THE CHAMPIONS (3 X m/m)

[Xtc]

THE CHAMPIONS

Introduction

We have met some of the characters in this tale before:
Aiden is one of the Warbands lads who normally gets to victimise his little brother, Matt. He is a scout but not the troops involved in the on-going feud.
Jamie is the SPL of the Scouts (Land Farmers).
Scott is a member of Jamie's troop. He is suspiciously fond of being tied up. Usually has his brother, Luke, to victimise - not that he seems to mind much!
George is Scott's best friend and is surprisingly well organised - but not well enough to keep him out of trouble.

This will be quite a long story so I would appreciate the odd reassurance that at least someone is reading it.

OK, here goes

[Xtc]

THE CHAMPIONS 1


Getting There

He would have had difficulty keeping up with Jamie even under normal conditions but he had no chance like this. Jamie carried just his day pack while James had a heavily laden 80-litre rucksack strapped to his fourteen-year-old frame. Not only that but other than his walking shoes and socks he was wearing only his loose-knit, white cotton boxers and Jamie had trussed his hands securely behind him with rope before threading the straps of the rucksack into place. In retrospect James thought that it hadn’t been a good idea to remind Jamie what he thought of him just before they set off from the Scouts' Cottage that night; if he hadn’t, he probably wouldn’t be chomping on that length of willow as he struggled to keep up.

On the Estate, there was very little chance of anybody encountering them on their trek, especially at that time of night and, if they did, they would probably only make Jamie let his prisoner go and James would still have to pay his debt later. Eventually the two boys reached the place where the derelict canal crossed the river where the others were already waiting.

James had lost a bet with Jamie and there was no love lost between the muscular, brown-haired Scout and his blonde-haired prisoner who was now paying his forfeit. James wasn’t a muscular boy but he was a fairly sturdy footballer with deep blue eyes, a mop of wavy blonde hair and a clear, fresh face that you’d have thought all the girls would fancy. They probably would if it wasn’t attached to such a selfish, immature waster.

The Opposition

Harry was a skinny kid, a hockey player with large eyes, a mischievous smile and an ever-open mouth. - Usually. That, however, had been dealt with before Aiden and he arrived. Following some banter, he’d made the mistake of saying, “Alright then, if you beat me in this year’s History exam, I have to do whatever you say for a whole weekend, if not, then you have to do the same for me.” Aiden was capable of considerable academic diligence when there was an incentive and now Harry had to live up to his word. That’s the way it was at their school.

It made a change for Aiden to have a “volunteer” other than his little brother, Matt, to victimise and he could always keep the surprise he had in store for him for a future occasion. The two boys were both Scouts from different troops and that gave Aiden even more cause to want to avenge the insults that Harry would routinely heap upon anyone who was not a Sea Scout. Harry seemed to have been treated in a similar way to James except that he’d been allowed to wear his jockstrap under his hockey shorts and his mouth had been wrapped with several layers of gaffer tape to remind him to “can it”. He took Aiden’s threat about stuffing a slit tennis ball in his mouth if he managed to work the tape loose seriously and had done his best not to wiggle his jaw too much.

James saw him sitting on the ground with his ankles crossed and strapped together. That was to be one of his competitors. The other was sitting alongside him with a fearsome looking red ball sitting behind his teeth.

Well, what can I say? Scott is just Scott. He’d heard about the competition between Aiden and Jamie and asked to be included. He’d persuaded George to take him as his Champion (He turned down his little brother, Luke’s, offer to take him; even he’s not THAT stupid.) to take part in the contest, strapped his favourite ball gag into place and surrendered himself to his best friend. George wasn’t too sure initially because he knew that Scott enjoyed being bound and thought that he might not try too hard to win the contests. Scott promised that he would do his best because he wouldn’t want George to have to pay any forfeits because of him. He was sitting beside Harry and happy as Larry in just his black Calvin Kleins.

James now knew who his competition was to be as he had his rucksack removed and was forced to sit next to Harry before his ankles were strapped in a similar way. Once he’d stopped the physical exertions, James started to feel the cold but, as Aiden and George had already started the camp fire, it wasn’t too bad.

The extensive Estate was private and there was little chance of the boys’ activities being disturbed in spite of the fact that the curve in the river contained the battered remains of the keep of King Stephen’s Castle. It was a mere shell but it provided shelter from the wind and added a sort of spooky presence to the place. The canal held water at that location but it was not frequented by narrow-boaters and, with the Estate being private, nobody used the tow-path. It was an almost ideal setting for the boys’ nefarious activities.


Here is a sketch-map of the site:

Housekeeping

The stoves were soon recovered from the rucksacks that the Champions had carried to the site and the inevitable pasta and sauce cuisine was soon under way. Carry mats were laid out and sleeping bags encouraged to loft but, being a fine summer night, nobody bothered with the tents that the Champions had been forced to carry. Such cooking is notoriously quick and the food was ready almost before the bedding had been arranged. George untied Scott’s wrists and Scott removed the red ball from his mouth and started to massage his wrists. George didn’t bother to padlock the strap round his mate’s ankles but James was not so lucky before Jamie freed his wrists. Harry couldn’t resist taking the piss so Aiden padlocked his ankles as well.

Supper proceeded in the bizarre setting where three of the six boys, all of whom were now bare-footed, had their ankles strapped together in a way that prevented them from standing up while the conversation flowed just as you’d expect between a group of friends. James seemed to be the odd one out; he couldn’t seem to accept his situation unlike the stoical motor-mouth that was Harry and the bondage pig that was Scott. Hot drinks were drunk and the inevitable “Lyons” ginger cakes were dipped into gourmet “Birds” custard and shoved determinedly down greedy throats. It would have been a waste of squirty cream.

By now it was well gone midnight and the prisoners had a busy day in front of them so it was decided to turn in.

George gave Scott permission to remove his ankle strap and pointed out where he had previously dug a hole for personal requirements by a low-hanging branch. Scott found it and the loo-roll in the plastic bag nearby. He made himself comfortable and reported back to his captor. Before you ask; yes, Aiden had dumped a large aqua-roll full of water on the site earlier in the day but, let’s face it, only dirty people wash, especially on camp. George wrapped the strap twice round Scott’s parallel shins and this time he DID padlock it in place. He helped Scott to wriggle into his sleeping bag while Aiden released Harry so that he could attend to his personal needs. His word was his bond and, after he’d had a couple of minutes to massage his ankles, he surrendered to Aiden and asked if he wasn’t going to bind his wrists as well. Aiden said that it probably wouldn’t be necessary and helped his prisoner to bed.

James was waiting, somewhat impatiently for his turn but Jamie seemed to be in no hurry to unlock him.

“How do I know that you won’t escape?”

“You bastards would spread the word that I welch on my bets.”

“I think that sort of language requires punishment, don’t you lads?” Even the other two prisoners thought that it did.

“Oh, come on, you can’t leave me like this.”

“I don’t see why not.”

“I can’t even stand up.”

“Fair enough. Ask nicely.”

James asked as nicely as he was prepared to and Jamie graciously granted his petition but not before he’d found a length of light chain and two small padlocks in the rucksack that James had carried to the site.

“Now then, language!” reminded Jamie sternly as he picked up the willow stick that he’d used to gag James on his trek. James took the hint. He didn’t stop to think that Jamie wouldn't want “his” Champion to be at a disadvantage in the morning and really would not want to have to tie him up any more severely than the other competitors. Scott by contrast was rather disappointed that the Champions were not to have their hands bound overnight.

James had his strap unlocked but was made to hobble to the low branch with the chain between his ankles to do his business. When he returned to Jamie, he was rather contrite because he remembered what had been said about punishment but Jamie managed to pretend that he was being magnanimous by allowing him to be secured like the others. However, he didn’t help James into his sleeping bag.

George banked up the fire and it wasn’t long before most boys were asleep. George was the last to drop off and he was being prevented from doing so by Aiden’s snoring. A well-aimed trainer remedied the situation.

TBC

[Ebascoray]

OK---Interesting story, so far, XTC. Continuate. (I know that's not a real word, only a word in my mind.

[Xtc]

Nice to hear from you again, [mention]Ebascoray[/mention].
It shall be continued!

[Veracity]

This is one of my all time favorite of your stories. I hope it gets the love it deserves.

[george_bound]

I have a strong feeling this is going to be fun!

[Xtc]

Thank you, [mention]george_bound[/mention] . I hope so. James might not find it so though.ry.

