slim and supple lines. A few more turns around both ropes just inside his left elbow pulled his elbows even closer together as did the final loops above his right elbow and round both ropes again.

“Right, now we’re taking you to your weekend cottage,” explained Jamie meaning that Tarzan was going to be marched to the Scouts’ Cottage where he could be more conveniently interrogated. “Most people won’t even notice that you’re tied up and, if anyone asks, we’ll tell them it’s a game. If they ask you, you’ll tell them it’s a game. You could refuse to co-operate and get yourself freed. The grown-ups will only make sure we let you go and won’t do anything else. It’s your choice: get this over with now or keep watching your back when we have longer than a weekend to get our revenge.”

This made sense to Tarzan who must have known that retribution was inevitable. He just regretted being negligent enough to allow himself to be taken on the way to Budgie’s place on that evening. But at least he was the only one who’d been caught (or so he hoped).

-----00000-----

The Scouts had arrived for their weekly Tuesday evening meeting to find that the Cottage had been visited and “decorated”. The visitors weren’t vandals, the Sea Scouts just wished to make a point. Breaking and entry is illegal in English law but, if entry can be gained without damage, that’s a different matter. Since this incident the hasp on the generator shed has been fastened far more sensibly and the cottage keys stored somewhere else.

Tarzan and some of his fellow Sea Scouts had paid the Cottage a visit. A well-produced sign by the gate asked “PLEASE LEAVE YER TRAACTURR’S IN THE CARR PARRK”; good rendition of dialect, piss poor punctuation. A further laminated sign stapled to the door reminded the “Farmer Boys” that “ORL PET PIGS MUST BE LEFT AT THE DOORR.” As if that wasn’t bad enough, once they’d entered the training room, they noticed the white-board. “FARMER BOYS CAN’T SAIL FOR F***” had been very carefully written and elaborately decorated. That wasn’t really fair as any self-respecting scouts, either male or female, in that area could sail and/or kayak as if born to it which, given the coastal locality, I suppose they were. It’s just that the Sea Scouts had won a recent regatta hands down. The final insult was the jar of corn stalks on the table labelled “HELP YOURSELF BUT PLEASE DON’T SPIT THE STUBS ONTO THE FLOOR”.

The “Sailor Boys” admired their work, locked the door, replaced the keys and re-fastened the hasp onto the generator shed. Tarzan didn’t notice that, when he got his screwdriver out of his pocket, his bus pass fell to the ground.

The Sea Scouts got on their mountain bikes and made good their get-away.

-----00000-----

The walk to the Cottage took quite some time and any potential problems were diffused by a cheery, “Good evening” from Jamie or Long Tom or even, under existing duress, from Tarzan. At least Jamie had taken his rucksack for him.

As they entered the Inclosure that surrounds the Cottage, the three boys were joined by Zac and Vic. Vic had a pioneering spar and some rope with him and explained that it was time to re-tie Tarzan ready for later.

“What if anyone sees us?” It was a desperate attempt on Tarzan’s behalf but the answer was obvious. "Same as before: it’s a game and, in any case, we’re taking the narrow tracks from now on, the ones that aren’t on the grockles’(1) or dog-walkers’ routes."

Tarzan still knew there was no point in resisting, even as a matter of honour, when he was so heavily outnumbered. Zac took two ropes arranged them side by side and located the middles. Tarzan was forced to kneel and cross his ankles before his elbows were freed. He was then allowed a few minutes to massage his elbows and flex his shoulders.

“Ready, kid?”

“Yea, just get on with it.”

Once Vic had pushed the spar up against the back of Tarzan’s neck, Zac positioned the ropes round his throat. Having passed the ends of one rope above the spar and the ends of the other below the spar and above the prisoner’s shoulders, Zac wound the ropes in counter directions around the spar and tied them together near the right of Tarzan’s neck. He then repeated the procedure on the other side trapping the spar behind Tarzan’s neck firmly but not tightly enough to impede his breathing. Tarzan could guess what was coming and spread his arms along the spar. Sure enough, Zac and Vic took an arm each. After all the years of feuding, taking prisoners and playing “Tied Games” this was a well rehearsed procedure. The ropes were knotted together above Tarzan’s armpits and then wrapped around them three times before being tied off again.

“Oh, come on, boys, you don’t need to do this you know. There’s no way I can escape from all of you.”

“It’s not a question of need. It’s a question of justice.”

Tarzan tried to keep his muscles tensed as the ropes were knotted off and tied round his arms repeatedly as Vic and Zac worked their way towards his wrists. Once his wrists had been fastened, leaving lots of spare rope, Tarzan relaxed his muscles. No use, there was not enough potential slack to enable him to move his wrists towards his body.

Just to be unpleasant, Jamie pulled Tarzan’s polo shirt out of his rucksack and blindfolded him with it.

The poor kid had been effectively crucified and, as the party moved through the narrow passages of the Inclosure, he was often forced to move sideways. Being blindfolded didn’t make his progress easy or comfortable and was the source of considerable trepidation. OK, the Scouts wanted their revenge, but they would make sure that their prisoner never came to any real harm. Eventually the party arrived at the Cottage. Tarzan was exhausted.

-----00000-----

Not having got out of school ‘til about five and having taken at least two hours getting to the Cottage, Tarzan was now thirsty, hungry and absolutely knackered. His captors just left him face down on the ground, after having tied his ankles to a second spar keeping his legs uncomfortably spread, and went into the Cottage for refreshments.

Tarzan was beginning to wonder whether he’d been forgotten. He could hear comings and goings and the sounds of other boys arriving – the casual verbal abuse as they passed him told him as much. He could also hear the inevitable sound of pine logs crackling as the camp fire got underway. He’d started to get spooked and the Scouts’ plan was starting to work but Tarzan, although one of the youngest of the Sea Scouts, was made of sterner stuff. Mentally, he held in there. He couldn’t help thinking, however, about the Land Farmers’ infamous practice of “hanging their guests in the wardrobe” (2). He wasn’t looking forward to that and only hoped that he would be able to hold out for the sake of his fellow “decorators and sign writers”.

