Stories of Tie Up Games

There were illustrations made by Cinched but there were problems with the Purity Police when they were originally posted on Bondwriter's old site. The only reason I saw them was because [mention]Jason Toddman[/mention] was watching and noted me that he was adding them at the time. They didn't stay up for long. When some were posted on DA, some "person" complained and they were removed, even the one of Jamie being kidnapped! When I tried again on the "old site", Cinched asked me very nicely to remove them. I have no way of contacting him now, he seems to be using a different name.

This story is amazing! Fortunately I found a few alternatives to get my fix during hiatus, but this is what I keep coming back to look for! Nice update, and dying for the twins to get involved when they return to the games.

Thank you, [mention]Werdify[/mention], that makes me feel good.

I wonder whether you would care to share the source of your comfort during the hiatus?

The bet was on: Alex v Action Man – David v Goliath. Alex needed to restrain Scott for more than two hours if he was to win and avoid the inevitable consequences.

Action man saw the fly in the ointment: Scott had already been restrained for several hours. He wouldn’t have the strength that he would have had earlier. He was also acknowledged as the most enthusiastic victim in their tie up games. Then inspiration struck.

Action Man put his mouth close to Scott’s left ear and whispered something. The resultant, “Nga, nga” accompanied by a frantic shaking of the head seemed to be somewhere between despair and genuine terror. Action Man thought it was a job well done.

Alex collected several lengths of rope and approached his previously far from reluctant prisoner. Scott understood that he had to submit to being bound by Alex but now he knew that, after the job was done, he had to make serious efforts to escape.

Alex inspected his subject. He was wearing only briefs. His wrists had been bound and he had been kneeling continuously for about two hours. He had been blindfolded for even longer and had recently been gagged with a rubber ball and surgical tape. Things were looking up for Alex.

Alex needed to make sure that it was HIS tying that kept Scott helpless but it was decided by the audience that the blindfold and gag didn’t need replacing. Alex unhitched Scott’s arms from his neck and untied his wrists.

After a short “mercy” time where the victim was, by general consent, allowed to massage his wrists and neck and stretch his aching arms, Scott’s arms were, once more, drawn behind him palm to palm. Alex wound four rounds of rope carefully round his subject’s wrists, adjusted the tension and knotted them off. He then tightened them using a further two rounds tied across the loops between the victim’s wrists.

He was reasonably happy with the result but knew that he could take no chances. He added a few figure-eight loops above the originals and knotted them off finishing with another turn between the wrists which was then knotted off tightly – twice! Scott was starting to worry about his ability to escape from this skilful, young “ginger’s” rope work.

The final knot left the rope-ends in the correct position for the impending hog-tie.

Alex was now getting a bit cocky and took a chance. “How do you want your rocking horse, gents: Knees together or ankles crossed?”

The audience decided that they wanted a “slim rocking horse”.

“Shit”, thought both Alex and Scott, more ropes to be tied and loosened.

Alex started on his subject’s legs. First a clove hitch around both ankles, pulled tight and, followed by two further loops, tied off and drawn tighter by knotting the rope between the subject’s legs. He then continued up Scott’s legs giving a similar treatment below his knees and another above his knees.

By this stage Scott would have normally been in ecstasies but he couldn’t help thinking about what Action Man had whispered to him.

Alex was now considering whether or not to tie his victim’s elbows but he decided to delay the decision until he’d completed his intended hog-tie. He could always use the technique later if he needed to tighten things up a bit.

Alex threaded one of the free ends of the rope binding Scott’s wrists between his ankles and, having crossed and twined both ends, separated the ends of the rope pulling his subject’s hands so close to his feet that they touched. He put his knee on the unfinished knot pushing Scott’s feet towards his behind thus ensuring that the rope would not slacken. He then returned two more counter loops between wrists and ankles finishing off by tying off the rope above Scott’s wrists and out of range of his supple fingers.

This pulled his subject into a very tight hog-tie. Scott was left rocking on the floor, his belly stretched tight and his back arched. Action Man asked Alex for a demonstration of his “rocking horse” before the clock was started.

Alex put his foot between Scott’s shoulders and forced him to rock forwards, then released him, then repeated the procedure a few times for Sam to video.

The “rocking horse” was greeted with considerable acclaim by the audience and the clock was started.

It now became important to Scott to escape as soon as possible.

He presented a somewhat bizarre sight, not because he was nearly naked and so tightly bound that he could do little more than rock backwards and forwards and from side to side but because, having spent most of the late afternoons of the previous two weeks on the beach, he had an early season suntan. His favourite green board shorts had ensured that the current rocking horse was well tanned all over except for the ghostly pallor of his thighs.

The clock was running and none of the boys had ever seen Scott, a frequent captive, struggle so hard to relieve himself of his captivity. Considering his lack of scope for movement, his wriggling and rocking were spectacular. So were the indecipherable obscenities that failed to penetrate his gag.

Writhing around in front of an open fire could have been dangerous so, every so often, when he had approached too close, one of the Sea Scouts would drag him to safety.

After half an hour, Scott was exhausted and just came to a full stop. Alex asked him if he wanted to submit. It was very tempting. But there would be consequences. After a short rest, the strivings continued.

