GAMES ON HENSHADE HILL (Multiple mmm/m)

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GAMES ON HENSHADE HILL (Multiple mmm/m)

Post by Xtc »

We are about to meet the boys of the St. Luke's TUGS club.
I shall post quite short episodes.
Feedback would be appreciated.
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GAMES ON HENSHADE HILL


Arrival



It came as no surprise to anyone who was there already that the Green Dragons had John with them when they arrived. John was small for a fifteen year old and slim with good shoulders and a perfect, athlete’s figure that he liked to show off (along with his package) by parading around in his boxer-briefs on every possible occasion. Let’s face it, they went to an all-boys boarding school and such attire was not uncommon outside lesson time. It’s just that John was a complete old tart who made no secret of the fact that he enjoyed being tied up, and there was no shortage of boys who would be happy to oblige him.

The Green Dragons had to walk their prisoner at least five miles to get to the site of the games, a place where they were unlikely to be disturbed, and it didn’t make sense to blindfold John, as they led him barefoot but unresisting over the rough ground, if it wasn’t to take forever to get there, thus delaying the start of the games. So he had to settle for having his supple arms pulled behind him until his elbows met and having his forearms free, not that they were much use for providing balance. He had tied his own rope gag: a sort of short hangman’s knot that forced his jaws open and rendered him unintelligible if not actually silent once it had been pulled tightly into his mouth and tied off. Tim, the joker of the team, led John along using a rope tied around his waist with a half blood knot, which tightened when it was tugged but which was reluctant to release again without the assistance of his “guide”.

Being at this particular boarding school had certain advantages for the young TUGgers. They could sign out for the weekend claiming that they were hiking and camping (not far from the truth) on the extensive estate surrounding the school and, as long as no one actually got hospitalised or needed to report to Matron (NO boy would voluntarily report himself to Matron!) nobody asked too many questions. But woe betide any boy who was discovered off the estate!

So the three Dragons and their “guest” arrived on the top of the appointed hill and looked around to see who else was there while John, known as “Zoolander” amongst the staff, was being secured temporarily by being made to lie face down while his ankles were bound across one another and pulled, none too gently towards his elbows before the rope was returned to is ankles once more and further tightened before it was secured at his elbows. It was always surprising to the other youngsters when they saw just how tightly John could be drawn into a hog-tie before he protested. Several layers of bandage around John’s unruly thatch of thick, dirty blonde hair consigned him to darkness while decisions were made.

At first sight Yuri, the “guest” of the Red Barons didn’t seem to be as happy in his situation as John was in his. James pointed out that it might have been because (quite by chance?) he had been staked out in an unfortunate place on the day that the ants took wing from underneath him. Yuri wasn’t any taller than John but he was stockier, a gym-monkey with good pecs and, when he wasn’t stretched out, good biceps too. He was naturally quite dark-skinned, a trait which was emphasised by his tan. In his current situation, splayed out on the ground, his very baggy green boxers provided even less privacy than John’s tight, patterned boxer-briefs, especially where access for the insects was concerned. In addition, he’d have done anything to have been allowed to adjust the wedgie he was experiencing from where he’d been “persuaded” into position, and to tuck himself away decently. Unfortunately, the padded stick that had been forced into his mouth and fastened with gaffer tape prevented his pleas from being understood.

“I thought Yuri said, 'Never again.' after the last games,” said Alex rather interrogatively.

“Oh, James persuaded him that it would be a shame if Blatch got to find out whose work he had copied for the extended history assignment he handed in last week. He might even check all his other work so far this year,” explained Tommy.

All present agreed that blackmail was such an ugly word; and all but one were smiling.

The third “guest” was a well-muscled, extensively freckled read-headed fourteen-year-old who was not much taller than the other two but they would still be good matches for him. He was with the Black Boys, an Ironic team name as they were all white while the only black player was Nick and he was in the Green Dragons.

“Who’s the copper-top?” asked Tim.

“Oh, that’s Tom Ritchie, we call him by his surname to save confusion,” explained Charlie. He wants into the Black Boys, (Let’s face it: who wouldn’t?) and he’s already been gofer for some games a couple of weeks ago. If he wins this weekend, he gets to join the best team: ours.”

“In your dreams, Charlie.”

“And may I introduce our gofer for the event? This is Will. He wants to join in the games and he’s accepted the conditions.”

As James spoke, the Green Dragons’ eyes shifted from the curly read-head, who had been tied ready for cock-fighting and also gagged with a padded stick, and towards a none too tall, tanned, well built fourteen-year-old with straight, brown shoulder-length hair and a fringe. He was simply sitting against a tree with his wrists bound behind him and it looked as though about five rounds of gaffer tape were holding something into his mouth.

“Morning, Will, good luck,” said Alex who was seldom seen without his souvenir cowboy hat from when he visited America last year.

“Aaah, aay,” muffled the gofer, nodding his return greeting. Will had been allowed to wear his black jammers but nothing else. It was his job to be, without question, the slave of the others until the camp had been dismantled and they were near enough to “civilisation” to be in danger of encountering nosey passers by. He’d already had to carry most of the equipment to the site and he’d hammered stakes that he’d brought into the ground at the direction of the others. Four of them had almost immediately been used to spread-eagle Yuri and one that was left over had been thrust between the knees and elbows of the swim-suited Ritchie. Someone should have told him that green briefs didn’t suit a person with his colouring even if they were square-leg ones.

The company was assembled.


The programme



James took the chair; he tended to be the organiser.

“Right then, three games; each team has choosen one and must have brought anything necessary. Green Dragons.”

Nick, not very tall but a fantastic cross-country runner although built more like a sprinter, was the most level headed – but all things are relative – so the black guy spoke for the team. “Our team today are Tim, Alex and me, Nick. Our contestant is John, if he wins, he gets invited to join our Homebase for his Lower VI before the staff allocate him to another one. Our game involves tickling the players for a long time.”

“No surprises there then. Thanks, Nick. Explain the rules more carefully later, please. Black Boys.”

Lewis spoke for the Black boys. He was a rather non-descript, quiet, very well-spoken rower who had a surprisingly powerful rock voice. “Our team today is Charlie and Ben, the dumb blondes and Lewis, that’s me, the brains of the outfit.” That was sure to be good for some retaliation later. “We propose cock-fights. We’ve prepared Ritchie already. If he wins, he gets to join the Black Boys.”

“Thanks, Lewis. Red Barons, George.” As chairman, James thought that someone else should introduce his team.

“We’re the Red Barons: James, Tommy, and I’m George. Yuri’s going to play for us. If he doesn’t win, someone might get to find out how he’s suddenly doing so well in History.”

Yuri immediately started objecting indecipherably, he’d assumed that, as long a he’d agreed to turn up, he was off the hook.

“Ah, it’s a hard life.” explained George before explaining that his team proposed a bound cross-country competition.

Over the long-established history of the school TUGs club, there had developed various arcane formalities such as this inaugural meeting. Rules had also grown and been formalised over time so that everyone understood and accepted them. Anyone who didn’t, simply needn’t take part, there was no compulsion.