There is a typical Forest stand of stunted Scots pines on the site, only just beyond the camp fire circle, and the Scouts started preparing for the night. They had decided that it was much too fine a night to go for indoor camping and collected various tarps and hammocks from stores. The Twins used a large tarp to form a ground sheet and reflector near the fire and arranged their sleeping bags on it. Everyone else slung their bashas over either hammocks or multimats to make themselves comfortable. This was the kind of camping they loved. There were no adults and there was probably not going to be a lot of sleeping done either. There was even a prisoner to torment.

Once camp was pitched and supper cooked (They weren’t that purist, they used the kitchen’s facilities there) and eaten, they turned their attentions to their guest. He’d now been left on his belly and spread-eagled for an uncomfortable length of time.

Tarzan was forced to his feet and supported on both sides by the Twins. I suppose it was only customary when Jamie asked him who was with him when he visited their HQ because he didn’t really expect an answer, not from this kid.

“OK, suit yourself. Stake him out.” Zac, Vic and the Twins, took hold of the ends of the staves stretching the unfortunate Sea Scout tight and carried him, face up to a space between the fire and the improvised camp. Four substantial stakes had already been hammered into the ground ready to receive the visitor. The spare rope ends from Tarzan’s wrists were tied to two of the stakes. Tarzan was hoping that he’d be freed from the stave but no such luck; The Farmer Boys obviously meant business. Loose ends from the ropes tying the spacer spar to his feet were looped round the other stakes and pulled tight, instantly undoing any progress that Tarzan had made in drawing his legs together. Long Tom checked his blindfold and told him that, as soon as he told them who else was responsible for the raid in which he’d lost his bus pass, he’d have his arms released from the spar and allowed some exercise.

“Want to tell me?”

The reply translated roughly as, “Make love elsewhere.”

“OK, last chance for a drink.” offered Jamie, making it seem that the offer was compassionate but, desperate as he was, Tarzan had already been involved in enough TUGs to understand the idea behind the offer. He declined. With that, Tom lodged a knotted piece of fabric into Tarzan’s mouth and tied it tightly round his head.

“As soon as you want to talk, make the effort, push the gag out and talk. If you push it out and don’t tell us what we want to know, Big Steve and Little Joe here (Joe shot Long Tom one of his poisonous looks) will wrap so much gorilla tape round your head that you’ll be picking glue out of what’s left of your hair for a week.”

The Scouts then returned to their sleeping bags and made themselves comfortable but there was obviously no settling down until the early hours. Once everyone agreed it was time to settle, the Twins agreed to keep an eye on Tarzan every so often while Joe wondered how he ought to pay Long Tom back for the “Little Joe” reference.

A peaceful night passed for everyone – except, of course, for Tarzan. He’d been offered no food and his arms had been kept straight for hours. He ached. Even the refusal of the drink that was offered hadn’t worked and he had been forced to wet himself before any of the Sea Scouts was awake. He was a tough little kid and was still determined not to dob-in his accomplices.



1) “Grockles” Local term for tourists. Usually considered to be the short form of “damned grockles”.
2) “Hanging in the wardrobe” See my story “The Land Farmers and the Sailor Boys” https://www.tugstories.com/viewtopic.php?f=8&t=1115 .


TBC
They all say boxer shorts are cool,
but little Speedos always rule.
User avatar
blackbound
Millennial Club
Millennial Club
Posts: 1057
Joined: 5 years ago

Post by blackbound »

Excellent, another xtc story of endlessly creative situations. I really don't know how you keep coming up with them.
User avatar
Xtc
Site Admin
Site Admin
Posts: 3428
Joined: 6 years ago
Location: Not deep enough into the Forest

Post by Xtc »

Fortunately for me in my current rather dire situation, I have the stories from the previous incarnation of the site and editing them provides me with a much needed displacement activity.

Thank you for your support, [mention]blackbound[/mention] .
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 »

Ah! Lovely story. So glad to see it again.
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. No major changes this time!
They all say boxer shorts are cool,
but little Speedos always rule.
User avatar
blackbound
Millennial Club
Millennial Club
Posts: 1057
Joined: 5 years ago

Post by blackbound »

Xtc wrote: 3 years ago Fortunately for me in my current rather dire situation, I have the stories from the previous incarnation of the site and editing them provides me with a much needed displacement activity.

Thank you for your support, @blackbound .
Sorry to hear it! Hope things start looking up for you this year.
User avatar
Socksbound
Centennial Club
Centennial Club
Posts: 563
Joined: 3 years ago
Location: Melbourne

Post by Socksbound »

Always a delight to see another [mention]Xtc[/mention] masterpiece. Given I didn’t read much on the old board these tales are fresh and exciting for me. Love the intro. Hoping Tarzan can hold out and maybe get rescued, but if he eventually squeals the rest of his troop slowly succumbing to the same fate is equally nice.
See all my written works here :
https://tugstories.com/viewtopic.php?p=38747#p38747

Image
Banner by Bondagefreak
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. And "No comment" in that order.
They all say boxer shorts are cool,
but little Speedos always rule.
User avatar
Dominik
Forum Contributer
Forum Contributer
Posts: 57
Joined: 6 years ago

Post by Dominik »

Great start again! I'm looking forward to the next parts.

(I hope the boys brought enough ropes for the continuation.)
User avatar
Xtc
Site Admin
Site Admin
Posts: 3428
Joined: 6 years ago
Location: Not deep enough into the Forest

Post by Xtc »

Thanks, [mention]Dominik[/mention] Nice to hear from you again.
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 »

THE PERSUADERS 2


Saturday Morning



The Scouts started to waken at an hour at which no other self-respecting teenager would be found stirring and started organising breakfast and building up the fire again. No one took any notice of Tarzan, except to check his security, until breakfast was over. He found new reserves of determination: he’d put up with the torture, he’d wet himself, he hurt, he was hungry and more thirsty than he’d ever been. After all that, he couldn’t weaken now. At least his practice of isometrics let him gain some relief for his immobilised body even if it hadn’t loosened his bindings to any useful extent. Perhaps the Farmer Boys couldn’t .sail for f*** but they surely could tie. The polo shirt had come adrift some time before but nobody could be bothered to replace it; after all, he wasn’t going anywhere.