It was now gone midnight and the Sea Scouts started to drift off to bed. The boys preferred not to sleep in the cottage so two Icelandics were pitched behind the Log Cabin. The Sea Scouts preferred the old fashioned green patrol tents to more modern designs as they had found that they made the frequent tying up of fellow scouts easier (Explanations available later, perhaps). Alex and Action Man stayed to witness the outcome of their bet and T-Boy agreed to stay as referee and to look after his slave. For reasons that will become clear later, all the retirees headed for one of the tents leaving the other one free.

During the brief hiatus Scott had failed to find any looseness in his ropes. He was getting desperate, believing that he had already been restrained for at least an hour.

To cut a long story short, at the end of two hours, Scott was almost as tightly restricted as he was when Alex started the clock. He was hot, sweaty, desperate and exhausted.

The kitchen timer started pinging. “Yes!” – Alex leapt in triumph.

T-Boy smirked. It was about time Action Man had his come-uppance.

Action Man accepted the result and stripped down to his blue and white striped boxer shorts. He knew what was expected.

You're building up suspense here! Bets and things being whispered... Working good as a weekly read, of the "plus ça change moins ça change" kind, which is always good

The ea Scouts. especially, are very fond of making bets.
As for whisperings, surely you would not deny me a few writerly plot devices?

Just being curious as to what can 'frighten' someone so enthousiast as Scott

Perhaps we shall find out soon.

“OK, you two, before you go off to play, just give us a hand putting these two to bed.” T-Boy was talking to Alex and Action Man.

“You can do that,” said the winner of the bet to his newly acquired slave. One of the usual consequences of losing a bet was that the winner got to own the loser as a slave for up to 12 hours. Alex was determined to enjoy this.

The little swimmer was by now not enjoying the way the bags over his head interfered with his breathing, but not enough to be dangerous, merely annoying. Every time he breathed in the inner bag adhered to his face and puffed out again as he exhaled. The overall visual effect as the outer bag echoed its partner was quite comical.

Action Man took Steve’s arm and raised him to his feet. He took him to the base of the library ladder that led up to the sleeping loft still dragging a length of chain behind him. It was decision time: should he make the unfortunate kid climb the ladder by himself or should he carry him? No contest: the hostage could do it for himself.

Little Steve felt his wrists separate as Action Man removed the padlock that had fastened them so closely together. The hostage was then instructed to pass the chain under his backside to bring it round in front of him. This would be useful both in enabling the hostage to climb the ladder and in securing both hostages together later. As his arms came forward, Steve had quite a problem, being blindfolded, in getting all the trailing end of his hobble chain over his shackles. With a certain amount of impatient assistance from Alex’s slave, the feat was soon accomplished.

This left Steve standing at the bottom of a ladder wearing only his swimming shorts, covered in food remains, unable to see and not daring to speak, a 60 cm shackle between his wrists, 30 cms of heavier chain between his ankles with about 4 metres of it trailing on the floor. It was decided that it would be safer if the trailing chain, which was fastened to his right ankle was looped up over Steve’s left shoulder, allowed to dangle in front of him before being passed over his right shoulder, behind his neck, over his left shoulder again and so on until he was wearing a necklace of chain with several strands.

The hostage was told that he was about to climb a ladder. He had noticed the ladder when he was a galley slave and knew what to expect. He was helped to place his hands on the sides of the ladder and was told to feel around for the first step. He was then told, “Climb”. He did so very hesitantly. Action Man wasn’t really that cruel, he followed the prisoner very closely putting his arms around him for support. The top of the ladder reached above the level of the sleeping loft making it easier to dismount.

By now Little Steve was very nervous to say the least. He could feel the top of the ladder under his hands. Action Man reassured him that he was safe and lifted his feet onto the floor of the loft. Steve’s left hand was moved across to join his right hand leaving him standing sideways on the edge of the loft. Action man stepped onto the loft and gathered the now quaking boy and moved him to the centre of the loft and onto his knees.

Steve’s “word of honour” was ignored when his muffled voice was heard saying, “Thank you, thank you.” while the bags on his head billowed out and in.

Acton Man left Steve recovering, he knew better than to try for freedom now. A chained boy could not remove his blindfold and climb down a library ladder before Alex or one of the others could get to him.

It was Scott’s turn. He knew he was safe from Action Man’s threat because Action Man would be Alex’s slave for the next 12 hours.

Action Man decided what he ought to do.

Scott was sweaty and exhausted from his struggles and was still tightly hog-tied, gagged, blindfolded and lying on his side by the fire. His blindfold needed checking because damp gaffer tape has the unfortunate property of coming off a perspiring victim. Action Man picked up the t-shirt which he had just discarded and mopped down Scott’s head, arms, torso and back.

Scott’s reaction when he caught Action Man’s smell, as the t-shirt passed his nose, was interesting. Things were looking up! Even though the black tape was not as secure as it had been, it was obviously fit to stay in place until morning.