“Which game first?” asked the chairman before proposing that it should be the cock-fights. This was ruled by the meeting to be unfair as poor Ritchie had been scrunched up in that position for over an hour already and should be allowed some recovery time first. After a short discussion, it was decided that Nick should explain how the ticking contest was to work. Following his explanation, the others agreed that it would be a great opening game.



TBC
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Post by Killua »

Great story so far. A little bit hard to keep track of all those names,I'm terrible with names. :lol:
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Post by Veracity »

I’ve already read this story a few times but if feedback is appreciated I’d be happy to provide it! I heartily endorse this story to any and all readers as good fun and a very good way spend your leisure time. And as is to be expected, it’s super hot.
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Post by Xtc »

Thanks [mention]Veracity[/mention] Your support is always appreciated.

Thank you, [mention]Killua[/mention] , I must appreciate what you say. It was easy for me when I had just written the tale because, as usual, the characters were based on youngsters I knew and, in my mind, they came in sets. It was a bit more difficult when it came to editing it this time. Thanks for the feedback.
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Post by Xtc »

Following [mention]Killua[/mention]'s feedback, herewith the Rogues Gallery so far:

Digest (1) for 2021 re-post

Green Dragons
John (The Contestant) athletic figure, straight, straw-like thatch of hair. A bondage-pig in light green camo boxer-briefs
Tim (The Joker) straight, dark hair, slight but quite well-defined
Alex (Cowboy hat) spare frame
Nick (Black) intelligent and athletic.

Red Barons
Yuri (The Contestant) dark-skinned, strongly built, rather round head. Wearing baggy dark-green boxers.
James (The Organiser) mid-brown hair needs a haircut, quite slight
Tommy (The Quiet One) slight, non-descript, none too bright
George (Dapper Man) tall and blonde not a hair out of place.

Black Boys
Ritchie (The Contestant) Tom, stocky, short, strong read-head. Wearing green boxer-brief swimmers.
Charlie quite tall, blonde.
Ben (Blonde Bombshell) intelligent, very blonde, well built.
Lewis (Brainy) straight, mousey hair, specs, very intelligent, well spoken

The Gofer
Will - none too tall, tanned, well-built fourteen-year-old with straight, brown shoulder-length hair and a fringe. Wears black jammers.
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GAMES ON HENSHADE HILL


The First Event


So, the tickling contest was to start while the gofer was instructed to go round the area and collect wood for the evening fire. Will was expecting to have his wrists freed but no one seemed to be in any hurry to untie him. He was about to hint that he’d do a better job if he could see his hands properly but then he remembered the rule about the gofer having to do whatever he was told without question. He then spent a couple of hours collecting fallen and cut wood and attempting to arrange it in piles according to size. He was aware that he was “on approval” and that the TUGs club members would be watching him carefully throughout.

Nick’s rules were as follows:
a) Each contestant would be tied, as near identically as possible, so that he ended up kneeling with his hands above his head and his ankles spread and tied to one of the saplings that had been thinned from the fir plantation about two hundred metres to the south of the summit.
b) Each contestant would be attended by one member from each team. He would be tied by his team-mate and anyone who managed to wriggle free automatically lost. The other two boys would be in charge of the tickling (no artificial aids and “intimate regions” were out of bounds).
c) The last contestant either to surrender or to pee himself was to be the winner (spots didn’t count).

The nature of the games was often somewhat robust but, other than poor Yuri, no one was compelled to take part and everyone would have to take their turn to be the contestant sooner or later.

While Will worked doggedly, the contestants were prepared.

Ritchie had the stake pulled from between his elbows and knees, not without a certain amount of indistinct vocal reaction as he unfurled. He was mostly walked but partly dragged to a nearby tree where his rope-cuffed wrists were drawn upwards towards a fork in a branch that wasn’t too near the trunk of the tree so that access to his vulnerable torso wouldn’t be impeded. Tim and James selected the position and Charlie applied the ropes while Tim and James looked on.

A nearby tree soon accommodated John who was tied by Alex while Tommy and Ben supervised. It was a rather simple job to rope-cuff such a bondage pig as John and to position him ready for torture, but Ben insisted that his rope gag be replaced by the same type of padded stick as the other two contestants would be wearing, “Just to be fair”. A quick application of an axe to one of Will’s finds followed by a rather slower shaving and trimming with a knife and the careful addition of a crepe bandage soon ensured that things would be fair. As with Ritchie, having his ankles spread and tied to the sapling left the soles of John’s feet completely indefensible.

When it came to the Red Barons' contestant, things could have been more difficult until George started talking about his older brother’s great history essays from three years back, before Blatch worked at the school. With a poisonous look, Yuri sighed as best he could and his body language, although limited by his circumstances, gave a clear indication of his submission. There was soon a little, tanned gym monkey in the same predicament as John and Ritchie. Nick and Lewis proclaimed themselves satisfied with George’s work but they thought that Yuri’s expansive boxers would make their legitimate access to his body more difficult in comparison with the boxer briefs and swimming costume of the other contestants. Fairness was obviously called for so Nick gave him a prize-winning wedgie while Ben rolled up the legs of his boxers until Nick was satisfied.

It would, perhaps, have been possible for the contestants to have manoeuvred their feet forwards but it would have been awkward and all their tormentors would have to do was to pull the tree trunk back again. The contestants were ready and Will continued determinedly with his appointed task. It was agreed that the contest would start on James’s count.

“Fingers ready!” The torturers ostentatiously flexed their fingers in front of their victims. Even john could see the ominous digits as (in fairness) his blindfold had been removed. “Three, two, one, go!”

The variety of approaches was apparent immediately. James got Tim to take hold of one end of the spar between Ritchie’s feet while he took the other so that he was left with only his knees in contact with the ground. They then embarked on a brutal attack on his defenceless soles. All Ritchie’s bucking and struggling made it far from easy for the two tormentors to hold on to the improvised spacer bar but they managed to do so without moderating their attack for a good ten minutes before adopting a different strategy.

Ben really wanted John to stay blindfolded so that he wouldn’t be able to see where his and Tommy’s next assault was coming from but the others decided “No” so no it was. Ben took one side of the victim and Tommy took the other and attacked at random until they felt in need of a rest.

Yuri had Nick and Lewis to contend with. They worked as a team and, with their stamina, Yuri was the first to break. At least his sweaty, squealing, snorting torment was temporarily at an end as he struggled to regain his normal breathing. Lewis carried his victorious, fist–pumping partner round the site piggy back as they celebrated their success.

Two contestants left. The look on Ritchie’s face could easily have passed for hatred as Tim and James took their rest whilst teasing him with occasional forays into random parts of his body before mounting a concerted attack on his armpits and all the way down his sides and across his waist. John, meanwhile, had Tommy and Ben working from the soles of his feet right up to the insides of his thighs. That was enough: in between the tears and frantic intakes of breath, he couldn’t hold it in any longer and Tommy had to move his hands out of the way quickly.

So, one game down and the state of the competition was: First place, Ritchie; second place, John; last place, Yuri.


Interlude - The Preparation



The Black Boys were “hosts” for the event and they had to make arrangements to get water and various other items to the site. They, along with Will who had to do the lion’s share of the work, had been portering since very early in the morning. Will’s first task had been to roll a large plastic barrel with a handle attached to the site. He had to do this wearing a heavy back-pack and with his hands bound behind him. The pack contained “equipment” for the games and Will’s own food. Being the gofer, he wasn’t allowed much stuff for his own comfort so there was lots of room in the rucksack for the equipment.