Thanks, [mention]Veracity[/mention] , I reposted because of a request from another member. I'm just too thick to include the maps properly, sorry.

[blackbound]

This is one of my all time favorite of your stories. I hope it gets the love it deserves.

Ohh, that sounds promising.

[Xtc]

I hope I can live up to your expectations.

[Xtc]

THE CHAMPIONS 2


A Bit of an Explanation

This weekend’s event was a bit out of the usual. The Warbands kids, the Scouts and the Sea Scouts all went to the same school and Jamie and Aiden challenged each other to find a “Champion” to undertake a series of challenges while suffering some sort of handicap. Of course, the one whose Champion lost the contests would have to suffer alongside him afterwards. Aiden immediately targeted Matt against whom he’d managed to get evidence of recent wrong-doings that he certainly wouldn’t want their father to hear about but, when he’d managed to beat Harry in History, he thought he’d just store that up for later. So, the skinny kid was one Champion.

Jamie knew that, once he had lost his bet, James would have no option but to honour his promise but he didn’t think he’d take any chances on his escaping. Besides, the spoilt blond git deserved to be treated like dirt.

So, a few weeks before the event, the Champions had been selected and the contests were discussed at some length. The Champions didn’t get much say in things by that stage. Once Scott got to overhear Jamie and Aiden discussing the event, he decided that he wanted in. In spite of George’s initial reservations (Let’s face it, he didn’t want to have to suffer as a result of any lack of effort on Scott’s part.) he knew that Scott was an accomplished athlete and he eventually agreed to take part. He didn’t know at the time that his mate would soon be training for the England junior volley-ball team. Scott has got used to people ragging him about being the ugliest thing anyone was ever likely to see in a bikini. He doesn’t even bother correcting them. Jamie saw no reason why his brother Scouts shouldn’t take part and, being a reasonable sort of bloke (most of the time), neither did Aiden.

Well, that’s how the boys came to be spending the night in the shelter of the old keep and here’s what happened next.

A Saturday Lie-In

In August the sun rises early. The same can’t be said for the boys in our story. Having got to bed well after midnight, no one shifted until about eight o’clock. James and Harry would have liked to have been a bit more mobile but Scott was still sleeping soundly; he’d even replaced his favourite ball gag. As soon as Jamie’s bladder called him to answer nature’s call, James asked to be allowed to relieve himself as well. Harry saw Jamie’s face and thought better of doing the same.

Jamie, wearing just his black boxer-briefs with the yellow waist-band, scratched himself, picked up the wooden gag that he’d made James wear the previous night and approached his Champion who was making thoroughly inadequate attempts to crawl away from him. Amid a chorus of complaints from George and Aiden about being woken up by all that noise, and even some attempted protests from Scott, Jamie succeeded in gagging his pissed-off Champion once more.

“If you want to go to the little boy’s room, there’s two conditions.” James stopped struggling and listened as Jamie prevented him from undoing the paracord that was holding the stick in his mouth. “First: the chain goes back on. Agreed?” James gave a reluctant cursory nod. “Second: you make any attempt to remove that gag and I’m going to hand you over to Scottie and Harry. I’m sure they’d be pleased to handicap you for the first contest.” The enthusiastic grin on Harry’s face and the animated nodding from Scott persuaded him to agree. He wasn’t yet used enough to his situation to realise that Jamie wouldn’t want his Champion to start at a disadvantage.

Jamie hobbled James with the chain once more and unlocked the strap that had prevented him from escaping last night. He made off rather unsteadily for the low hanging branch. Upon his return, Jamie bound his wrists and forced him to sit and cross his legs ready for the strap to be locked on again before he unlocked the chain.

By now Aiden and George were up and wandering absent-mindedly around the site wearing just their underpants and enjoying the odd early morning scratch and fart. Scott and Harry refused the offers of taking a comfort break and were soon sitting cross legged beside James with their wrists bound. Harry wondered how long he could keep his mouth shut before Aiden realised that he hadn’t been gagged.

Breakfast

“Aiden?”

“Yes, what?”

“Why didn’t you get that little slug of a brother of yours to come and do the cooking? We’re having to do all the work?”

“Sorry, lads, I’ve got plans for him later.”

“That’s it, go on, be selfish.” A grinning Jamie continued preparing breakfast over the newly re-ignited and re-configured camp fire.

It was a lazy start to the day but Jamie’s Scouting skills soon came to the fore and he’d organised George into collecting the fuel for what had now become a cooking fire while he prepared the bacon, sausages and even eggs on two huge, fire-blackened frying pans and a saucepan. (I think readers will appreciate why the eggs were scrambled.) His frequent grin was partly due to the picture of James, laden like the gold prospector’s donkey with the pans hanging from the outside of his pack last night.

James didn’t seem to find it so funny at the time.

George, Aiden and Jamie scoffed their breakfasts in record time and took time to make drinks before feeding their Champions. George took a rather tentative hold on the red ball in Scott’s mouth and removed it gently whilst trying to keep it as far from his palm as possible. Scott thought that he wouldn’t have minded if his friend had just yanked it out by the strap. George fed Scott while Aiden did the same for Harry. It was time for them to take drinks, but only water, before Jamie left the cooking fire to attend to James.

“Want breakfast?” James nodded. “Going to keep quiet?” James glared. But he did nod. Jamie cut the paracord that was digging into the blonde boy’s cheeks and neck.

Warming Up

Once he’d been fed, Scott asked George if he could go for a run. George didn’t see any reason why not because, after all, Scott was a volunteer and completely unlikely to stage an escape attempt so he released his mate’s ankles and was starting to untie his wrists when James asked Jamie if he could go for a run as well.

“Sure.” Jamie grinned. “Chain them together, someone.” James’s shoulders sank and Harry was glad that he hadn’t asked to go for a run as well. “Oh, and I don’t want YOU talking to HIM.” Jamie jabbed his thumb towards the Champions in turn for emphasis.

James had talked himself into a corner from which the only way to escape would involve an awful lot of loss of face. He would just have to put up with it.

Scott was now completely un-fettered until George padlocked one end of James’s hobble chain to his left wrist and the other end to James’s right one. At least James had his ankles freed even if Jamie insisted that his wrists remain bound so that he couldn’t remove the gag that he was replacing as he spoke.

“Don’t worry, mate.” said Scott dragging his unwilling chain gang partner across to where he had been sitting. “Us Champions have to stick together.” He also said, rather more quietly so that only George and James could hear, “Pull on the chain, Blondie, and I’ll drag you by your arms. Get it?” James looked at him solemnly and nodded to assure him that he did, indeed, get it. Predictably, Scott replaced his own ball gag after asking George to lock it on for him.

Scott jogged off along the tow-path at a rate that would allow James to go with him easily. As the reluctant blond stumbled his way along the tow-path, Scott made what he hoped were encouraging noises into his gag. They ran gently to the collapsed Blackspring tunnel, which these days marks the end of the canal, and back to site again. James attempted to thank his companion for his solicitous conduct and Scott gave him a friendly pat on the bum in understanding and acceptance.

He’d been good for quite some time now but finally he lost it. It probably wasn’t the most appropriate time for Harry to announce the return of the “gay boys” and as soon as he said it, he realised what he’d done. He didn’t mean it but any excuse was good enough for Aiden and, as Harry frantically tried to withdraw his assertion, he realised that Aiden was approaching with the promised, but as yet undamaged, tennis ball and a wide roll of micropore tape. He thought that, in the light of what he’d said, he’d better co-operate and opened wide.

Aiden took mercy on him and pulled a stress ball out of the pocket of the trackie bottoms that he’d put on since breakfast and used that instead of the tennis ball whilst suggesting that Harry had better try very hard in the competitions that he would face today if he didn’t want him to change his mind about using the tennis ball.

So, all three Champions were gagged once more and sitting on the ground with their ankles crossed and their wrists tied behind them. They’d have to get used to that.

TBC

[Carnath]

Thanks again for this great story! The longer the better!

[Xtc]

Thanks, [mention]Carnath[/mention], Just bear with it and we'll soon be underway again.

[Xtc]

THE CHAMPIONS 3


The Tournament Starts

“Alright, boys. Today’s first event’s cross country so you’ll all be allowed to wear trainers. IF you brought them,” said Jamie looking ominously towards James. In fact, Jamie and Aiden had been sure to pack their Champions’ trainers and even Scott wasn’t stupid enough to expect to be allowed to take part bare-foot. The “Owners” soon had their Champions laced tightly into their trainers and Aiden started to explain the course to them. Being Scouts, Scott and Harry were used to ‘games’ like this but James was more than a little unsure about the wetter part of the course.