By the time Jamie had removed the sole of his boot from Tarzan’s face, he was sure that the kid would be broken. No such luck. It was time for subtlety. Enter the Scout’s finest Field General and student of history. He was still only half dressed but duty called.

Long Tom knelt down and spoke quietly to the young captive. He seemed to be giving him a history lesson. “Did you now that, in the Second World War, captured soldiers were often handed over to the women of their captors? It wasn’t considered to be the best way to go. Now, the girls are due in a couple of hours. When they come, they expect you to be given into their care. Does that change things at all? I’ll give you five minutes to consider your position.” Tom then got up and returned to his rucksack to continue dressing.

Five minutes later and Long Tom returned, knelt down and continued in his disturbingly calm manner. “What do you think? Want to tell me who else was with you?” and he slipped Tarzan’s saturated gag down onto his chin.

“Please, I can’t have girls seeing me like this. It’s not fair to involve them.”

“I think that we can decide what’s fair at the minute, don’t you? But don’t worry, by the time they see you, we’ll have taken those nasty wet shorts and briefs off you. You don’t need to worry; they’ll probably think you’re quite cute.”

It wasn’t just the embarrassment of having the girls seeing him in the state that Long Tom seemed to be implying; it was also the fact that, if the girls that he was expecting were to turn up, he would be “standing to attention” at the very thought of being tickle tortured by them. After all that he had been through, his resolve faded.

“It was Budgie and me.”

“There now, don’t you feel better for that?” asked Tom as he offered Tarzan a drink of water. The fabric gag was then untied, repositioned and re-tied tightly in place. Tarzan had been hoping for some food.

Zac and Vic got to work, they told Tarzan that he was going to be taken to a shower where he could get his wet things off and visit the toilet. They untied his arms and neck from the spar and gave him quite a few minutes to massage and shake himself before taking one of their prize possessions, a pair of real handcuffs, and fastening his wrists behind him after he had removed his t-shirt. Before releasing Tarzan’s ankles, Vic stuck a strip of gaffer tape over his eyes and pulled off his boots and socks. Zac hauled him to his feet where both boys supported him while he regained his balance.

“Ready?” Tarzan nodded.

They took him not to the main shower block but to a sort of shed that had been converted into a wet room as it was easier to prevent escape from there. Jamie gave him his orders as he threw the towel and wash-bag from his rucksack in after him. He needed to slip his hands under his bum, strip, remove his gag and blindfold then do what he needed to do.

“Oh, and before you come out, tape your eyes with this and slip your hands back behind you.” Tarzan felt the roll of tape hit him as the door closed. “You’ve only got twenty minutes, get on with it!

It took him a minute or so to slip his wrists to be in front of him before Tarzan managed to remove his unpleasant shorts and underpants and lose his gag and blindfold. He knew that he had plenty of clothes in his rucksack for after his shower and assumed that they would be sent in once the shower had stopped. He revelled in the warmth of the shower and not much less in the use of the toilet. About twenty minutes later he heard voices outside telling him to wrap his towel around him, cover his eyes, replace his gag and get his hands behind him.

“Oh yes, very funny. How am I supposed to wrap my towel around me with my hands chained?”

“OK. Just turn and face the wall.”

Tarzan did so and Zac and Vic entered the wet room. Vic checked that the gaffer tape and gag had been used as instructed and Tarzan felt something coarse and itchy being pulled down over his shoulders and down towards his waist. His arms were extricated from it and he felt something being fastened tightly around his waist. Whatever it was that had been pulled down from his shoulders was then given a few tugs downwards, pulling against whatever had been fastened round his waist.

Vic told Tarzan that real jungle boys don’t wear proper clothes so they had given him something more suitable. Zac pulled off the blindfold and Tarzan looked into the mirror which Vic wiped free from condensation. The Scouts had opened the bottom of a hessian sack making a tube which they had held in place using Tarzan’s own Sea Scout belt, which they’d retrieved from his rucksack, and then doubled over to make a sort of kilt. He was not happy!

Tarzan’s protests were muffled so he tried to expel his gag. Zac clamped his hand over it while Vic explained that, if he had to tape the gag in place, there would be no breakfast. Tarzan’s poisonous look was wasted as Vic blindfolded him again with duct tape. The two Scouts then took their guest and his disgusting shorts and underpants out of the wet room and over to the training room where Scott had left some breakfast things for Tarzan. He was made to kneel and Vic cross-lashed his ankles very tightly forcing his knees wide apart. Tarzan really didn’t want his legs spread while he was wearing just a sacking kilt without underwear. Never mind the potential embarrassment, the damned thing itched in places he wouldn’t want to be seen scratching in public even if he could.

Zac removed Tarzan’s gag and Vic drew a fresh mug of water and carefully fed it to him followed by another one until he said that he’d had enough. Jamie brought him some cereal served it in the traditional way: he poured milk into the little cellophane inner package and fed Tarzan spoonfuls of it.

“Had enough?”

“Please may I have another one?” He didn’t know what, if anything else, he’d be offered and he hadn’t eaten since lunchtime yesterday. Jamie served another individual packet without spreading much around Tarzan’s mouth. Tarzan even managed to thank him.

“OK, open up.” ordered Jamie and Tarzan was resigned to having his gag tied on once more instead of which he found the end of a hot dog inserted. He took a bite and squirted copious amounts of tomato ketchup down his chest. He finished the thing with Jamie’s assistance and with some difficulty. “Want a bacon sarnie?”