That was OK until they reached the top of the hill before Henshade HiIl itself. Will could have simply allowed the barrel to roll to the bottom of the intervening Gutter Bottom but the barrel would probably not have survived and there was no way of telling which path it would take to the bottom so Will had to act as a brake while the Black Boys downed their loads and took a rest while he did so. Lewis realised that he’d be moving backwards downhill if his hands were still behind him, but in spite of the sport that would have provided, he untied his wrists. Will dutifully turned round and offered his wrists for re-tying in front of him. Lewis didn’t bother.

Following the barrel downhill and pulling back on the handle showed Will’s muscles off a treat not that anyone was looking as he fought his way to the valley bottom. A ninety-litre Waterhog Plus is a very difficult container to control. Leaving the barrel at Gutter Bottom next to the Gutter Stream, Will climbed back to where his task-masters rested and collected his own, very heavy back-pack again.

Now that Will had his hands free, the Black Boys unloaded the tents and stoves from their packs and made him carry them in his arms to the site. Will had not yet been gagged and wondered how he ought to play the next bit. He thought it would be best if he asked for permission to speak first. That was granted and Ben readily agreed that Will would not be able to roll the heavy barrel from Gutter Bottom up to the top of the very steep Henshade Hill on his own. Ben was a rugby player and swimmer, a very blonde boy, quite short but all shoulders and chest. He returned to the barrel with Will and the two boys hauled it through the ford and up to the designated site.

The next task was to prepare the stakes for the arrival of the others. The club hammer was the major contributor to the weight of Will’s rucksack. He wielded it with some alacrity as he arranged the stakes in various formations according to the other boys’ instructions. Even bare-chested as he was, he worked up a considerable sweat as he laboured. Being the contestant, Ritchie was excused hard labour and just sat, gagged and bound in the shade until Lewis decided that he should be prepared for his forthcoming cock-fight.

With his labours (so far) done, his generous task-masters agreed that it was time for Will to take a rest so his hands were simply tied behind him and a wad of gaffer tape was forced into his mouth which was then taped over before he went over to the tree recently vacated by Ritchie while they waited for the others.


TBC

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Post by Killua »

[mention]Xtc[/mention] thanks, that's gonna help remembering who is who in your future parts.
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Post by Killua »

You were to fast posting your new part, so that my other reply originally was meant for the post before.

I like your story. I hope they packed some underwear to change for the poor kid who wet himself :lol:
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I suspect that John is used to "accidents". We shall have to wait and see.
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GAMES ON HENSHADE HILL


The Second Event



Will continued with his labours until James called him over and told him to turn his back while he untied the gofer’s wrists, but he knew better than to move his hands towards his gag if he still wanted membership of the TUGs club. His next task was to remove the contestants’ gags for a while and to give them water. James made it clear to Yuri that he’d better keep his mouth shut or there would be other consequences than just having his gag immediately replaced. After his waiter’s duty, Will reported back to James who re-tied his wrists and told him to continue with his wood-gathering task. A gofer had to show real determination if he was to pass his initiation.

Two of the contestants were left half-hanging, but not gagged while the other boys decided what to do next. They decided to delay eating and to get the shorter of the two games underway. The third contestant seemed almost sad when he had to be untied in order to go and change into another identical pair of camo-patterned boxers. Even the contestants were allowed such items for their comfort.

“OK, cock-fights it is. I reckon Ritchie and John go first.” James had slipped easily back into his role as chairman. The others agreed.

Yuri was left where he was while the Black Boys let their contestant down from the tree branches and freed his ankles. The relief was short-lived, though, as he was made to sit and his knees were forced between his rope-cuffed arms until his hands were close to his insteps. Charlie grabbed a stake and forced it between the contestant’s elbows and his knees. That had previously happened to Ritchie only recently. Alex grabbed another stake while Nick re-tied a newly re-attired john’s wrists prior to Tim’s assisting him into the required posture. Once Alex had forced the stake into place, John was left in one of his favourite tie-up positions. It usually preceded unavoidable ticking situations but, in them, he didn’t have to balance on the balls of his feet as well.

Following the replacement of their padded wooden gags, the contestants were dragged close to one another and helped onto their feet. That’s not a very stable position at the best of times; and these were probably not the best of times. The idea is very simple each “cock” had to try his best to knock his opponent off his feet. Bouts don’t usually last long so the other boys decided that they should fight “first to three”. Ritchie’s weight was probably an advantage as was his comparatively low centre of gravity. He quickly barged John onto his side twice. Obviously, John’s “seconds” hoisted him unceremoniously to his feet between falls. He managed to dodge as Ritchie pushed all his weight to his right causing him to topple and roll onto his face. Lewis checked that the stake was in no danger of slipping out after Ben had hauled the ginger kid to his feet again. If it did so, Ritchie would be disqualified and the rest of his team would have to pay a forfeit for not tying him up well enough.

John hoped that his agility, such as it was in his current state, would get him out of trouble again so he tried to taunt Ritchie into going for him when he thought he was just out of range. Misjudgement! John went flying and his opponent managed to keep his footing.

John was dragged off from the fighting area and given a bit of a hard time by his “friends” about losing to a newcomer. The fact that there had been a considerable mismatch in weight didn’t seem to count for anything with them but John was enjoying himself; they could say what they liked. Ritchie’s seconds removed his gag and gave him water. John’s didn’t.

Ritchie sat, gathering his breath before he was gagged again ready for his next bout, while Yuri was prepared. He was soon gagged and tied up around a transverse stake just like his opponent. These two should be a better match. Yuri was stockier than John but not as tall (when standing) as Ritchie but Ritchie had already played the game against John so was probably not as fresh as his new opponent.

The comical sight of the two “cocks” hopping around trying to size one another up whilst also trying not to lose their balance was as entertaining as the actual encounter as the spectators gave the players the benefit of their opinions. Suddenly there was an engagement and Yuri was sent rolling across the ground.

“Don’t forget the lessons to be learned from history,” George reminded Yuri. This was rapidly followed by an indecipherable one syllable rejoinder that probably rhymed with “runt”. There was a danger of the next encounter extending into a bout of a decent length before the larger boy missed his mark and fell. Charlie hauled him into position again and Yuri charged him, if you can call that undignified form of locomotion a charge, and knocked him off balance.

“Watch it, Duracell, you don’t want to let that little mush beat you. Do you!?” said Lewis with more than a hint of a threat in his voice. Ritchie just looked at him while he tried to regain both his breath and his balance. Meanwhile, Will stuck dutifully to his task only able to catch the occasional glimpse of the contest. He reckoned he’d be good at this game.

Ritchie was planning – in between his gagged snorting as he grabbed laboured breaths. If he could win this contest, it wouldn’t matter what happened in the last one. He’d have passed the test. Yuri was simply desperate not to lose. The hopping around one another and the feints went on for quite some time until the contestants crashed together. There came a moment of stasis before both boys collapsed onto their sides. The Green Dragons, whose man wasn’t involved, voted it as a “no score” and the two dirt-encrusted boys were hauled into the fighting position once more. The next point went easily to Ritchie who tried to give his downed opponent, as near as he could do, a kick in the backside as he lay there. At least Yuri’s wedgie had released itself some time ago.