The Owners soon had the three Champions standing and checked the security of the ropes fastening their arms. Only then did it dawn on James that he wasn’t going to be untied before the contest. The rules were simple: the winner was the first to put his foot on the button that Aiden had dropped in the middle of the keep and the loser was the last to do so. The loser and his Owner would then have to suffer some sort of forfeit to be decided upon by the other Owners. The loser of the challenge between Aiden and Jamie and the subsequent penalty would be decided after three events had been contested.

The owners appraised the contestants, each wondering about the chances of his own Champion. Scott, slim and square-shouldered was an all-round athlete and always game for anything. James was not particularly athletic but, although the heaviest of the three, was by no means flabby. He was built more along the lines of a sprinter than an endurance athlete. He wasn’t looking forward to the forthcoming ordeal. Harry, with his racing snake figure was renowned for his stamina and determination. Even if he did look like the rejects after a half-price sale at the match-stalk factory, he was a valued and indefatigable member of his hockey team. He was also stupid enough to relish the challenge and was by no means as resentful as James.

Cross Country

The Cross-country Course



Jamie gave the “Ready, set, go!” and the three contestants set off from the centre of the keep, onto the surrounding path and onto the dry causeway to the tow-path. Being unused to such events, James went off as fast as he thought his balance would allow and, in spite of some near trips, was well ahead of the other two Champions by the time he reached the tow-path. The runners turned left onto the tow-path and James still pushed himself as hard as he could. Scott was more aware of the demands of the event and, knowing the site, paced himself more carefully and was well in the rear as the runners reached the footpath and turned left towards the Light Water Gutter. James reached the path in little more than a minute and Scott was a good ten seconds behind him. He was beginning to regret his choice of gag which was making his breathing less easy than James’s bit was making his. Harry had even more trouble due to the amount of white tape sealing his lips.

By the time the contestants reached the gutter, James, having set off much too fast, had been overtaken by Scott and nearly caught up by Harry. There can’t have been more than two or three seconds between the contestants as they entered the water.

Jamie had changed into his black jammers and tatty old trainers before the event as he’d decided that he would be lifeguard for the riskiest leg of the race and had made his way through the woodland to the entry point at the ford. Even at the ford the water came up nearly to the runners’ knees and both Scott and Harry were aware that there were deep holes in the river bed even if they didn’t know where all of them were. An already exhausted James didn’t share that awareness. Yet!!

The runners turned left into the river and anyone who has ever tried walking in water will realise just how difficult it is to move fast even with the use of one’s arms to assist with balance. The water soon came to be deep enough to reach the runners’ privates and, even in summer, it was far from warm. When the river floor suddenly disappeared, Harry was at an advantage; being a Sea Scout he was used to silly games, such as swimming with his hands tied, that were played whenever the Scouters’ backs were turned. If he hadn’t tried to go off quite so fast at the outset of the event, he might well have been in the lead. As it was, after well more than ten minutes’ wading, swimming and what the other boys referred to as “washing their hair”, the contestants approached the canal with Scott about thirty seconds ahead of Harry and over a minute ahead of an increasingly desperate James.

Just before the canal bridge, an informal path had been worn making the exit from the gutter relatively easy. Even so, there was quite a lot of slippage and loss of footing and all the runners got well muddied before they had climbed up to the tow-path once more. By now Harry, who had pushed himself too hard initially, was feeling the strain especially as he had been completely unable to breathe through his mouth during the event, and desperation was driving James to put in an almost superhuman effort not to come in last. Harry risked a look round and nearly fell onto the gravel tow-path leading back to the keep but he did manage to recover in time to beat James and get on the button a good twenty seconds ahead of him.

Post Mortem #1

The three soggy and exhausted contestants were just collapsed on the hard ground inside the ruinous shell of the castle keep while their Owners came to some decisions whilst seeming to ignore their Champions completely.

Harry’s flimsy, navy blue hockey shorts seemed well over-sized as they clung to his skinny frame but his embarrassment was covered, more or less, by the jockstrap that he’d been allowed to wear. In his Calvin Kleins, Scott was probably not quite as well covered but, you know Scott, he simply couldn’t care. James, though, was mortified as his loose-knit white boxers clung to every contour of his lower abdomen. No amount of wriggling seemed to do anything about it unless he wanted to lie face down in the dust but it did ensure a change of underwear colour from white to brown as his wet boxers converted dust into mud.

Before judgement was made, the Champions were forced to sit once more but against the wall of the keep this time. Their legs were adjusted and the straps buckled once more around their crossed ankles.

Scott was obviously the winner and James equally obviously the loser of the first event. He, therefore, had to suffer some sort of forfeit while the other two champions rested in the shade of the ancient walls. The problem was that, although all the events had been determined beforehand, no discussion had taken place concerning any possible forfeits. That doesn’t mean that no thought had been devoted to them.

“Jamie, you know that squirty cream we’ve been saving?

“Tell me.”

“Well, I believe that James should apologise to you for losing that contest.”

“Sounds good. How?”

“I think he should have to lick cream off your feet. You can use Harry as a chair.” James and Harry didn’t seem to approve of Aiden’s devious plan.

It was impossible to understand what Harry was trying to say but James seemed to be saying something like, “If you think . . . you can go and . . . yourselves”.

Then George had an idea. “In that case, there’s a patch of stingers over there. Me and my Champion could always lift you over there and let you roll around a bit. I think there’s also a few brambles. Anyone got something I can blindfold him with? I reckon five minutes should be long enough, what do you guys think?” There was no doubt about the single word that escaped James’s gag. “No, where? I haven’t seen a punt. Let’s say ten minutes.” George’s grin brought his dimples into evidence.

James took the opportunity to change his mind and Jamie took off his unsavoury old trainers. Harry was re-positioned to be on his knees with his right side against the wall and made to bend forwards. Jamie took his rather bony seat and Aiden took the aerosol of squirty cream and squirted it generously over the tops of Jamie’s feet from his toes to his ankles. James was positioned on his knees facing his task and Jamie reminded James that he owed him one for losing because he might have to suffer later because of it. He also reminded James that, if he shouted for help once his gag was removed or, if he refused his task, he’d have plenty of time to reconsider once Scott and George had finished with him.

The situation had the desired effect. James was warned not to try to rub the white foam off with his nose or any other part of his head but to use good, long strokes of his tongue. James did his best in spite of falling forwards onto his face three times and having to be “helped” up again. There was no shortage of helpful suggestions: “Missed a bit”, “Turn your foot, Jamie, he can’t quite get that bit on the side.”, etc.

In spite of his best efforts not to rub the cream off, James’s face and hair were liberally endowed with cream by now. “Please, I’ve done it, can I stop now?” After careful inspection of his feet, it was decided that more work needed to be done to clean between Jamie’s toes. If looks could kill, Aiden and Jamie would have dropped on the spot but as soon as George moved to untie Scott, James sighed deeply, muttered something about “watching your backs” and finished his job.

“Hey, I’ve had an idea. If I put my feet up on Harry’s back, James can enjoy some more cream off my soles.” That idea was too gross to gather any support from even Aiden and George but they did hint that, if James continued with “THAT language”, they might change their minds. Jamie grabbed the aerosol. James became instantly silent.

James was helped to sit up on his ankles and Jamie dismounted from his rather uncomfortable perch, went to collect the willow stick and started to wipe it on his jammers. “Please, Jamie, no. I won’t shout and I won’t swear. Promise.”

“You swear?” asked George. At least he thought it was funny.

It was discussed, put to the vote and it was decided that it was probably time for the Champions to be given refreshment in any case. All the Champions were soon propped against the wall again without their gags, even Scott. The Owners made sure their Champions took water and, between that and their recent encounter with the Light Water, the Champions were in need of a visit to the hole near the low hanging branch.

The Owners Let Scott Help Out

The Owners had some logistical decisions to make. Following their cross-country event, there was obviously a need for the Champions to change out of whatever clothing they had been allowed; James needed to wash his face and all of them seemed to need to pee. Scott would be no trouble to contain but James certainly would and so might Harry.