“Yes, please.” This time the meat was dripping with brown sauce, a fair bit of which joined the ketchup adorning Tarzan’s body. He hadn’t managed to notice the sound of a camera at various times. The last course was a banana before he was offered a carton of orange juice. The “Thank you,” was perfectly genuine but Tarzan knew that it was too good to last.

Long Tom suggested that it was time to gag their prisoner again ready for when the girls came to look after him.

“You said that, if I dobbed Budgie in, you wouldn’t hand me over.”

“I don’t remember saying that. I only said what we’d do to you if you didn’t tell.”

“You bastard!”

“Now, now, not nice. That’ll cost you. But, unless you’ve got anything more to tell me, I’d hate to disappoint the girls.”

“If I tell, will you promise not to let the girls torture me?”

“No, but at least I know now that there is something you haven’t told me.”

“Shit!”

Long Tom waited. Tarzan thought. Should he rat and hope for mercy? Should he hold out knowing about the embarrassment to come? He would surely dob-in his other fellow raider inside five minutes at the hands of the girls. He had no choice.

“Alex was with us too. He did the cartoon. PLEEEEASE don’t let the girls have me.”

“We’ll see.” Tom recalled the cartoon they found on the white board. He should have recognised the style; neither Tarzan nor Budgie could have done that so well. “Open wide!”

Tom tied a fresh length of knotted fabric into the defeated boy’s mouth and followed it with three rounds of duct tape. All defiance dissipated, Tarzan slumped and just had to hope that even the Farmer Boys couldn’t be that inhuman.


-----00000-----


It was still early and Budgie didn’t expect his phone to ring that early. He’d had a phone call from Jamie only the previous evening explaining that his mate was all tied up at the minute and wouldn’t be joining him. He became suspicious then. Now his suspicions had been confirmed. There was even a photo to confirm them.

“So what’s it going to be? Do we hand him over to Charlie and Amy or are you going to surrender yourself before they arrive?”

“What about Alex?”

“You really should be more careful what you say. I might not have known about Alex.” Budgie wasn’t very long on thinking. “It’s you I’m talking to. It’s you that needs to be here, stripped off and nicely bound or I might decide that it wouldn’t be fair to disappoint the girls.”

“I’ll need to ring Skip and say I won’t be going with the rest of the Troop.”

“Do it and bring your weekend stuff with you. Be quick.”

Budgie took the point and made his arrangements. Even he couldn’t leave his best mate to the mercy of those two sirens.


-----00000-----


Jamie was practicing his telephone manner that morning.

“Hello, is Alex there, please? . . . . It’s Jamie from the Scouts. . . . Thanks.”

Jamie explained that he knew who was responsible for the raid on the Cottage and that he had already secured the other two culprits. I suppose that was true in a way. Alex said that his mother was “in one of THOSE moods” and that he had to get some overdue coursework done in the morning and look after his handicapped brother until she returned later in the afternoon. He wasn’t even allowed to go to the Troop camp this weekend. Jamie understood Alex’s situation. Everyone did. In the light of that, negotiations elevated to a more civilised plane. Jamie commiserated with his rival but pointed out that honour still had to be satisfied. They came to the agreement that, if Alex hadn’t surrendered by seven o’clock, Long Tom could give the other two to the girls. Alex was pretty sure that, as long as his mother saw a brilliant piece of coursework, she’d be only too happy to see the back of him for the rest of the weekend.

It was ironic that Jamie’s parting remark to his ‘enemy’ was, “Sorry, mate.” The games mattered, the feud mattered but not as much as the participants mattered when real life intruded.



TBC

They all say boxer shorts are cool,
but little Speedos always rule.
harveygasson
Millennial Club
Millennial Club
Posts: 1348
Joined: 6 years ago

Post by harveygasson »

Great as always
User avatar
Xtc
Site Admin
Site Admin
Posts: 3428
Joined: 6 years ago
Location: Not deep enough into the Forest

Post by Xtc »

Thanks; I appreciate the support.
They all say boxer shorts are cool,
but little Speedos always rule.
User avatar
Socksbound
Centennial Club
Centennial Club
Posts: 563
Joined: 3 years ago
Location: Melbourne

Post by Socksbound »

That was a dirty trick by Long Tom on Tarzan, but I thoroughly approve. Great writing as always [mention]Xtc[/mention]
See all my written works here :
https://tugstories.com/viewtopic.php?p=38747#p38747

Image
Banner by Bondagefreak
User avatar
Xtc
Site Admin
Site Admin
Posts: 3428
Joined: 6 years ago
Location: Not deep enough into the Forest

Post by Xtc »

He will learn never to trust Long Tom when he's speaking gently. - - - perhaps.
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 »

THE PERSUADERS 3


Budgie joins the Party



While Jamie was issuing the invitations, Tarzan was taken out to a sturdy post in the grounds. Zac and Long Tom lifted him bound as he was and knelt him with his back to it. His handcuffs were unlocked from his right wrist and re-fastened behind the post and his ankles were tied to it as well, denying him the opportunity to sit with his feet in front of him. He was in for a further uncomfortable time and he hadn’t been able to hear the arrangements Jamie was making. All he could think about was what he might be showing to the world kneeling with his knees forced apart; at least it took his mind off his discomfort.

The Scouts busied themselves with things around the site and Tarzan found himself being ignored again. With his being handcuffed, there was no need to check on him very often and there wasn’t much sport to be had from kicking a man who was so far down.

The Twins went with Scott and Vic to receive Budgie at the gate to the Inclosure. They took a long stave with them intending to greet him in the same way they had greeted Tarzan the previous evening. Before long, Budgie leaned forward on his bike to open the gate. By the time he’d closed it again, he knew his fate was sealed.

“Morning, Sailor Boy. Off the bike. Come with us.” Budgie dismounted and Joe took his bike and rode it along one of the better paths to the Cottage while Vic and Scott wrenched his arms up his back and marched him out of sight of the gate.

“That’ll do. Get ‘em off.”