Yuri tried to rock slightly backwards and forwards just in front of the newcomer in the attempt to make him shy away and, hopefully, overbalance. Tom Ritchie was made of sterner stuff, he approached closer and delivered just enough of a head but to surprise and un-foot his opponent. Have you ever seen a cock crow? Ritchie crowed.

The muscular red-head hopped around as if he was born to it, making unidentifiable victory cries. He was in. He’d done it. He’d won two events out of three.

Yuri simply HAD to win his bout with John but, by now, he was knackered and aching and John had had some time for R & R even if he had been left scrunched up over the stake between his knees and his elbows.

You could tell Alex had visited the States recently. He never seemed to be without his cowboy hat and, while the spectators were taking a drinks break, he told the others about his visit to a Civil War museum. “They tied soldiers up like that for punishment, you know? They called it being “bucked and gagged”. They used to gag them with bayonets, you know?” His eyes gleamed as he looked at John.

Even John wasn’t convinced he’d like to try that variation and thought he’d prefer his current gag. Alex and Tim dragged him over to the fighting area and made sure that he was bound securely while Charlie and Ben carried Ritchie into the shade. Ritchie didn’t enjoy that short journey because his “friends” carried him hanging by his knees from the stake for about fifty metres. Yuri was left lying where he’d where he’d fallen until Tommy and George went to check his bonds and to remind him of the consequences should he not beat John.

Yuri had the weight advantage over the other guy whose normally unruly, dirty-blonde thatch was still sweat-plastered against his head. John knew that he was happier to be there than Yuri but he had something to gain from winning in any of the games. Other than that, he might have made a show of aggression whist offering little real opposition to the desperate Yuri.

Desperation brought unexpected determination from the very depths of Yuri’s bowels and the bouts lasted no time at all. A snorting, grunting Yuri frantically gathered his breath following an easy three-nil victory over the slimmer boy who, even though he had lost, seemed quite content with his situation as he lay recovering.


Interlude – A Bit of Background



Saint Luke’s is an independent boys’ boarding school. It is set in a vast estate consisting not only of farmland, which forms a revenue stream for the school, but also a large area of open country and various woodland plantations, another source of income. The hills aren’t huge and there’s also a fair amount of heathland and lowland bog.

Being an independent school, the boys start as Year 9’s, known a Third Years (don’t ask). That means that the youngest kids are thirteen years old. The oldest “boys” can be eighteen years old or even nineteen if they’ve had to repeat a year.

The school doesn’t normally have lessons on Saturday, except for defaulters, and the boys are encouraged to go home over weekends. If they don’t, they are confined to the school grounds or, but only with permission, within the wider estate. This is an advantage to the TUGs club members. No forestry work is carried out at the weekend and there is no access to the general public. That provides a vast area in which the boys can roam reasonably safely without danger of intrusion from strangers.

The traditions of the club have built up over many years. Once a boy has reached fourteen, he can apply for membership or, more likely, he might be invited to join. In either case he would first have to act as gofer until he could prove that he would be likely to be a useful and loyal member.

The club is divided into various teams, each with a name including a colour. They hold regular formal “games” like those recounted here as well as less formal TUGs activities at almost any time. In the VI Form (from age 16/17) every student has to join a “Homebase”. It is customary for the TUGgers to try to be invited to join one with their own team members. Not all Homebases had TUGgers, of course, so they don’t usually want to be allocated to one of them by the staff.

Initiations and “trials” are just there for the tie-ups really and great care is taken to make sure that no one gets too badly hurt. Looking at the situation realistically, the staff members are probably more aware of the TUGs activities than the boys realise and they certainly keep a surreptitious eye out in case of bullying. However, there is little interference as long as there are no injuries and the participants’ studies are not affected.

It’s an unusual school.



TBC
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Oh, to have been at such a school...
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Post by Xtc »

I believe it is still operating. Perhaps they will offer a "Mature Students'" course.

Thanks for commenting. I was beginning to think this poor thread was being ignored.
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GAMES ON HENSHADE HILL


Time to Eat



By now the boys had undertaken a short hike, planned a programme and played two out of the three scheduled games. The general consensus was that it was time to eat. Will was called over to the spectators and told that his next task would be watched very carefully. It could be a significant chance for him to display his value to the club. Anything to stop collecting wood with his hands bound behind him, he thought.

Charlie untied Will’s wrists and gave him permission to remove his gag, which he did with alacrity – and a certain amount of squealing – before accepting a drink from Ben. Lewis explained that his next task was to “bring the guests to table” as he indicated the strange array of stakes that Will had earlier hammered deep into the ground at forty-five degrees. Three formed an equilateral triangle with their tops angled inwards and three more formed a larger triangle offset from the other one with their tops angled outwards. Previously Will had thought better about asking what they were to be used for. He was about to find out. Not only that, he himself was about to use them.

John was first; never the one to complain. Tim and Nick carried him over, dropped him on the ground again and pulled the stake from its place. Even for such a willing victim as John, it was like pulling the plug out of a barrel and John was soon lying on his back with Nick and Tim drawing his ankles towards two of the stakes in the smaller triangle and Alex holding his cuffed wrists.

Nick explained that Will was to get some rope from his pack and to tie each of John’s ankles to a stake, which would leave him with his ankles split about a metre apart. Having been a Scout since he’d enrolled in the Beavers, Will efficiently cross-lashed each of John’s ankles firmly to a stake. None of the Green Dragons bothered to point out the implications that the way he was tying John’s ankles would have for accommodating the other contestants. John, however, was quite impressed. Alex told Will to untie John’s hands and then to re-tie them behind him. Will couldn’t see why he didn’t just leave his wrists cuffed and tie them to the nearest available stake leaving him stretched out on his back. He politely made the suggestion that that’s what he should do but Tim pointed out that John would need feeding and that Will would find it difficult to feed a boy who could hardly raise his head. Will crossed Jon’s wrists and bound them firmly with another cross-lashing.

“You reckon we’ve got a one-trick pony here?” asked Tim. Will didn’t understand but waited quietly for his next instruction.

He then pulled John’s wrists towards the stake behind him. There was plenty of spare rope between the wrists and the stake where Will tied off the rope but John was certainly pulled up into a sitting position that would make it easier to feed him even if it did cause him considerably more discomfort.

Following an “Ngghh!” as Will pulled the rope tight, John wriggled as much as was possible in his situation, got himself into the most comfortable possible position (All things are relative!) and the others could swear that he was smiling.

Ben and Louis soon brought Will’s next “client” and Tim said, “Ok, Boy Scout,” Will was in no position to correct him so he let it ride, “now what are you going to do? You can’t use those square lashings again. You’ve already used the space on that stake.” as he indicated the stake to which John’s left ankle was closely attached. “Different knots this time, please.”