Scott suggested that Jamie could chain James and himself together again so that James could rinse his face in the canal and towel himself off afterwards. That seemed like a fair idea and Harry gave his word of honour as a Sea Scout that he would just take the necessary piss and surrender again; he was getting desperate. Aiden suggested that, instead of that, Harry could wait until Scott and James returned and be hobbled with the chain before he was allowed to go. The horrified look on the skinny boy’s face and his extreme bodily contortions, coupled with the abject pleadings, made Jamie suggest that he should be allowed to relieve himself first. That nearly ruined Scott’s plan.

Scott thought fast. “In that case: you know I won’t escape; why don’t you just chain James and Harry together by their wrists?”

“Round their ankles would be better.”

“No. They might as well change while they’re about it.” The Owners were soon persuaded, especially when they realised that they didn’t have to do any supervision for themselves and so they quickly agreed. George untied Scott’s arms and Scott went about organising things while Jamie locked the chain between Harry’s left wrist and James’s right one.

Scott grabbed James’s towel and another of his many pairs of identical white boxers and a brief pair of running shorts for Harry. He also collected the straps that were used to secure the Champions’ ankles, and a few other things that the Owners didn’t notice. Once the two Champions had been chained together, Scott held out his hand for the padlock keys “so that I can chain one of them while the other’s changing.” Scott must have had one of those faces that people trust because the Owners didn’t even suspect a thing.

Scott toted the requirements in a handy carrier bag and blindfolded Harry and James with their replacement shorts which he taped into position using more micropore tape. “It’s alright,” he assured his charges as they saw the first-aid kit depleted, “we’re just not allowed to have an accident.” He then moved to be behind his fellow Champions, took them by an arm each and guided them towards the “facilities”.

Finding the tree with the low hanging branch, Scott untied Harry’s wrists and he wasted no time removing the shorts from his head and getting down to business. “Want to change your shorts now?” Harry confirmed that he did and quickly slipped out of his wet hockey shorts and the jockstrap. The little yellow running shorts already had integral briefs so needed no underwear although they would hardly be considered decent without.

“Sorry, mate, hands behind you.” Harry obeyed and Scott tied his wrists again. “Better blindfold you as well.” Even while Scott was taping his wet shorts round his eyes, Harry still didn’t suspect a thing.

TBC

[Xtc]

THE CHAMPIONS 4


Scott Makes Another Suggestion

Scott removed James’s blindfold, untied his wrists and addressed him, “Get on with it. I’ve got a suggestion to make.” James took his relief and asked Scott for his towel which he wrapped around his waist after having wiped his face and hair as clean as he could under the circumstances. He was obviously more bashful than Harry as he changed his boxers; not an easy manoeuvre while chained to the other Champion.

“Alright, what suggestion?”

“You remember what this creature said when we came back from our run last night?”

“Yes?” said James slowly. He was suspicious. So was Harry now.

“Well, do you think we should have a word with him?”

For the first time since the start of his ordeal, James smiled, “Yeees?”

“Well, he can’t see, can he?”

“Nooo?”

“So, as long as you cooperate, it won’t matter if I unchain him from you, will it?”

“No.”

“OK don’t get too carried away but if you behave, I think we can persuade Harry boy here of the error of his ways. Alright by you?”

Before James could answer, Harry interrupted. “Oh, come on you two, you know I didn’t mean it.”

“Ah, we know that - - any more than we mean THIS.” and Scott quickly shoved that stress ball back into Harry’s open mouth. More micropore tape was put to good use. There was no point in Harry’s trying to run and Scott soon had his ankles strapped together leaving him standing very unsteadily and still making unintelligible attempts to apologise and plead for mercy. One more strap was soon tightened round Harry, pinning his arms to his skinny torso. Scott started to explain things to James.

“Look, I’m not going to help you to escape, you’ve got your bet to pay but I think you might enjoy what I’m going to suggest. . . .” James liked the suggestion indeed.

Scott unlocked the chain round Harry’s arm and re-connected it to James’s right ankle leaving the other two boys completely separated. Then, in order, Scott padlocked the free end of the chain round James’s right ankle, unchained his right wrist and completed the quite generous hobble.

“Right, funny guy, now we’re going to take you over here and have a little word with you. We wouldn’t want to disturb our Owners, would we? Harry’s answer could be guessed at but not heard from very far away. Under instruction from Scott, James slipped his hands under Harry’s armpits and attempted to link them in front of his chest while Scott gabbed the belt around his feet and lifted him off the ground.

Harry had no idea where he was being taken but it took nearly five minutes before he was stood up again. Harry’s “trial” commenced.

“The prisoner called the jury 'gay boys'. Is that right?" Harry shook his head and felt a sharp thwack on his backside. That was a use for the third belt. “Is – that –right?” This time Harry nodded and tried to explain that he was only joking.

“See, he admits it!” James was getting a little over-excited.”

“Does the prisoner have anything to say?” Harry had plenty to say (No change there, then) but the jury didn’t seem to be able to understand him.

“No, none of that makes any sense. Time for the verdict.” The verdict was in no doubt but Harry thought it would be a good idea to listen to his sentence instead of which, following James’s announcement of “Sentence.” He found himself hoisted from the ground and swung backwards and forwards to the count of, “One, two, threeee.” Whereupon he was released. The subsequent splash hardly came as a surprise.

Harry’s Fate

James was now laughing fit to bust while Scott just cheered as their victim snorted the water from his nostrils and attempted to stand up. The water wasn’t particularly deep and, if there had been a problem, Scott would simply have thrown James into the Gravel Pond as well to sort it out.

To put it delicately, the skinny Harry had “large hands and feet” and standing there, thigh deep in water, his running shorts were protecting his modesty in a very inadequate manner. Being blindfolded, he had to shuffle himself round to face the laughter to give him some idea of where the bank was. He bunny-hopped as carefully as he could until he came up against the bank.

“Yes, the bank’s a bit steep there, you need to go about ten metres to your left. You’ll be able to get out there.” Harry growled, this was like one of his unsupervised Sea Scout patrol camps, - but he wasn’t usually the victim these days. He turned and hopped determinedly towards where he hoped he would be told he could get out of the pond.

Scott and James let Harry struggle for a few minutes before Scott called him over to the bank again. As Harry’s thighs rested against the earthy bank, Scott pulled the shorts from his head. “There’s the easy way out. Once you’re out, you should be able to stand again if you fall; if not, you’ll have to roll back to the castle. Don’t forget, you’re on your honour not to escape. Good luck. Oh, and don’t forget your jockstrap.” Harry thought he’d leave the jockstrap for later and, following a last desperate, and deliberately misunderstood plea for mercy, was left to continue his struggle.

Return of the Champions

“Where the hell have you two been?”

“And where’s Harry?”

“Oh, he’s just washing his hair.”

“Yes, he won’t be long.”

“We had a little score to settle.” The exchange got quieter as Scott and James neared the keep. James had his wrists bound again and the chain had been re-attached between his arm and Scott’s wrist but Scott didn’t think it had been necessary to blindfold his co-conspirator for his walk back to base. In less than two minutes the Owners had been brought up to speed about what had happened and James was seated with his ankles strapped once more.

George, at Scott’s insistence, bound his Champion’s wrists but Scott had to apologise to his owner for leaving the other ankle straps with Harry. Unfortunately (or not) for Scott, by now George was getting into his role. “Oh, that’s OK. On your belly.”

After the initial surprise, Scott did as he was told. George pulled his ankles upwards and crossed them. There wasn’t enough rope left from the one he had used to secure his friend and Champion’s wrists but another short rope was soon tied round Scott’s crossed ankles. Although there hadn’t been enough left of the rope around his wrists to secure Scott’s ankles, there was enough to cinch the one securing his ankles. But only just enough; there was no way Scott was going to be able to sit or kneel and his owner pointed out that it was his own fault that he’d have to lie there on his belly until Harry returned his ankle strap.

It was only then that Scott remembered that he hadn’t changed out of his wet black boxers.

Harry’s Regrets

It was some time before Harry bunny hopped, exhausted and still wet into the keep. The others had enjoyed watching his approach, especially when he fell and had some difficulty standing again. Even though the pond water had loosened the tape somewhat, he had been unable to dislodge the squishy ball from his mouth and his approach was accompanied by more than a little grunting.

Harry collapsed on the ground and Aiden grabbed him by one skinny ankle and dragged him over to the wall where he propped him up and undid the strap round his chest. ”Alright?”

“Ohh ahh.”

“Good boy. Gonna be quiet?” Harry nodded and Aiden removed his gag before re-positioning his ankles once more.