Budgie knew that he had to cooperate and he was prepared for it. Surprise, surprise, he’d even bothered to wear those black budgie-smugglers as underwear. Sometimes the others wished he’d try to get away with wearing something a bit less brief but, with the way he was growing, they’d soon be too tight “under the armpits” and he’d have to get something else. Big Steve packed Budgie’s rucksack and strapped it on while Vic and Scott got down to “crucifying” Budgie. Once his arms had been stretched along the spar, Scott blindfolded him with several rounds of gaffer tape wrapped round a neckerchief. Scott had also brought a personal favourite of his, he’d enclosed a lime in an old football sock which he tied into the stocky kid’s mouth and tied tightly round his head. A few more rounds of duct tape rendered their victim totally incomprehensible and extremely quiet.

Before starting to lead him along the same narrow, unfrequented paths that they’d used to transport Tarzan the previous evening, Budgie had been forced face down on the ground and his trainers were replaced and laced up. He was grateful for that but was in no position to thank his benefactors.

“Right Boy, on your feet.” Budgie scrambled clumsily to his feet, Scott and Vic dragged him, often sideways along the narrow, poorly made tracks with Big Steve acting as lookout. After many stumbles and muffled expletives, prisoner and escort reached the cottage gate.

Budgie has probably never before got a cheer like the one he received as he arrived on site but it wasn’t a very encouraging cheer. Now it was time to start the real torment.

-----00000-----

Unbeknownst to the two captives, Jamie had contacted the girls and stood them down but promised that there should be an opportunity for them to enjoy themselves later. He couldn’t see Alex escaping from the Dragon Mother From Hell before the evening. That suited the girls: Scouts or not, it was Saturday - shopping called!

Budgie was manhandled towards where Tarzan was kneeling. He could only guess what was happening. The post to which Tarzan had been tied was part of a sort of ceremonial gate to the camp-fie circle. Two very substantial posts marked the entrance and there was a sturdy top lintel that extended beyond the verticals. An attractive piece of joinery topped the whole thing off. I don’t think the Scouts were concerned with aesthetics, they were just glad it was strong.

Budgie was made to stand on a baker’s tray that had been placed between the posts. The spar that stretched his arms was positioned against the upright poles and lashed skilfully into place leaving him just about on his feet.

“Come on, lads. That’s not good enough yet,” announced Long Tom. He’ll work himself downwards over the time that he’s going to be there.” Not the most comforting statement Budgie had ever heard. Vic and Scott threw two heavier ropes over the cross bar near the posts. After little more than a minute they had been hitched round Budgie’s spar and the spar was lashed so that his heels were no longer in contact with the baker’s tray and there was no way the spar was moving downwards by more than there would be give in the ropes.

“Armpits at the ready for tickling,” as Jamie announced, made Tarzan’s blood run cold at the thought of what was about to happen to his companion. At least he wasn’t stretched out. “OK, put him up there with his mate.”

It couldn’t have taken Vic and Zac more than ten minutes to untie Tarzan and turn him into a mirror image of his fellow raider. The two Sailor Boys ended back to back whilst sharing a spar and a baker’s tray. “Good job they’re the same height.” observed Jamie. Tarzan, who was just a smidgen shorter, begged to disagree.

By the time Zac and Vic had finished, the ropes over the cross beam had stretched a bit and both captives could stand properly again. Tarzan and Budgie were then left on their own for a time while the Scouts made some decisions. Tarzan’s hessian kilt was now irritating not only him but Budgie as well and, with the mutual wriggling, Tarzan became almost paranoid about the wretched thing riding up and displaying whatever he’d got to the world. Blindfolds are really effective torture devices!

Following the planning and refreshment break, the Scouts returned to their guests who were still not convinced that the girls wouldn’t appear. “Prepare them for torture,” ordered Jamie.

“Shit. The bastards.” thought Tarzan. Jamie knew how to torment to the extreme and with minimum effort.

The Twins tied the Sea Scouts’ right ankles to their compatriots' lefts using sheer lashings that left plenty of spare rope. The older boys complimented them on their rope work.

“Ok, Joe, together now,” called Big Steve and they gently pulled the bound ankles towards the upright posts causing the prisoners to perform quite uncomfortable splits. They didn’t pull so far as to leave their victims' feet completely clear of the baker’s trays but it wasn’t far off. The ends of the ropes were then attached firmly to the uprights. They left the crucified boys to ‘settle’ for a while.

Then it happened: the sound they didn’t want to hear. “Hiiii, just visiting.” Tarzan and Budgie both recognised that voice.

“Morning, lover boy.” And that one.


The Girls' Visit



Charlie and Amy had come on their mountain bikes to visit their boyfriends before going to town. Scott and Vic greeted them in their normal fashion and the rest of the Scouts jeered in theirs. The couples just went into the meeting room for some quiet.

What happened in the next hour or so might be recounted at a later date but I think delicacy forbids.

After that, the two girls reappeared laughing.

“Are the boys not with you?” asked Zac.

“No, they’re not talking to us at the minute.”

Nothing more was thought about it as the boys went about their business and the captive Sea Scouts started to get worried.

“Oh, come on, Tom, just five minutes. Pleeease,” wheedled Charlie. She could usually wrap any of the boys round her little finger and had been negotiating to be allowed a little time to torture the prisoners.

“OK, but only five minutes now. No more. – UNLESS Alex doesn’t turn up this evening.”

The struggling in the entrance to the camp-fire circle became frantic in spite of the limited scope for movement enjoyed by Tarzan and Budgie. It’s a good job that the names being used for the Scouts were muffled just in case anyone within hearing range was of a delicate disposition.

“I know, suggested Charlie. First one to make her prisoner giggle or squeal’s the winner. She has to buy the Macky D’s in town.”

“You’re on, girl.”

The traditional game of scissors, paper and stone decided that Charlie would go first and that Amy could decide whom she should tickle. Charlie was to tickle Tarzan. Not at all the news he wished to hear!