Will saw what he meant and selected a longer rope while Ritchie sat, uncomplaining, awaiting the inevitable. He knew he’d won enough events to be elected to the club but didn’t want to blot his copy book now. Will soon formed long rope cuffs round Ritchie’s splayed ankles and tied them with half blood knots before pulling the ginger kid across the ground a bit to loop the connecting ropes over both the stake holding John’s left ankle in place and the remaining one. He inspected his work and, moving behind Ritchie and hugging him under the armpits, pulled him backwards so that his legs were straight leaving his ankles about twenty centimetres from the stakes. That slightly relieved the stress on the victim’s legs caused by sitting in such a wide splits position. A still uncomplaining Ritchie soon found his wrist cuffs removed and voluntarily crossed his wrists behind him.

“Remember, different knots this time.” said Tim. Will tried not to give him a “look”. Ritchie was stocky, wide shouldered and deep chested. He was very fast over the hundred- and two-hundred metre sprints and there was no way Will could tie his wrists in parallel but, with a prisoner who couldn’t really resist, he came up with a plan. Ritchie was made to prop himself up with his arms straight and his hands positioned about thirty centimetres apart. The resultant cuffs impressed the other boys noticeably. Even after the longest rope had been wound all the way from Ritchie’s left wrist to his right one, there was plenty left to pull his arms backwards, to wrap once round the stake and return to Ritchie’s left wrist to be tied off. Will was sorry there wasn’t enough left to make a final securing knot round the stake and out of the reach of Ritchie’s fingers.

Will knew that he’d had it good so far but was worried that Yuri was likely to be less co-operative than his previous subjects. He wondered what George was saying, quietly, to him just before Tommy gave him another substantial wedgie. All he heard of the one-sided conversation was, “Got it?” and Yuri’s squeal that preceded the staccato nodding of his head. At least the way James and Tommy dragged him to the stakes alleviated Yuri’s wedgie almost to the point of rendering him naked.

“I think you’d better wear different undies next time, mate.” goaded Tim. Yuri didn’t like the implications of “next time” as James dragged the, by now far from clean, green boxers back under his bum to, more or less, where they should be.

“Different knots, remember.” and Will set to work. He wrapped several rounds of rope round Yuri’s left ankle, secured it with the inevitable half blood knot but Will thought he’d get away with it because the cuffing would be different. He then wound the rope twice round the stake securing John’s right ankle, passed it across to the stake near Ritchie’s left ankle, wrapped it round twice as well before tying Yuri’s right ankle similarly to the way he’d just secured his left one. Will knew that friction between the rope and the stakes would make it difficult, but not impossible for Yuri to even up the tensions once he’d completed his task. So far George had been stretching Yuri’s arms thus depriving him of the opportunity to make himself more comfortable but Will wondered what would happen when the powerfully muscled little guy’s arms had been freed. As Will untied his wrists, George leaned forwards to speak to Yuri once more. This time Will heard what was said but there wasn’t really much surprise there as Yuri looked daggers at George and the rest of his team and resentfully brought his arms behind him as he pushed himself up on them.

Will thought he’d stand at least a chance of binding Yuri’s wrists so that his hands were palm to palm wile George held his shoulders. Five rounds of rope were wrapped round Yuri’s wrists and tied off between them. Will was obviously no novice to this skill as he evened up the tension in the ropes to minimise the pain for his victim. Will then drew the rope up behind Yuri and bound it round above his elbows, drawing them closer together. That was impressive, so was the way Will used the rest of the rope. He fed it under Yuri’s right armpit, across the back of his neck, under his left armpit and back down to his elbows for a final couple of knots. Once Yuri’s wrists had been tethered to the stake behind him, that rope should be going nowhere! At least Will didn’t draw him tight enough to raise his heels from the ground.

The diners had been brought to table. Now it was time to cook.

Each team had brought two Trangia stoves which were set up and food appeared from the boys’ packs. Will had seldom been more happy to eat dehydrated rations because he’d had to carry all the Black Boys’ food as well as his own and they didn’t believe in starving themselves. The thought of carrying the equivalent tins made Will shudder. The spectators boiled water and poured it into the opened packs and waited for the rehydration to happen while Will had been given two of the stoves and the contestants’ food to prepare.

Most people had a leisurely meal: main course, pudding and a bevy while the contestants had a less leisurely one as Will fed them with a “spoon, British racing pattern”. None of them ended up wearing much of his dinner. They were also allowed a bevy afterwards, once more served by Will before he was made to replace their gags. Being a contestant could be a demanding role.

At least with the food being eaten from the original pouches there was no washing up other than mugs, which were simply ignored, and spoons for which a quick final lick was considered to suffice.

“See if any of them needs a piss,” ordered Lewis, indicating the contestants. Will asked; no takers. He was somewhat relieved. He reported the situation to Lewis who suggested that he go for one himself. Will accepted the offer because he knew there was a good chance that he’d be tied up again before the next game.



TBC

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GAMES ON HENSHADE HILL


The Final Event



Following a post prandial rest for belching, scratching their arses, sunbathing, scratching their bellies, going for a wee, etc the spectators decided that the entertainment should recommence. There was still plenty of light at that time of year and by now most boys were bare-chested enjoying the late afternoon sun, except Will who had been bound hand and foot and left in the shade of the trees with a bandage round his eyes.

The teams got to bind their own contestants in the agreed manner. Obviously the usual penalties would apply if any contestant’s exertion caused him to become free. Each contestant was freed from the triangles of stakes. After that, the usual rules applied for cross-country. They were bound tightly at the ankles and below their knees and Will’s binding of their arms was undone bringing especial relief to Yuri. After that, the contestants had their wrists bound fairly simply behind them. There then followed some discussion about whether, in the light of John’s flexibility, they should have their arms bound as well. John nodded enthusiastically but Yuri and Ritchie made desperate attempts to reassure the others that such an action would not be necessary. The others were convinced, the contestants needed a certain range of movement for the forthcoming event.

Gags were checked and the contestants were lined up on the top of Henshade Hill. The course was a simple one: down the hill, through the ford, up the other side of the valley, round the obvious holly clump and back. Easy! IF you’re not tied up.

After the shout, “Go!” the two more experienced contestants soon got down on the ground and started shoving themselves across the flat hilltop on their backs. The greensand made the going good on the flat. Seeing himself being left behind, Ritchie quickly followed suit. Once the hill started falling away, rolling was the preferred mode of locomotion, which was just as well because the soft sand gave way to pebbles of ironstone and other minerals. As the ground levelled-off towards the ford, decisions had to be made. Wriggling on the back seemed to be the best idea. By now, Ritchie was well behind the other two as they approached the ford. Fortunately, Gutter Stream is very shallow and not as “muddy” as some of the fords where cattle like to desport themselves. It was relatively easy for the racers to keep their heads above water while pushing against the large rounded stones on the riverbed but climbing up the far bank wasn’t exactly the easiest of manoeuvres.

Yuri came out of the ford first and made quick (in context) progress across the flat valley bottom with his shorts plastered against his body in what, if an outsider saw him, would be a most embarrassing fashion. By the time John climbed up on the far bank, Ritchie had not even reached the stream. John had made no headway towards overtaking Yuri by the time the leader had started rounding the holly clump. At least the ground was soft again. Yuri rolled onto his front so that he could see where his competitors were. Ritchie was only about half way up the hill and John was about a hundred metres back. The two more experienced boys were in no danger from the newcomer who was still pushing with his feet, elbows and even his shoulders as he struggled and snorted his way up the coarse turf beside the obvious path.