In spite of his mistreatment, Harry thought he should apologise to James and Scott. He didn’t really mean to cause offence and said that he knew he shouldn’t have said what he said.

“We know.”

“Yea, it was just too good an opportunity to pass up.” James and Scott laughed.

“You bastards.” So did Harry.

George freed Scott from his hogtie and completed binding his Champion in the customary fashion.

All was now in order and all was right with the world. Lunch was prepared and eaten and the Champions' arms were tied and they were gagged once more ready for the next event.

Scavenger Hunt

Three more ropes were produced and the conditions were explained to the Champions. The rules were simple: each Champion had to find four objects and drop each one on the button in the middle of the keep before returning for the next one. That’s all there was to it really. The Owners then hobbled their Champions’ feet about 45 centimetres apart and examined one another’s bindings to make sure that no one had an unfair advantage.

The objects were to be a piece of wood more than 60 centimetres long, at least a kilogramme of stone, three strands of stinging nettle each at least 30 centimetres long and a piece of cow-pat big enough to cover the Champion’s footprint when it was dropped. Harry thought that part was unfair but he could hardly protest.

“Contestants Ready?”

“Hold on a minute, Jamie. We’ve forgotten something.” Aiden produced a large roll of gaffer tape and three tennis balls from one of the packs. George and Jamie grinned. The Champions didn’t.

The owners had been watching their Champions (and, more importantly, their opponents’ Champions) carefully to see whether they were right- or left-handed. Scott was right-handed so George gave him a tennis ball to hold in his right hand and told him to grip it tightly while he bound the silver tape round the resultant fist. George was very thorough. James had his left hand bound and Harry his right. Each Champion could now not use his dominant hand to gather or carry his prizes.

Jamie started again. “Contestants ready? Go!”

The scavengers had only had a few minutes for mental planning and each of them headed off in different directions from the end of the dry causeway.

TBC

[blackbound]

The tennis balls are a nice touch. For a moment I thought they might be used as very cruel and unusual gags.

[Xtc]

I think they would have needed to be split first. I don't think even Harry's big gob could tolerate such an intrusion.

[Xtc]

Sorry about the overdue nature of the next episode but I've been living in a field.

Readers of a delicate nature might care to skip the third of the challenges. You have been warned!

Here goes.

[Xtc]

THE CHAMPIONS 5


Scavenging

All the Champions had a different strategy. About the only thing those strategies had in common was that they’d all decided to leave the cowpat till last.

Scott made for the vast fallen beech tree which he noticed not far from the ford when he and George arrived. He was pretty sure that there would be a suitable length of snapped wood and he determined that his trophy would not be too short. Examining the debris that was once the crown of the ancient pollard, Scott found plenty of suitable snapped-off branch-ends scattered around without having to penetrate the main wreckage. He turned round, did a sort of dip with his knees and, looking over his shoulder, grabbed his selected bough. Never one to under-perform, Scott had chosen a trophy that would require a certain amount of dragging but not so much as to stop him making as rapid progress back with it as his hobble would allow. On the way, Scott worked out a sort of “step, step, spring” gait that made his progress relatively quick, if demanding.

Scott found that the Owners had changed their minds about where the Champions were to present their trophies. Three circles had been inscribed into the ground; each one being supervised by one of the Owners. Scott headed for the one being watched by George. Wrong! George re-directed him to the circle being supervised by Aiden; the Owners weren’t going to let someone else’s Champion get away with presenting inadequate trophies.

Scott dropped the branch. Aiden made him shift it until it was completely inside the circle. Before he went in search of his next trophy, Scott noticed a pile of small stones already in place in the circle that George was supervising, that was obviously James’s pile and, indeed, he could see the blonde kid disappearing to collect his next trophy. Harry had obviously not started his collection yet but he could be seen approaching with some sad examples of stinging nettles and a few precautionary doc leaves.

Harry’s eclectic country knowledge had stood him in good stead; he knew how to take nettle tips without getting stung. He only hoped that his trophies would be long enough. He also hoped that his Owner would soon consider removing the stress ball from his mouth because he thought that he’d found out why it was called a stress ball.

Harry left for the next stage of his task as James arrived with the last of his stones. Harry thought he had a better idea than having to keep returning with handfuls of small stones when he saw how little James had managed to glean in one handful. Harry’s large hands - or at least one of them - were going to come in useful. James had collected what he considered sufficient stones and thought he’d go for the piece of wood next. While he was collecting the stones, he’d noticed a stick that someone had probably been throwing for their dog to catch and had since discarded. That was going to be easy meat; he’d got it into the circle before the other Champions had returned.

Scott decided to go for the nettles next and he certainly couldn’t be bothered to be too worried about being stung. Once, when he’d needed a day off school to complete a Spanish assignment, he’d got up early, found a patch of nettles and stripped to his underpants before rolling in the stingers with his hands over his more delicate parts. By the time he’d come down to breakfast, his mother noticed the nasty looking rash and, upon further inspection, insisted on keeping him at home. A bit extreme perhaps but Scott did turn in a really good Spanish assignment. He also won the bet he’d made with George. He still had to collect on that.

Harry hobbled towards the river. He knew where there was one large stone that would certainly weigh more than a kilogramme. All he had to do was to get it. He located his quarry, knelt down and felt behind him. He soon had the trophy in his left hand and clumsily regained his feet. Harry dropped his find twice on his way back to the keep but he still managed to drop the item on target just as Scott appeared with three long stinging nettles that he’d detached, with difficulty, at the root. That was safe but the long, floppy weeds had made a thorough job of the backs of Scott’s legs by the time he’d got them to where they needed to be.

By now, James had reached the nettle patch. He’d just have to be brave if he was to maintain his lead. He gave serious thought to doing a runner but realised that not only could the watching Jamie catch him easily all the while he was tied up but, even worse, he’d get a reputation as a welcher. He plucked up both courage and several lengths of nettle from behind him. That stick in his mouth did little to protect the ears of the more delicate youngsters as James tugged, yelled, swore luridly and started back to the keep. At least the way he had grabbed the stalks kept them away from his body as he stumbled on.

There was no sign of either Harry or Scott and that almost took James’s mind off the stinging sensation in his right hand. However, he had one task left; he could put it off no longer. Jamie told him where he was most likely to find that for which he would be seeking. James had a decision to make. The cattle were on the opposite side of the river and the opposite side of the canal. The easiest way to get to them would be to follow the tow-path and cross the canal at Blackspring Tunnel to get to the cattle field but that would be about 800 metres before he could even start looking for a suitable cow-pat. On the other hand, that loony, Scott would probably jump into the river and hope to find somewhere nearby to get out again. This was not the sort of decision James usually had to make. The sight of Scott approaching helped him to decide.

He took off down the tow-path, down the worn path and into the gutter. It hadn’t got any warmer. He turned and passed under the canal bridge. Fortunately for James, there was a bend in the river where the deposition was on the correct side to allow him to exit the water. Unfortunately, it was also the obvious place for the cattle to visit to get water. The mud (among other things) was deep and would be difficult enough to negotiate even if James wasn’t tied up. He took the inevitable tumble in the smelly brown stuff and was instantly covered from his toes to his nose and a bit further. By the time he’d stumbled to his feet again, not much of his pale skin was in evidence.

Having left the mud, James found his first appropriate pancake. He was now so mucky that there was no point in his being delicate and he even gave some thought into shoving some of the noxious substance down his boxers to make sure that he’d have enough. He soon dismissed that, after all, there ARE standards. He sat down and scooped up as much poop as possible and attempted to trap it between his hands and his back. He couldn’t see how much he had but thought that, if he had to come back for more, so would the other two. He waded back as carefully as possible; a fall now would rob him of his prize.

Scott had managed to find and, with some difficulty, transport two large ironstone pebbles to the keep but James was already out of sight. Scott took off quickly and made the same decision about using the river. James was on dry land and on his way back when Scott passed him. Scott did consider barging him on the way past but the thought of what Jamie might do to him if he did exceeded what even Scott might enjoy. The two boys grunted in passing.

James’s gentle walk to the keep ensured that most of his precious cargo arrived in tact but he didn’t enjoy posing for the photos. He even crouched down to make sure that he made his deposit in a controlled fashion. After that a really pissed-off Harry arrived. He’d had difficulty finding a long enough piece of timber and had wasted time trying to break some off a living coppice without luck. By the time he’d found a suitable trophy, he was so far behind the others that he thought he’d just give up. At least he wouldn’t have to go through what he could see that James had just suffered. Aiden had other ideas; if he was going to have to suffer because Harry was useless, he wasn’t going to let him off the final quest.