“Come on,” he thought desperately, “think of something really boring: algebra, geography, Spanish, anything!” Although his panic was reaching a frenzy, it was still a matter of honour not to let Charlie make him squeal.

One of the boys pushed the baker’s tray from under the captives with his boot so that their feet could be more easily accessed. Nothing was too good for the girls as the helpless boys continued trying to shout into their gags.

Amy was timing things. “Ready. GO!” and Charlie’s nimble fingers got started. Although the frantic and vain attempts at evasion continued, Tarzan tried to maintain a (not very dignified) silence from that signal on. Charlie’s fingers poked round her subject’s armpits, round his pecs and nipples and gradually down towards the belt of his improvised kilt. By that time all attempts to think about algebra faded in a haze of torment and knocking heads. Before Tarzan could experience any noticeable embarrassment, he broke. At the first sign of what might have been a laugh replacing the former strained noises escaping from behind the fabric and tape that impeded Tarzan’s mouth, Amy stopped the stopwatch.

“Four minutes, thirty seconds. What kept you?”

“He’s tough. Let’s see you do better with yours. Ready? GO!”

Amy stared with the insides of Budgie’s thighs. Lots of strained noises worked their way past the lime that was filling his mouth. He seemed to be holding out quite well until she moved down to his feet when a sound not unlike snoring started. Long Tom decided that grunting didn’t count and that Amy should carry on. The writhing and knocking of heads became even more desperate and the grunting got louder and more frequent until Budgie could hold it no longer. What would, without the gag, have been a prolonged scream signalled the end of the contest and the shredded remains of Budgie’s dignity.

“Four minutes, thirty seven seconds.” announced a triumphant Charlie. The Macky D’s are on you!”

After the congratulatory/commiseratory hug, the girls donned their helmets and mounted their bikes.

“Byeee! See you later.” called Amy as she sped off. Amy was a diminutive brunette with long hair which was made to look even more so by her stature. She usually had Vic exactly where she wanted him.

“Byyyye!” Look after my little Scottie.” Shouted Charlie as the girls disappeared from sight.

Even hanging as they were, the prisoners heaved sighs of relief.

-----00000-----

Jamie thought it was time to show mercy and asked the Twins to untie the Sea Scouts’ feet and replace the baker’s tray. With all the struggling to which it had just been subjected, the ropework had settled as much as it was going to and both Budgie and Tarzan could stand in comparative comfort.

“Want your skirt pulled down?” asked Joe and wondered why Tarzan seemed to tense up. Then he thought. “No, I mean should I straighten it for you?” Tarzan nodded and Joe pulled both layers of fabric down against the belt holding them in place not that the wearer was displaying anything but he didn’t know that.

The Scouts had been enjoying the entertainment so much they hadn’t even given a thought to what had happened to Scott and Vic. And now they seemed to be in no hurry to find out. The next activity was log cutting and the Scouts had special permission to deal with a rotten tree that had been felled near the site. Those that had charge certificates for axes felt safer without the two main liabilities being around so no one went looking for them. There was a Forester to watch over the lumberjacks when they reached the fallen tree to ensure safe practice but he let the boys do all the work.

It took a good two hours to break up the tree with saws, axes and brute force and to carry the logs back to site on the old trek cart. By this time Vic and Scott had appeared in the door of the training room. Their friends demonstrated their usual concern for their plight: applause, laughter and derision.

Neither Scott nor Vic was laughing by that stage. They’d just had to struggle from the meeting room where the girls had left them, through the training room and thus outside. Once the laughter had subsided and Zac had removed Scott’s gag, he simply said, “Don’t ask.” So no one did.

The two boys had been tied together back to back. Their right legs had then been forced back and their right ankles tied together. They couldn’t stand and had to pull themselves along the ground as best they could.

Vic had his arms captured behind him and tied together quite high on his wrists before the rope was wrapped securely round his arms preventing any chance of separation. At least he’d been spared having his arms tied to his torso. He had been stripped down to his rather short loose grey boxers and looked as though he’d probably had his socks stuffed into his mouth before someone had swathed his lower head in so much packing tape that the merciful bandage that had been applied first didn’t show. Amy wouldn’t want anything to happen to her man’s lovely hair.

Scott had been gagged with another of the Scouts’ prize possessions. Charlie knew what he liked; she’d used the ball gag that Scott had so often had to wear when “hanging in the wardrobe”. He’d had his hands tied simply but efficiently, palm to palm, behind him and his elbows drawn close together. Someone had then thrust his arms down between Vic’s arms and his back and taken the rope under Scott’s bum and between his legs. It had been pulled tight and tied off to a heavier rope that had been wound several times round the boys’ waists pulling them tightly together. With the rather short boxer briefs that Scott favoured, the crutch rope could have been not only painful but also the cause of some indecency. Charlie didn’t mind!

A wide belt buckled round both the boys’ necks pulled their heads together until they were touching but at least they were spared blindfolds. It had taken Vic and Scott some time even to open the door between the meeting room and the training room and they had to move very carefully if Scott was to be spared unnecessary pain and embarrassment.

Once the others thought they’d had their value out of the situation, Zac freed his friends.

Scott and Vic went off to shower before getting dressed.



TBC

They all say boxer shorts are cool,
but little Speedos always rule.
User avatar
Socksbound
Centennial Club
Centennial Club
Posts: 563
Joined: 3 years ago
Location: Melbourne

Post by Socksbound »

Awesome [mention]Xtc[/mention] what devilish girls. Loving this and as always totally love the intricate tie ups
See all my written works here :
https://tugstories.com/viewtopic.php?p=38747#p38747

Image
Banner by Bondagefreak
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. It's always good to know people are following the tale.
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 »

Just a little torture interlude for your entertainment.
Well, it keeps the boys out of trouble.
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 »

THE PERSUADERS 4


Saturday Afternoon



After the logs had been sorted and stacked, the traditional Scout self-reliance was demonstrated. They sent out for pizzas. Joe, the best runner in the Troop, was despatched to the inclosure gate with a soap box cart from a recent competition with a polystyrene insert to await the delivery. His twin went with him to ride shotgun. They returned with the pizzas and with Little Steve who’d just come from his swimming training session.