Following his reconnoitre, Yuri started rolling back down hill while John got himself somewhat stuck in some rather scratchy heather whilst trying to cut a corner. The progress of the chase was being observed carefully through binoculars all the while the contestants were over a kilometre away. Just as Ritchie came to within reach of the hilltop, John’s gamble paid off and he rolled quickly on a direct route to the ford almost crashing into Yuri on the way. Both boys entered the stream together just as Ritchie started downhill again. It was probably the longest twelve hundred metres he’d ever had to negotiate. John climbed out onto the bank just before Yuri and allowed himself the luxury of a few seconds’ break while he waited until Yuri hauled himself into range of his bound legs. A friendly shove pushed the deeply tanned boy back into the shallow stream where he got a mouthful and a noseful of the peaty water as he flailed around trying to regain his equilibrium. John couldn’t afford to stay around for long enough to enjoy the spattering spectacle and made good his escape. The few seconds wait paid off for John and his treachery cost Yuri a good sixty seconds which he couldn’t make up. Ritchie was still about a hundred metres in arrears when Yuri managed to get out of the stream and he took an unfortunate path through the ford. At least he was properly dressed for swimming. He was in no danger and quickly got himself sorted out and eventually climbed out of the stream.

John won easily and it was just as well for him that Yuri was still tied up as he tried to tell his victor what would happen to him one dark night.

“Now, now, children, play nicely,” and both boys were dragged over to the trees near Will and propped up to await Ritchie’s arrival. It was over five minutes later when he dragged himself across the scratch in the sand and he was taken to join the others. Yuri was still trying to explain to John what he thought of his mother while the spectators got into their judgely huddle to clarify the results of the games.


The Jury Decides



Will was untied and told to build a fire and to get it going while they made their decisions. Will was good at that and he soon had a good blaze going and the wood arranged more sensibly than he could previously have done with his wrists bound. “Oh, and get the tents up.”

Obviously Ritchie was the outright winner over the three games. That pleased Charlie, Ben and Lewis because, as the winning team, the Black Boys would get to tie up the losers and were highly unlikely to be tied themselves at the event. Yuri was equally obviously the loser, without a victory to his name; that meant that the Red Barons: James, Tommy and George would obviously get tied up so they went over to their rucksacks to get ready. The Green Dragons, not being the losers, could relax and they probably wouldn’t be tied up but, other than Will, perhaps, they’d have no one to tie up either.

The result was clear, now what should happen to the winner and losers? There was some discussion concerning this and, obviously, the Red Barons didn’t get a say.

By the time the Green Dragons and the Black Boys had come to their decisions, Will, having got the fire going, had already set about pitching the tents. His scouting experience came in handy here as he’d used that type of lightweight tent before. The two-man “exoskeletons” went up in less than five minutes each even with Will working on his own. He kept checking to see if there would be enough room for him. There didn’t seem to be enough of them. Nevertheless, carry on.

The Red Barons put most of their clothes in their rucksacks and reported to the others to listen to the “rewards” and “sentences” and to pay their forfeits. The Green Dragons and the Black Boys were seated in a semi-circle. It being a fine early evening, only Charlie and Lewis had their tops on, the others were still enjoying the sun. It probably goes without saying that the Red Barons didn’t have their shirts on either – or their trousers – or any footwear.

The Red Barons submitted themselves to the “court”; they knelt, with their backs to the fire, waiting to learn their fates. With no James on the “jury”, Lewis took the chair. “Gentlemen this ‘Court of TUGs’ has reached its decisions. They affect you three and the contestants. Go and get one each and set them before us.”

The three boys rose and went over to the stand of trees. James was dressed in just an old pair of white traditional running shorts, the rather short, loose type with integral briefs. The school insists upon them for athletics lessons and the old pair James was wearing had become rather too tight but at least they were within the TUGs club rules. James wasn’t the most athletic of boys but he easily stood Yuri up, slung him over his right shoulder and deposited him in front of the court on his knees. Even if he didn’t want to be there, Yuri knew the rules, their breach would ensure social death back at school, certainly among his mates and probably within the wider community as well.

Tommy was a slight boy, a nice kid but none too gifted academically. He probably wouldn’t be staying on for the VI form but the TUGs club had probably been his favourite aspect of the school for the past three years. He was currently parading his skinniness in a rather short pair of dark patterned boxer-briefs. He picked the smallest boy, John, to carry over to the others.

The tall, very blonde babe-magnet that was George looked as smooth as ever even though he’d changed into just a clean pair of light blue boxers. That kid couldn’t look bad wearing a potato sack. It was a god job that he was quite strong because he was left with the substantial figure of Ritchie to lug across to the court. The red-head soon joined the other two kneeling in front of their judges.

Lewis noticed that Will had finished his task and called him over to kneel with the contestants. At least he wasn’t tied up like they were so he was told to cross his arms behind him while he waited. “Now you lot. On your knees too.” Judge Lewis instructed the Red Barons.

The jury was ready to sentence the defendants who didn’t get the chance to put their cases. This was a hanging jury!



TBC

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Post by blackbound »

Irrelevant to the story as such, but I admire how you get so much plot/action across with so few words. Others might need 10 chapters to cover what you do in one; the reader (or at least I) never gets bored.
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Post by bondagefreak »

blackbound wrote: 3 years ago Irrelevant to the story as such, but I admire how you get so much plot/action across with so few words. Others might need 10 chapters to cover what you do in one.
This is one of the abilities I've consistently failed to master, but I agree it can be quite enjoyable when done right (as is the case here).
[mention]Bondwriter[/mention] also shares this ability as did BarefootEthan and [mention]squirrel[/mention] in most of his pre-2020 works.

Thanks for keeping us entertained [mention]Xtc[/mention]!
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Post by Xtc »

Thanks for that, [mention]blackbound[/mention] and [mention]bondagefreak[/mention].
I appreciate it especially as I believe prolixity to be a failure of mine. I am also gratified that it doesn't seem that my writing does not come over simply a list of who did what, to whom and with what.
Thanks, gentlemen.
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Post by Xtc »

GAMES ON HENSHADE HILL


Sentences Pronounced


“Ritchie,” announced Louis, “as the undoubted winner of the games and, having already served your time as gofer, you get to join the best team, ours! But, as you’re only a novice, you have to stay in that swimming costume for the rest of the event. Gofer.”

“Yes, Sir?”

“Crawl over to him on your knees, unfold your arms and untie him.” Will moved the couple of metres and untied Ritchie’s arms and stayed on his knees while the victor of the games pulled the stick with its soggy bandage bindings from his mouth and turned the knot round to the front of him so that he could detach it completely. Once Will had untied his ankles he adopted the arms folded position again ready for his next task. He knew that, as long as he had something to do, not only would he be less likely to be bound (which he didn’t mind) and blindfolded (of which he was less fond) but the others would be able to see his determination to become a member of the club.