Scott arrived shortly after Harry had left and he’d lacked the sensibility of James and had plenty of the stuff literally stuffed inside his boxers. I think readers can imagine the noises made by the owners as he scraped as much as possible onto the floor. Both Scott and James were then forced to wait for Harry to finish. None of the Owners approached his Champion.

Post Mortem #2

Once Harry had deposited his final trophy, the jury gathered to judge the acceptability of the offerings. Before that, James just assumed that he had won.

The Champions were called to stand by their trophies while they were appraised. Scott’s nettles obviously met requirements and the backs of his legs and James’s right hand were by now feeling somewhat less “prickly” largely due to Harry having indicated that he was prepared to share the dock-leaves. That was easy enough for James who just had to crush the herbal remedy in his un-bound fist and manipulate it for a few seconds but Scott’s efforts were far more photogenic. He gave up the effort as taking more trouble than it was worth before he’d managed to massage the juice over all the rash. He was tough and he'd had to put up with worse to get that day off school.

Aiden questioned whether all three of James’s nettle strands met the stated criteria and the unfortunate Champion was made to crouch down and present the suspect item for closer inspection. By now James knew better than to argue and scrabbled round behind him until, under instruction from Jamie, he lifted the most pathetic looking specimen. George ruled that it was, indeed, good enough and James dropped it with a will.

The Owners lifted the piles of stone and agreed that there was no need to scrutinise them further. The timber offerings were also judged to be of acceptable dimensions. That just left the dung!

Scott’s offering was obviously adequate as was even James’s more delicately gathered specimen. Jamie, however, questioned whether Harry’s was large enough to cover his footprint. It was useful to have George as a neutral referee between Aiden and Jamie. He immediately suggested an obvious way of checking and Harry raised his trainer-shod foot. With the state he was in, there would be no harm in stepping in that stuff now.

“Wait a minute.” Harry’s foot paused in mid-air as Aiden interrupted. “Isn’t it supposed to be his FOOT-print? George agreed that it was. “OK, Harry boy, off with the shoe.” Both Jamie and Harry (although not as distinctly) objected. George agreed that a foot-print was not a shoe print, but then, he would, and Harry was ordered to slip off his trainer. Harry, forgetting his previous stoicism, decided that he was looking at two dead men!

The skinny kid used his left foot to trap the back of his right trainer and forced it from his foot. There was a satisfying squelch as Harry proved that his pancake was, in fact, big enough but George and Jamie made him stay like that until they had made suitable scrutiny of the situation.

All trophies having been deemed adequate, the result was obvious: the winner of the Scavenger Hunt was James and the loser was Harry, whose fate was yet to be decided. The proxy competition between Jamie and Aiden was to be decided on the final event!

TBC

[Xtc]

THE CHAMPIONS 6


Bath Time

Before the Champions would be of any use at all, they obviously needed to clean up. It was just a question of how they could be free enough to remove all the assorted filth from their bodies without having the opportunity to escape. Scott would be no problem and, if Harry was prepared to give his word of honour, neither would he – probably.

There was only one thing for certain: every Champion needed to be submerged in water that wasn't going to be drunk! There followed some discussion about whether the bathtub should be the canal, the gutter, or the pond. For reasons that the Champions could not follow, the pond was nominated as the most suitable venue and the Owners had to gather the necessary equipment.

"Last one on his belly gets whipped with the stingers." After the initial surprise, all three boys got down on the ground. Jamie's voice resumed, "OK, let's call that a dead heat. Lift your feet." Six shins were raised to the vertical. "Cross your ankles." Once more each Champion made the wise decision. Not one Owner wanted to approach close enough to his Champion to blindfold him for fear of "accidental" contamination.

With a precautionary reminder from Aiden about the advisability of not un-crossing their ankles and the effects of stinging nettles and brambles, the Owners left their victims so that they could get what would be needed for the next and deciding event as well as the impending bath time.

When the Owners returned with duffel bags, all except Jamie, who was already suitably attired, had changed. Aiden was sporting a fairly short and baggy old pair of light blue swimming shorts and his tattiest trainers. By contrast, George's footwear was still almost fit to be seen on a boy's feet; and he had slipped into his long, white swimming shorts. (He didn't quite seem to understand the dress code.)

George spoke to his Champion, "OK Scott?" Scott nodded, of course he was: he was tied up outdoors in the summer with his mates. "Right, the others have said that, because you're a volunteer, you can look after these two." and he looked at James and Harry. As he knelt down, George tried to keep himself as far away from his mate as he could as he untied his wrists. The partial success of his endeavour helped him to understand that wearing his new, long, white swimming shorts was not his wisest fashion decision ever. He did, however, manage to free Scott's wrists.

By now Scott's Calvin Klein's were serving very little purpose at all but even Scott wasn't brazen enough to remove them in front of everybody, so he just sat up and started working on the tape that was rendering his right hand useless. Before he'd removed all the tape, Scott was able to discharge the ball round which his fingers had been wrapped and that made the end of that particular job rather easier than the beginning.

After Scott had taken the opportunity to remove his own gag, flex his arms and rotate his shoulders, he asked whether he ought to remove Harry's and James's gags as well. The others thought that it should be OK now that they couldn't plot anything without being overheard so he did so. George gave his friend the chain and the small padlocks and Aiden told him to chain the other two Champions together. Neither of them seemed to be impressed that Scott had chosen to link them by their necks. The difference between the terms of endearment that he suffered from the both of them was simply that, between the expletives, James kept referring to Scouts.

"Come on lads; aren't you going to gag them again? You can hear what they're calling me."

"Which bits are you arguing with?"

"Yeah, sounds about right to me."

With a resigned, "You guys suck," Scott abandoned his appeal and awaited further orders.

No one really expected any trouble from Harry but, all the while he was fastened to James, the blonde's options were effectively reduced to zero. Just out of fairness, however, the owners decided that they would not show Harry any favours. He thanked them profusely - not!

The Owners shouldered their duffel bags and ordered James and Harry to their feet. George told Scott to grab hold of the chain 'just in case'.

Prisoners (with Harry still wearing only one shoe for obvious reasons) and escorts headed down the dry causeway out of the keep, skirted the boggy area that was once the castle's moat and made their way through the scattered trees towards the pond that was formed when the Estate workers had extracted gravel for the repair of the farm tracks over the centuries. The pond was deep in the middle and had a small island off towards the far bank. That pond was where Scott and James had taken Harry to 'wash his hair' previously.

Once on the near bank, the Owners made it clear that their Champions had to get in the pond where Scott would help to free them and they could remove their dirty clothing in some privacy before cleaning themselves off. James and Harry became suspicious and Jamie had to reassure them that the Owners had brought them something to wear afterwards.

On the shout, "Geronimo!" Scott propelled his conjoined charges forwards and into the pond at a deep point. There was much spluttering and scrabbling for footing before Scott took the opportunity to remove his trainers and throw them to George before shedding his long-serving underpants in more privacy than he would normally have demanded. George had even brought a plastic bag for him to put the over-worked boxers in, not that Scott would particularly want to use them again but they knew they had to port out all their rubbish when they went. James and Harry were just left to their own devices while Scott attempted to remove as many traces of his recent burden as he could. Jamie advised them to make sure that their wrists were dunked until Scott was ready so that their taped hands could be more easily released. The chained boys decided to work their way to slightly shallower water where they could sit down.

"Did you bring me any soap?" Scott was ever the optimist.

"Nah, we can't put soap in the pond. Think about the fish."

"And the ducks"

"And the insects."

"OK, OK, I've got the message."

"And the frogs."

Harry had a suggestion to make. "You know horsetail? Use that. It's natural." Scott didn't get it and Harry stood, dragging a reluctant James with him across to the point where he had climbed out of the pond earlier. He indicated a growth of the primitive plant not far from the pond. "They used to use that stuff as a natural soap. Honest." When Harry said anything like that, it was always wise to believe him because his knowledge of the countryside was surprisingly wide-ranging. Wise, that is, as long as he was telling the truth. Once he had repeated it on his honour, the other boys knew they could believe him so George borrowed Aiden's knife and went to reap a large bunch of the weed.