Following a leisurely, and by now somewhat late, lunch Jamie thought it was time to pay some attention to their guests. Budgie was the first to be offered the chance of a loo break. He accepted. Following the usual dire warnings, his arms were freed from the stave and handcuffed behind him before his neck was released. The strap that had recently been around Scott’s and Vic’s necks was then looped around his and used as a lead by Zac. Budgie stumbled towards the wet room accompanied by Long Tom just in case he made an escape attempt but what chance, honestly? He was given the customary five minutes to attend to himself after Zac, in a moment of generosity, freed his left wrist from the handcuffs and Long Tom had cut his blindfold off. He spent next to no time contemplating an escape attempt; there were more urgent matters to attend to.

Long Tom hammered on the door and told Budgie to handcuff himself again and lie on the floor, facing away from the door, with his feet in the air. He did so and Long Tom and Zac entered the wet room. Tom checked the handcuffs and tightened them to his satisfaction while Zac checked to see that the gag had not been tampered with. Having satisfied himself on that score, he took a long scarf and tied it tightly over Budgie’s face blindfolding him completely. He then brought the ends round the front of his face again, pulled tight and applied a double knot. Budgie grunted; that was uncomfortable. But at least, he thought, it wouldn’t pull his hair out when it was removed.

A considerably relieved boy in black briefs was fastened to the spar again back to back with his companion in adversity. At least this time Long Tom had settled for tying his ankles and knees together rather than forcing him to do the splits. Just to be really annoying he tied his big toes together as well.

“Need the bog, Jungle Boy?” In spite of Zac’s jibe, Tarzan was desperate for any sort of relief. He’d been tied to that stave for most of the time since he’d been captured last evening and any part of him that didn’t ache hurt! The handcuffs were fastened and the same routine was applied to him as had been applied to Budgie. Jamie was well aware that he was finding the going rough and, in spite of the fact that, in his opinion, he deserved it, he thought it was time to extend a token of mercy to the longer suffering Sea Scout. He’d been through his rucksack and found his usual blue Speedos, the square leg ones, and threw them in to him before he had the chance to cuff himself again. For someone who’d been confined so closely for so long it was remarkable how quickly he got them on and the scratchy and embarrassing hessian sack off.

He had handcuffed himself and lain down in the expected manner. He was blindfolded just like Budgie had been and taken across to the post that he’d been tied to before. To his surprise he wasn’t fastened back to back with his fellow prisoner but was simply handcuffed to the upright post. Even his ankles weren’t tied but the Scouts’ compassion didn’t extend to sharing their pizzas.

-----00000-----

While they dined, the Scouts had recapped the situation and some of them did think that, although Tarzan obviously had to be kept hostage against the arrival of Alex, in other respects he had suffered enough. Others disagreed. There was only one way of deciding: trial by ordeal.

Jamie explained the rules to the “contestants”. The competition would be best of three challenges. If Tarzan won, he’d just be kept chained to the post and, as long as Alex kept his word, would then be released. Even Budgie figured out that, if he deliberately lost the competition, the torture would stop and Tarzan wouldn’t suffer any more than was necessary. But that’s not quite how it would work. Jamie continued: for every event Budgie lost, he would be kept prisoner for an extra three hours and handed over to the girls for tickling before he was released. All of a sudden all of Budgie’s sympathy for his mate dissolved. The serious need for self preservation surged to the fore.

Long Tom announced the order of events:
• Bulldog clips. They would be gradually applied to the equivalent parts of each contestant’s body and flicked until one of them begged for mercy.
• Towel whipping. Each contestant would be whipped with the traditional wet towel at least twenty times. The nosiest reaction to each lash would count as a point against.
• If a decider should be needed, the contestants would be tied to one another and the one who managed to reach his given target would be the winner.
At least it would help pass the time!

Little Steve found the bag of bulldog clips and the betting was on Tarzan winning. His muscles were far firmer than the comparatively flabby Budgie who seemed to have more suitable places to pinch than Tarzan.

Tarzan was pulled round the post until he was facing in the same direction as Budgie. Scott and Vic each placed a clip on the contestants’ right nipples. They got the ones onto their left nipples even before the original yelps had subsided. “One, two three.” and they flicked both clips at once. Even gagged as they were, the two Sea Scouts groaned in a most satisfactory manner. Vic and Scott then gave way to Zac and Big Steve. Clips were quickly attached to the ear lobes of both contestants and duly flicked. More yelping and more impeded imprecations. “Give in?”

“Ngggg” answered both contestants shaking their heads vigorously.

“OK, now all four.” announced Long Tom before Scott and Vic came back into the action.

Even more desperate yelping ensued followed by further refusals to give-in.

“That must be thirsty work.” called Long Tom, “Why don’t you guys take a break?”

The tormentors then sat back and enjoyed cold drinks from the fridge and just left the contestants to suffer – but not in silence.

No amount of jerking around and writhing during the Scouts’ drinks break served to remove the bulldog clips and the pain just intensified. The Scouts decided that it would not be fair to apply the clips to other parts of the contestants’ bodies because it was unfair on Budgie. How generous they were feeling! “OK, pull ‘em off.” ordered Tom, and Scott and Vic pulled the clips from the contestants’ nipples without opening them first. That hurt a bit as the sounds indicated.

Following a bit of ear flicking Long Tom ordered the clips to be replaced. More squealing ensued and Tom asked if either contestant wanted to submit before he allowed Zac and Big Steve to get back to clip flicking. Both boys indicated that Tom could go stuff himself or, at least, that’s what they wanted to say. Zac and Steve went to work with a will for about ten minutes before Tarzan’s prolonged yell prompted Long Tom to call off the dogs and offer him a chance to submit. Once the flicking had stopped, Tarzan plucked up courage to refuse.