Nick took over the judge’s role. “John, you only won one event.” John’s head drooped and his shoulders sagged, “but we want you as part of our Homebase next year. John straightened up and I think the cry would have been something like, “Yeeaaay” if it hadn’t been modified by the gag. He would have jumped for joy if he hadn’t been bound the way he was. “And because you only won one event and cheated in order to do that, and just so that you can get used to next year’s conditions, you’re staying tied up tonight.” Things had just gone from superb to even better. “It’s alright, there’s no need to thank us.”

After untying John and allowing him to take a dump in private, Ritchie and Will were dispatched to the stakes that had previously accommodated Yuri where they staked him out and replaced the padded stick with a nylon stocking over his thatch of hair and a substantial amount of gaffer tape round his head at eye level, over his mouth, and between his chin and the top of his head. They didn’t think they’d need to bother about packing his mouth first.

“No supper for you tonight, boy.” said Ritchie, patting his cheek. John thought it was fortunate that he’d been given water before they pulled the stocking over his head. By the time Ritchie and Will had finished, the court had already sentenced the last contestant and the judge and jury were taking a break just to make it worse for the Red Barons. This time Ritchie took his place in the jury but Will still had to kneel with the defendants.

During John’s staking out, Yuri had been sentenced. It was Ben’s turn in the chair. Yuri had it put to him: his choice. He had lost the games for his team who were kneeling behind him awaiting their own fates. Therefore, either he would have to be the contestant in the next formal games or a certain history teacher might suddenly become more observant than Yuri had expected. He was also reminded that the Red Barons might not recommend him to their older team members for the Homebase next year. That was a bluff, they wouldn’t have been that heartless but, when Yuri turned around, he could see the waiting members of the losing team twisting their lips into humourless smiles and slowly nodding their heads. He couldn’t see them smiling for real once he had faced Ben again.

Yuri had his gag removed and was asked to choose. He was then untied by his team-mates and told that he was free to go or he could just go and make himself comfortable for the night and report back to the court.

Yuri chose.

Following a drink of water he was taken to the triangles and stretched between three of the stakes by the Red barons and blindfolded and gagged like John. Instead of being forced into a sitting position this time his ankles were spread and his hands tied in front of him before he was laid out in a “Y” shape for the night.

Will was told that the fire had better stay in so that the prisoners didn’t get cold. He went to collect more wood. Now that his hands were free, he could bring some of the small Douglas firs that had been thinned form the nearby plantation. They always give a satisfying blaze. Mix that with some fallen branches from the stand of ancient Beeches on the other side of the hill and you’ve got the best of both worlds.

That just left the losing team to sentence. The Green Dragons got the bevies on for supper while the Black Boys took one each and started tying their hands behind them and their ankles together. With both Tommy and George being on the sender side, it was decided to tie their elbows as well. The bound lads were then zipped into their sleeping bags and were going to be left outside for the night. In the meantime they made convenient seats for the other boys as Nick’s team served up the hot chocolate. Even Will got some but he wasn’t allowed to sit on the Red Barons.

The Red Barons weren’t going to suffer too badly overnight when the temperature would drop like a stone because there was no cloud cover and it wasn’t going to rain. They could always roll towards or away from the fire as it suited them but they had been warned that, if they said anything at all, they would be gagged like the contestants had been earlier.

Will and the jurors enjoyed their drinks along with an astounding quantity of ginger cake and an enormous number of biscuits. They spent the next hour or so discussing various things including the options open to the losers in the morning. None of the options sounded too attractive to the furniture as the other kids wriggled ostentatiously to get themselves comfortable.

By the time anyone felt like retiring for the night, the jury had sentenced their last prisoner. Or had they? It was one of those moments in conversation when everyone seemed to get the same thought at the same time. Just as Will was forcing his third lump of cake down, he was aware that the others were looking at him. He stopped with his mouth open and the cake poised.

“What is it?” Other than to say, “Thank you.” at the appropriate times, that was the first time Will had spoken without permission.

“I told you he would.” rejoiced Tim. “That’s a quid you owe me, Alex.” The spare-framed kid in the cowboy hat handed over the money from their bet. “Thanks, Will. I owe you one.”

Will thought he’d blown it in some way especially when he was told to throw his cake away and kneel in front of the jury. He couldn’t have known what they had decided while he was collecting the fir tree trunks.

“Gofer William,” intoned Lewis as Will folded his arms behind him, “You have applied for membership of the St. Luke’s School TUGs club. Well, I am pleased to tell you that, as long as you perform satisfactorily in tomorrow’s events, you’re in. Don’t get up. You’re still the gofer until sometime tomorrow. Go for a piss, it’s time to go to bed.”

Will headed for some cover and did what he needed to do. Normally a successful gofer would get to share a tent with the host team. A less successful one would just be gagged and staked out for the night. Unfortunately, Ritchie was going to be occupying the spare space in Charlie’s tent so it looked as though Will was out of luck. Once he returned and knelt in front of the jury, Nick invited him to share his tent. Will asked whether he would be tied up.

“Just your wrists.” replied Nick who produced some rope and did the honours. “Be careful. If you’re not still tied up in the morning, you’d better start running.”

“Thank you. Thanks, lads. I won’t let you down.”


Bed Time



Following a bit more desultory conversation in which Will was included, the boys reckoned that it was really time to retire and made for their tents. Tim and Alex headed for their tent and Nick helped Will to his feet and helped him wriggle into his sleeping bag, the one with no carry-mat beneath it, before getting into his own. Charlie and Ritchie took another tent and Ben and Lewis took another. There was still one to spare but Will had been right about there not being enough tents for everyone. Now he knew why.

Long before sunup, Nick and Ben had had enough of sweating in their tents and had taken their sleeping bags and bags of clothing to use as pillows and slept out in just their unzipped sleeping bags. The sight of the very blonde Ben’s shoulders peeping out from his sleeping bag contrasted markedly with those of the very dark-skinned Nick lying alongside him. The Red Barons would have liked to have been able to unzip their sleeping bags too but they considered it unwise to disturb the rugby player or the distance runner all the while they were bound and defenceless.


TBC
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Post by Carnath »

Always like such stories of rival groups of boys playing tugs :)
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And I always treasure such reassurances. Thank you.
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GAMES ON HENSHADE HILL


Early Morning Calls


Gradually all the unfettered boys woke up to answer calls of nature or just because they were ready to do so. Other than to check to see that John and Yuri were alright, no notice was taken of the tied boys at all.

Nick and Ben got up, Nick in his white boxer briefs and Ben in bright red satin boxers, after an early morning scratch, Nick pulled on his navy-blue football shorts but Ben preferred his rather shorter white rugby shorts and they both went for an early morning run. They were joined by Ritchie who was, of course, still dressed in only his tight green square-leg swimming costume. The sand felt good under their feet.

Tim and Alex were next up. They didn’t seem to have undressed any further than they had the previous afternoon except for having removed their shoes so they were to be found yawning and stretching, bare-chested and in their socked feet. Both were wearing shell bottoms.

Next up and about were Charlie, another tall blonde boy, casually easing his boxers from his arse-crack and Lewis, who was the only one still wearing a top. He’d slept the night dressed and on top of his sleeping bag but inside the tent because he really hated the biting insects that abounded. He’d given up on his contact lenses and was rubbing his glasses on his top.