Scott seemed to be in no hurry as he scrubbed himself down. George even got into the pond to give handfuls of the tufty plant to his Champion. Once Scott had declared himself satisfied, George took the rest of the vegetative bundle and dumped it on the bank. He reached into his bag and threw something dark coloured to Scott.

"Oaar, thanks, mate!" A delighted Scott waded towards his black jammers and hurriedly put them on. James and Harry dared to hope. Scott adjusted himself.

"OK, it's not that impressive, stop playing with it."

"Stop looking then."

"Tart!" Scott gave George one of his 'So what?' looks.

"OK, boys, who's first?" Both Harry and James volunteered for the earlier release. Scott decided upon 'odd or even' to decide. "OK, turn around. One finger or two. First one to match me. One two three, go!" James flicked two fingers of his free hand and Harry flicked one finger of his. So did Scott. "OK, Bean-pole, looks like you." Harry swallowed the insult and thought better of replying.

Scott had little difficulty removing the saturated tape from Harry's right hand and he threw the ball so released and the ball of used tape to Aiden. Harry was soon free except for the chain that was connecting him to James. He was no more shy than Scott and quickly whipped off his now useless, sodden running shorts, along with his remaining trainer, without bothering too much about how deep the water was.

"Deeper! Deeper, we don't want to see it."

"I've got nothing to be ashamed of." He certainly hadn't.

"I don't suppose you're related to Scottie by any chance?" Scott looked affronted; Harry grinned.

James was getting impatient but the Owners decided that he could stay tied up until Harry had finished. Aiden took a cue from George and entered the pond to provide his erstwhile Champion with some of the horsetail while Jamie took his knife to reap some more ready for James's turn. After the completion of his toilette, Harry asked what Aiden had brought him to wear so Aiden exited the pond and rifled through his bag. Harry was the nightmare of swimming pool operatives; he always wore his ragged, knee length sawn off jeans and he was delighted to see them as they flew through the air towards him. With his being so skinny, they had to be Harry's and the original garment probably fitted him once. He forced himself into them and then spotted the snag.

He'd normally wear the shorts with briefs but Aiden had somehow forgotten to give him any. Even so, Harry's face still managed to grin in recognition as he forced his hand into the increasingly tight space as he protected his crown jewels with it and pulled the zip up with his other hand.

"OK, I'm ready." Harry crossed his hands behind him. He was sure that he would be tied up again. He wasn't wrong. Aiden entered the pond again with quite a long rope. He told Harry to put his hands palm to palm and wrapped the doubled rope five times around them and cinched them off with two rounds between them. Aiden had learnt the knot that avoided having to pass the whole rope through it and fastened Harry's wrists securely with it. The rest of the rope was wrapped several times round Harry's body and arms above his elbows and tied off securely.

Harry knew he had to accept it and even managed to conduct a friendly conversation with the other boys as Aiden completed his task and left the pond again after enjoying a few swimming strokes in the deeper part of the pond.

James knew that it was his turn and he called Jamie to come and untie him because Scott seemed to be busy with George beside the pond. Jamie grabbed something from his bag, tucked it into his jammers and sauntered into the pond. He soon had his Champion untied while George spent his time tying Scott in very much the same way that he had just seen Aiden doing to Harry.

James pulled Harry deeper into the pond so that he could preserve what was left of his modesty while he removed his trainers and then his boxers. "Where's my swimmers?"

"What swimmers?" Jamie wrapped the unpleasant boxers, somewhat reluctantly round James's trainers and threw them to the bank.

"My swimming shorts."

"Didn't bring 'em." Jamie was studiedly casual.

"You told me you'd bring something for me to wear."

"I have." Jamie looked down at the now soggy white fabric draped from the waist-band of his jammers. He'd brought another pair of James's loose knit white boxers which he held out to his Champion.

"But they're wet."

"So?"

"But - - but - - when they're wet th - they don't hide anything."

"You could always get out and drip-dry for a while before putting them on. We'll wait"

"Oh, very funny."

"Well, do you want them or not?"

"Give them here."

"Ask nicely."

James took a deep breath. "Jamie, please may I have my boxers?"

"Seein' as you asked so nicely . . . Aiden, please can you go to my bag and get that blue freezer bag? Thanks, mate. Toss it over here." Jamie caught the object and turned back to James. "Here, I got these from a charity shop just for you. They were new, even had all the labels. Two pounds, fifty; not bad uh? I hope you're the same size as me."

Jamie handed over the bag and James undid the knot and withdrew a garish, multi-coloured pair of Speedo swim briefs.

"What?" James screwed his nose up and looked at the monstrosities open mouthed.

"That's the offer. Take it or leave it. Don't bother to thank me."

"You fucking - - "

"A - a- ah - Naughty, naughty! You're going swimming in a minute and I don't think you want to be gagged as well as bound now do you?" James stopped swearing but continued making remarks about pervy Scouts and how he didn't believe that Jamie would make him swim while he was tied up. The others assured him that, yes, he would; and now the other two Champions knew what lay ahead of them.

By the time he had calmed down a bit, James had forced himself into the swimming costume, which was a bit on the small side but it was better than having those cotton shorts clinging to him unpleasantly and probably coming down when he was unable to retrieve them. Jamie told Harry and James to leave the pond before he bound James ready for the last contest. Harry thought the Owners must have forgotten that he had a forfeit to pay for losing the last one.

TBC

[drawscore]

A bit of a long read, but interesting and fun.

Drawscore

[drawscore]

A bit of a long read, but interesting and fun.

Drawscore

[Xtc]

Hang on [mention]drawscore[/mention], there seems to be an echo in here!

Thanks for the encouragement.

[blackbound]

Still enjoying this story a lot, there are some good jokes in there too, like "he thought that he’d found out why it was called a stress ball".

[Xtc]

Thanks. It's good to know you're still on board.

[Xtc]

THE CHAMPIONS 7


The Decider

The three Champions were lined up on the bank of the pond near to one of the deeper parts and each Owner was busy cuffing his Champion's ankles about fifteen centimetres apart. James would still have been giving it mouth if Jamie had not finally got fed up with his parentage being questioned and positioned the willow gag back where he decided that it belonged. Fear is a great teacher and it was amazing how quiet James became in the hopes that Jamie might relent before he had to swim bound as he was, a trial he had become convinced that he would have to undergo. Once all the Owners had finished, Aiden outlined the rules while Jamie undid the padlocks.

"One, competitors will dive or jump in. Two, the first one to touch that big oak tree on the island wins."

Harry was used to such rough games in his own Sea Scout Troop and Scott had been subjected to the ordeal once before and was convinced that he was man enough to take it. James panicked.

"What was that, James? Oh, don't worry, I'll be right there alongside you. I fancy a swim." That was news to George who realised that he'd have to accompany Scott. James wasn't much consoled.

"Are you really going to make him swim while he's gagged?" George was incredulous.

"Not if he asks nicely."

Aiden affirmed that Jamie was all heart.

James tried asking nicely. Even wearing a bit gag, it was perfectly possible to understand what he was trying to say but Jamie seemed to have difficulty understanding his former Champion. So James tried again. He was desperate.

"No, sorry mate, can't quite get that. You'll have to show me more clearly. How about begging?" James was that desperate that he crashed to his knees and asked again. Jamie tried to hide a sigh of relief; he didn't really want to make James swim like that and not only because it would be handicapping his champion. He got the result he wanted without having to rely on Aiden's being more sensible than to allow him to do that to James.

Jamie pointed out how generous he was, pulled his Champion to his feet and cut the cord that held the tormenting willow stick in his mouth. As they waited for the Owners to get round to starting the event, Harry and Scott reassured their competitor that there was no real danger, especially as Jamie would be wading/swimming alongside him. James was still not much consoled by the time Jamie counted, "Take your marks, - - - GO!"

Harry didn't hesitate. There was a strong favourite for the event and he was well underway before Aiden had time to jump in to ensure his safety. Scott, with George shortly behind him, wasn't much behind the skinny Sea Scout but James was very slow on the uptake. Jamie was "encouraging" him to do his best; he didn't want to lose the contest between himself and Aiden. Actually, after James had seen how Harry was undulating and made himself jump in, Jamie's threats moderated and he became genuinely encouraging and reassuring.

Harry was a skilled swimmer but Scott was stronger and, even though he was less familiar with the bizarre event, he started to erode Harry's lead. James made steady progress, taking rests supported by his Owner when he needed to and even gradually became more confident. Having seen what had happened to Harry at the end of the scavenger hunt, he didn't dare hope that Jamie would let him off. If Jamie was going to have to suffer, James was certain that he would have to suffer more.