“OK, have it your way. From now on, the clips get pulled off every sixty seconds and then replaced before fresh torturers take over.”

I think Budgie tried to say, “Thanks, mate.” just before Jamie and Long Tom took over torture duties. This time Tarzan didn’t even last three minutes before agreeing that he wanted to concede defeat. Jamie left the clips in place for another three minutes just for fun. Then he pulled them off viciously.

The Scouts decided to give their prisoners a thirty-minute break before the next event and discussed whether or not Tarzan should be crucified like Budgie to make things fair. They never seemed to consider that it would be just as fair to take Budgie down from the stave and tie his hands behind the other gate post next to where Tarzan was chained. Strange that! In the end Scott’s suggestion that they tie their hands in front of them and stretch them both from overhead tree branches was adopted. By now Budgie was certainly grateful to have been taken down from the stave but his gratitude didn’t last long after he was nearly hoisted off his feet by Zac and Scott before they secured the end of the rope around the tree trunk under a handy branch. Tarzan fared no better at the hands of the Twins and soon both contestants could only just touch their heels on the ground. At least Tarzan could walk to his tree whereas Budgie was more or less dragged into place

Blindfolds were checked and tightened (it wouldn’t do for the contestants to be able to dodge the wet towels that Vic had just removed from their own rucksacks), and gags checked. Long Tom tied Tarzan’s ankles, his knees and his toes just to even things up and the contestants were declared to be ready to start.

First go was ceded to Joe and Little Steve who readied their implements and positioned themselves at a suitable distance from their unfortunate targets. “Three, two, one. One!” called Joe and the towels cracked onto the contestant’s backsides.

“Budgie” came the massed cry following the muffled yelps indicating that he made more noise.

“Three, two one. Two!

“Budgie!” Budgie was certainly usually the bigger whinger of the two and so it was seeming so far. Tarzan convinced himself that, if he could flex his muscles on the countdowns, it would help to deaden the pain. Maybe it was working.

“Three, two, one. Three!”

“Budgie” came the massed cry. This was starting to look like a very one-sided competition.

“Change whippers.” called Long Tom and Jamie and Zac took over tormenting duties. This time they positioned themselves in front of their victims and aimed for their bellies. After the first two strokes, Budgie tried to comfort himself with the fact that he was at least an event up on Tarzan already. After the next lashes there were several sharp intakes of breath before the chorus of “Tarzan!” rang through the accompaniment of “whoar” noises and similar and sounds indicating almost sympathy.

“Sorry mate, said Jamie quite genuinely.”

“Low blooow!” said Scott with some relish.

Long Tom called a break. “You OK?” Tarzan’s response was furious and indecipherable but his limited leg movements were unmistakable. “Want to give in?” More muffled imprecations accompanied an emphatic shaking of Tarzan’s head.

“OK, give him a break then next whippers start when ready.” It was Big Steve’s and Scott’s turn and Long Tom reminded them to “Watch out for his dick this time. Even he doesn’t deserve that.” With the score standing at 5 – 1 in Tarzan’s favour, Steve and Scott decided to take aim at the contestants’ chests. “Three, two one. Seven!” The jury decided that honours were even this time but the next two prize-winning yelps counted against Budgie.

“Scores stand at 7½ - 1½, change of shift. Who hasn’t had a go yet?”

“Just you and me.” said Vic as he took the towel from Scott. “Front or back?”

Long Tom indicated “back” in such a way that the captured Sea Scouts could not guess the direction form which their attack would come. Vic gestured against his own body asking whether they were going to go for the shoulders, the buttocks or the thighs. The decision was “thighs” and the two boys got to work. This was becoming a rout.

With the score at 10 – 2 Jamie offered Budgie the chance to concede. He declined so Long Tom announced, “Two strokes each, Little Steve and Joe go first.” The next round started. It was scored at one – all. Was Tarzan weakening?

With the score at 11 – 3 Zac and Jamie decided to go for bellies. It dawned on Zac that Tarzan in particular would not be too pleased about that following his previous encounter with Jamie and announced their intention very clearly. Two strokes each and four yelps later the score stood at 11 – 5. Zac was right: Tarzan was not looking forward to that part especially when he felt the towel whipping him at the top of his Speedos.

The last two rounds were shoulders and thighs once more. The writhing was probably not as spectacular as it had been previously probably due to the increasing exhaustion of the contestants and the fact that the sheer discomfort and lack of mobility caused by standing stretched so tightly precluded it. Nevertheless, the score ended at 14 – 6. One event each.

The Scouts weren’t exactly disappointed that a decider would be needed.

“Come on lads,” suggested Jamie, “it won’t be much fun if they don’t get any recovery time before the next event. We can’t leave them like that for too much longer.”

Everyone agreed and Long Tom flipped a coin to see who would be rested first. Budgie won.



TBC

They all say boxer shorts are cool,
but little Speedos always rule.
User avatar
blackbound
Millennial Club
Millennial Club
Posts: 1057
Joined: 5 years ago

Post by blackbound »

These boys sure can take a punishment! The unrelenting cruelty of the captors is always my favorite part of your stories, Xtc.
User avatar
Xtc
Site Admin
Site Admin
Posts: 3428
Joined: 6 years ago
Location: Not deep enough into the Forest

Post by Xtc »

Not cruelty, surely? (I wish we had an icon for feigned innocence.) Merely justifiable chastisement. :twisted:
They all say boxer shorts are cool,
but little Speedos always rule.
User avatar
blackbound
Millennial Club
Millennial Club
Posts: 1057
Joined: 5 years ago

Post by blackbound »

Xtc wrote: 3 years ago Merely justifiable chastisement.
You're right, of course. "Inventiveness".
User avatar
Xtc
Site Admin
Site Admin
Posts: 3428
Joined: 6 years ago
Location: Not deep enough into the Forest

Post by Xtc »

Just a short update so the the lads don't think they've been forgotten.
They all say boxer shorts are cool,
but little Speedos always rule.
Post Reply Previous topicNext topic