After a few minutes even Alex and Tim had removed their socks and all the unbound boys were enjoying the early morning feel of sand and cool grass under their feet. Meanwhile Will wriggled out of his tent shedding his open sleeping bag on the way and struggled to his feet. As soon as Lewis noticed that Will was up and about, he untied him and told him to let the Red barons out of their sleeping bags and see if they needed to visit the bracken. All of them did and Will hopped them in turn a decent distance away and freed their wrists and arms. Before he left James, his first customer, in some privacy, Tim shouted across that his head had better not disappear from sight.

“Suppose I need a crap?”

“Good try! There’s a useful fallen branch over there. Will can take you over and we can still see your head while you hang your arse over it. I’ve already dug a hole”

James gave up and settled for a wee. Tommy and George both seated themselves on the branch where Tim had previously positioned the loo roll in a plastic bag. The users covered up that which needed covering before Will secured their arms and wrists again and the Red Barons were made to bunny-hop back to their sleeping bags. After feeling the fresh air, they didn’t want to be shrouded in sweaty sleeping bags again but rules is rules and they ended up lying head to tail, close up against one another like pilchards in a can.

Permission was given to remove the blindfolds from the staked out former contestants but Will wondered how far he was supposed to go with that. Should he remove the gags as well? He decided that, as breakfast was about to be taken, he should do so. John simply said, “Thank you” as the stocking and tape was pulled from his head and he settled into his ropes once more. With Yuri, it wasn’t such a good idea. He started noisily demanding a toilet break and Will hurriedly hand gagged him before anyone could blame him for the outburst. Tim suggested that one of the discarded padded stick gags from yesterday be used and that Will needn’t be too fussy about which one. Ritchie helped. He found a roll of gaffer tape and took the least sand-encrusted gag over to Yuri and handed it to Will who presented it to his face.

Yuri tried resisting. You’d think he would have known better as Will straddled his still stretched out body and Ritchie gave him just a little slap in the balls. “Alright, alright, I give!” came the gasped response as Yuri decided to comply. Will gave a token wipe of the gag on his black jammers and pushed it into Yuri’s reluctant mouth while Ritchie raised Yuri’s head so that Will could tape it into place.

By the time Will had tied Yuri’s ankles and knees and escorted him to the bracken, the frying pans were hot and the bacon and sausage baps were well underway. Once he had got his charge back to site, Will decided that his best option was to pass the tether, that was still attached to Yuri’s wrists, between his legs, to pull tight and fasten it round his neck. The boys, who were surreptitiously observing Will’s actions and monitoring his decisions, noted with approval the non-slip knot that left enough safe space round Yuri’s neck but would still keep him secure and unable to slip either of his legs between the rope and his arms without someone noticing. Once he had been laid alongside the other pilchards, Yuri took the opportunity to disentangle the rope from his most sensitive parts.

Just John to go and everybody realised that he’d be no trouble. Will didn’t even bother to do anything more than to tie his wrists in front of him once he’d found out that he only needed to pee but he did leave the other ropes trailing from his limbs. Having found relief, John returned and found himself tied like Yuri and lying with the other pilchards. With his boxer-briefs it was easy for Will to avoid ensnaring his parts and pinching them as he had done with Yuri.


Breakfast Table Talk



The early morning joggers returned to site just as Charlie, Alex and Lewis, who had been in charge of frying the sausages and bacon, called the others to breakfast. Alex, who always looked as though his skin was too tight because he didn’t seem to carry a spare ounce of fat, would have been better advised to have put his top on rather than his ubiquitous cowboy hat before starting the frying, and the brown spots where the fat had spattered his arms and torso were still quite prominent on his spare, athletic frame.

Will was allowed to take his breakfast with the others but he wasn’t going to get a vote in the decisions concerning the fates of the Red Barons, Yuri and John. By the time the Green Dragons, the Black Boys and Will had eaten, and drunk their early morning brew, the prisoners’ fates were sealed. Will had assumed that he would have to hand feed the bound boys but the others decided that it would take too long and that it would be better if they all lent a hand. James, Tommy and George were made to sit up in their sleeping bags while Tim, Nick and Ben fed them and made sure that they had water to drink. George risked begging to be released from his sleeping bag but was met with Tim’s, “What, before the maggot racing?” question. At least now they knew what lay ahead of them.

John and Yuri were manhandled until they were seated back-to-back so that they propped one another up and Will could more easily feed John. Yuri assumed that he was going to be left to go hungry. Will asked about feeding him and Lewis said that, as long as he promised to remain silent, then he could be fed. Will asked and Yuri nodded his assent.

Breakfast over and bags more or less packed, it was time for entertainment. The boys who had fed them breakfast prepared the Red Barons for their forthcoming ordeal while Will was told to strike and pack the tents.


The Maggot Race



Sleeping bags were unzipped and the occupants’ ankles and knees were untied before zips were fastened once more prior to the losing team being hauled to their feet. It was customary for the losing team to stay bound until the last knockings but it was also customary to give one of them the chance of release even though, like Ritchie, he wouldn’t be allowed to dress again.

The maggots were lined up along a scratch in the sand for their race. They needed to go downhill and touch the small holly tree beside the path and then return to pass the scratch again. The total distance was only about a hundred metres but a hundred metres zipped into a sleeping bag with one’s arms bound is plenty far enough.

The first leg was fairly uneventful and no one tripped over or barged into anyone else. Tommy, the smallest racer had relatively more room in his sleeping bag than the others and he reached the holy tree and touched it with his shoulder well before James did, and the taller George was a long way behind the other two. Tommy started back uphill, passed James and, eventually, George. George knew he needed a miracle if he was not to lose and considered trying to knock Tommy over but missed his opportunity. James started back uphill and George tried to barge him but missed and staggered the few metres into the holly tree before falling over to the cheers of the spectators. James eventually followed Tommy across the scratch and George was left to struggle uphill on his belly or his back as best he could. By the time he had returned, James and Tommy had been helped out of their sleeping bags so that Will could pack them.

George expected to be let out as well but found out that there was to be a penalty for losing and, once his ankles had been bound again, the mummy-style bag was zipped up and the drawstring in the hood was drawn tightly enough to leave only George’s eyes and nose showing. He was then left on the ground and basically ignored as he rolled around pleading to be released. As the winner, Tommy was free to walk around wearing just his underpants for the rest of the venture. Even at that time of the morning, that wasn’t an unpleasant feeling compared to the sweaty confines of his sleeping bag. James found his ankles and knees bound again and he was put into a loose hogtie and propped up against a small tree.



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

A small what? O cruel cliffhanger! ;)

I get the feeling these boys will grow up to be fantastic project managers, getting the most productivity out of limited time humanly possible.
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Post by Xtc »

Last time I saw Lewis, he'd given up work on his maths degree in favour of rowing. So much for Oxford!
He'll still make it though; a true auto-didact.
They all say boxer shorts are cool,
but little Speedos always rule.
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Post by Xtc »

Bum! Even after the hint, I didn't realise I had missed the "tree" off the end.
Done it now, sorry [mention]blackbound[/mention].
I shall get around to posting the next part now.
They all say boxer shorts are cool,
but little Speedos always rule.
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