OK, so it's obvious who was going to lose the contest but first place was very keenly contested. Harry stood against the south bank of the island a mere second or so before Scott. He flattened is skinny chest and abdomen on the ground and awkwardly lifted his legs out of the water and tried to shuffle himself round. Once he'd got his right leg on dry land, his progress became easier. He took a quick look to see how Scott was doing. He had a decision to make, should he try to stand or not? It was a good six metres to the oak and Scott had landed nearer to it than he had.

Scott saw that Harry had reached the island before him but also that he was nearer the target than his rival. Unfortunately, he made some wrong decisions and was still trying to climb onto the island as Harry decided to roll his way to the target. So, that was Harry first, Scott second and James still swimming.

George and Aiden swam across to where James was gradually making progress and started providing genuine encouragement. It was the first time James thought that he wasn't being treated like complete shit. It actually reassured him that he could succeed and he soon did so. All things, however, come to an end and, as soon as the last of the Champions reached the bank, the laughter resumed as James struggled to beach himself.

Once he had attained is target, the atmosphere seemed to change again and the cheers of the other five boys were genuine and even Jamie ruffled his hair with a quiet, "Well done, Mush." An exhausted, and much relieved James simply nodded his head.

Post Mortem #3

There were no appeals so the result was clear, so was the result of the competition between Aiden and Jamie: Aiden had obviously won. Jamie extended his hand. The next thing that needed deciding was the nature of any forfeit that James should suffer for losing the swimming event and the consequences for Jamie of losing the Owners' challenge. It was decided to delay the decisions until after dinner when they were away from the island again. It was then that Aiden remembered that Harry still had a forfeit to pay.

George assumed that, now that the contest was over, he should untie Scott but Scott pulled away from his erstwhile Owner. "Oi, Harry, fancy a side bet?"

"What?

"I nearly had you on that swim. Bet I could beat you to the bank." The other boys immediately took an interest. The conditions were agreed. The swimmers had to jump in on Jamie's call. First one to touch the "mainland" wins. James wondered how he was going to be expected to return.

Scott and Harry embarked upon a bout of friendly insults as they sat and waited for the others to be ready. Jamie agreed to release James's ankles so that he could wade most of the way back and the sportsmen were soon ready for the next contest. James declined Jamie's offer to use the rope that had only just been removed from his ankles as a dog-lead and reminded him that he couldn't afford to escape unless he wanted to be represented as a welcher. Jamie wasn't entirely convinced but he knew that, all the while James was tied up, he was still at a considerable disadvantage.

Back to Shore

Jamie suggested that he take James back first and that he started the race from the other side of the water. That sounded like a good idea to Aiden and George, who had confirmed that, with the main contest over, he wouldn't have to suffer alongside Scott if he lost. Jamie looped the unused rope around his neck and started wading with James by his side. When it came to the deep section, James was the first to start swimming. Jamie helped him out of the water and onto the bank and James was feeling quite proud of himself.

"OK Blondie, on your belly." James's smug mood broke. Jamie was taking no chances on losing his erstwhile Champion and soon-to-be fellow in adversity. James submitted, rolled over and soon had his ankles crossed and bound, none too strictly to his wrists. He turned down Jamie's kind offer to insert that willow stick again.

Jamie was in a generous mood and turned his prisoner so that he was facing the action even if his grandstand view was at a rather low level one and impeded by the summer's growth of what Harry called wild plants and the rest of the boys called weeds.

The Swimming Challenge

Once Jamie and James had returned to the "Mainland", Scott and Harry struggled to their feet and hopped, to the bank. Their Owners saw no reason to spoil their sport by helping them but they did offer to tread on their toes if they overstepped the start line. Jamie finished securing James and turned to face the contestants. "Take your marks, - GO!"

Scott leaped in like a kingfisher with Harry being a bit more circumspect. Scott knew he could beat the garrulous Sea Scout! Harry's experience showed and he simply gradually overtook Scott until he head-butted the shore a good ten seconds before him. Both boys climbed up onto the bank and caught their breath for a few minutes.

"Ohhha Maaan!"

"You Land Farmers won't learn, will you? Didn't you know I was only doing enough to make sure I beat you before?"

"OK, don't rub it in. What's my penalty?"

"Let's wait and see, shall we? I think there's other things to be settled first. I seem to think that I won a certain contest earlier on. Doesn't that mean that I'm about to be untied?" Harry looked expectantly towards the winning Owner.

Post Mortem #4

"Hey, lads, who else is fed up with this Sailor Boy's gob as far as Scouts are concerned?"

"Oh come on, that's not part of the conditions."

"Change the conditions, all in favour?" I don't know how they counted the votes but it seems that there was a majority in favour, including one voter who couldn't raise his arm.

"Aw' righ' aw' righ', but what about him?" Harry nodded desperately towards James, trying to divert attention from himself.

"Fff, oooh, - - I think we can handle both of you." Even Harry was having difficulty shrugging this off having been so near, or so he thought to being granted his freedom.

"And there's that forfeit for losing the scavenger hunt as well, don't forget."

Harry sighed and his shoulders sagged as much as his bonds would allow. This required some quick thinking before the others took to the obvious recourse of gagging him. He could already see James trying, without success, to avoid the willow stick again. Oh well, nothing ventured . . .

Just before Aiden managed to locate the stress ball again and offer it up to Harry's mouth, he made his best play. "Listen, no, listen just for a minute and, if you don't like my proposition, you can do what you like."

"Tell me, Aiden, can't we already do what we like in any case?"

"Do you know, Jamie, I that believe we can. What do you think, George?"

"No, but listen, honest, you'll like this."

"You've got thirty seconds. Time him, Jamie." Aiden knelt on one knee with the stress ball at the ready.

"Well, what we got for dinner?"

"What does that have to do with anything?"

"No, listen, how do you fancy some nice fresh fish?"

"Twenty seconds."

"No fishing rods."

"Don't need 'em."

"Huh?"

"Just give me enough time to explain and I'll get you a fresh fish supper."

Jamie held the countdown and Aiden held the ball still. This sounded like too good an offer to refuse and it would even provide a good excuse for torturing Harry even more if he was bullshitting.

Harry explained and the others (including Scott), accepted his offer.

"But that should only go for the scavenger hunt. He's still got to pay for dissing our Scout Troop."

"Yea but we can do both of them two at once." James knew there was no point arguing his case, especially now he was sporting that willow gag once more and Harry spent some time weighing up the advisability of arguing any further. Once he'd considered his situation, he decided that it wasn't because Jamie was certainly right about his tormentors being able to do whatever they wanted to him in any case.

Aiden gave him time to think then made the offer. "Deal?"

"Deal!" Normally a deal would be settled with a handshake or a mutual hand-slap but that wouldn't have been easy for Harry so Aiden sealed the deal with a little slap round Harry's head.

Harry thought he'd push his luck. "Scott owes me a forfeit, how do I know that you bastards won't let him go until I've done my time?"

Almost in unison, Aiden, Jamie, George and even Scott answered "Scout's Honour". That was good enough for Harry but James rather wished that he could have his word of honour respected like that. Nevertheless, to paraphrase a Russian diplomat, "Yes, trust but certify". and no one made a move to release Scott. He didn't seem to mind and had crawled across to sit against the keep.

"'T's aw right, use that belt on my feet if the Sailor Boy insists." Harry didn't but George could take a hint. It didn't look as though anybody had won anything by the time all three Champions were sitting side by side with their ankles crossed and strapped up tightly once more. Harry was chomping on the stress ball 'just to be fair to James' but Scott had kept quiet; even he thought he deserved a gag off for good behaviour and, in any case, he might have some suggestions to make concerning the treatment of his fellows.

Procrastinate Now!

OK, so everything had been assessed and some key decisions had been reached. However, Aiden, Jamie and George were getting itchy fingers, they REALLY wanted to persuade James of the error of his ways so it was decided to delay the decision about how Aiden and James were to pay for losing the overall challenge until later. It made sense, of course it did. That way Harry would have paid his debt to society and could be freed to deal with Scott. Perfect: fair and logical - and they got to torment James immediately.

"Jamie?"

"Yeah?"

"You know those Speedos?" George indicated James, who immediately became keen to hear what was being said.

"You want them back?"

"Nah, only got them for the blonde gob-shite."

"Well, . . ." George made a proposition. James didn't like what he was hearing.

TBC