Action Man got another chain of the type that shackled Steve’s wrists and threw it up to the loft floor. It landed on Steve who nearly forgot his word of honour again. He then chucked a short rope up flowed by two small padlocks and another short length of rope. Steve started to think he was being used for target practice.

Obviously Scott could not be transferred to the loft in his current state. Action man released his hog-tie and inspected his “client” who, although revelling in being able to stretch out once more, was still bound hand, knee and foot. Even Scott had to be grateful for his release from the hog-tie. Action Man thought Scott would be easier to handle if his legs were less restricted so he undid both sets of ropes around his knees, leaving his ankles fastened firmly together.

Alex’s newly acquired slave then raised Scott to his feet, where he tottered unsteadily, supported by the short, muscular slave. When Scott had steadied a bit on his feet, Action Man released him, quickly ducked and pushed his right shoulder into Scott’s midriff forcing Scott to collapse over his shoulder. What a blast! The nearly naked Scott found himself being carried by, as far as he could tell through the body contact the two boys now had, a possibly naked slave. As his face flopped down towards his porter’s back and a strong right arm enwrapped his legs, Scott inhaled. This confirmed it. Another rush! He was being given a fireman’s lift by the Sea Scout whose prisoner he really wanted to be.

There was much smothered grunting as Action Man took his bundle quickly over to the library steps and started climbing leaving Scott simply balanced over his broad right shoulder. “Not a good time to wriggle, really.” thought the contented prisoner.

“Later”, whispered the slave into his right ear, as Scott was lowered to the floor of the loft, just to remind Scott of what he had said to him earlier. It was difficult to tell whether the resultant whimper was one of pleasure or dread!

Scott was laid on his belly next to Little Steve, and Action Man removed the rope from his ankles and threw it over the edge of the loft. Scott was then hobbled using the shorter and rather harder rope that had previously been thrown up into the loft. His hands were untied and he was made to sit back to back with Little Steve. His hands were forced between Steve’s arms and his body and his arms bent forwards so that both boys were linked at the elbows. Action Man fastened one end of the small-linked chain, none too tightly round Scott’s right wrist, passed it across to his left wrist, having drawn his hands closer together in front of him and completed the shackle.

Little Steve was still kneeling, his legs still chained and still wearing his heavy chain “necklace”. The slave lifted off the coils from around his neck and undid the padlocks hobbling his ankles. Much relieved, Steve was then told to move his legs from under him and to sit down. There was then quite a lot of mutual wriggling as the hostages adjusted their relative positions. Steve was then hobbled with the other short piece of hard rope.

Neither boys’ chains were tightly fastened but they were tight enough to be inescapable. There was a little scope for movement and there should have been no real pain unless the hostages insisted upon struggling.

This was not a comfortable pose to sleep in!

T-Boy joined the other three boys on the loft and thought he ought to explain the situation. They were over two metres above the flag-stoned section of the floor. There was no rail round the edge of the loft and the ladder would be removed. They should be warm enough due to the heat from the log fire feeding through the open front of the loft. He suddenly ripped Scott’s tape gag from his mouth, which caused quite a harrowing squeal even though the rubber ball was still in place, and then helped him expel the ball. Scott was left with the typical raw, red mark round his mouth. No water was offered.

The tall Sea Scout explained that he was going to sleep downstairs for various reasons and that, if he was kept awake by hearing either of them speaking or rattling their chains, they would both find themselves in a hanging spread-eagle gagged with rubber balls and the clothing they were currently wearing.

“Or should we do that now?” Both boys shook their heads.

T-Boy and Action Man climbed down the ladder and the slave removed the ladder and rested it against a wall well away from the loft. Alex, who had been relaxing with some hot chocolate, snapped his fingers and signalled his slave to approach.

The hostages decided to move as little as possible.

Once Alex and his slave had left and he could hear soft snoring from T-Boy, Scott took the chance, “You OK?” he whispered.

“I’ll live. ‘Night”

“’Night.”





Action Man was always in demand as the best tier-up in the Troop, but he didn’t think he always got his fair share of being tied up. He was only 168 cm tall but had muscles that made him look like the Action Man doll. He was proud of his BMI which indicated that he carried less than 10% body fat. His upper arms were slightly shorter than normal, accentuating his biceps; and his hair colour was a sort of brown that took red tinges in certain lights. In spite of always seeming to be bare-chested when hiking or camping, he was, in his own London accent, “pey-aw”. In spite of the tough-guy image he projected, Tony (If his dad ever called him Anthony, he knew he was in big trouble!) was basically a shy boy with impeccable manners in company. He was also worryingly fond of pain!

T-Boy started laying out his lightweight sleeping bag in front of the fire, which he built up a bit before retiring, and tried to ignore Alex, who was preparing his slave for his forthcoming imprisonment. T-Boy stripped down to his blue mini-briefs (to which Sam always referred as his “speedo pants”) and climbed into his sleeping bag.

Alex was relaxing upon a sofa and ordered his slave to collect his own sleeping bag, a long length of the kind of chain that had been used on the hostages’ hands, several rolls of gaffer tape, five small padlocks and any leather belts that he could find in the “toy box”. He had obviously been planning! The slave took a precautionary piss against a tree when he went out to the stores and then brought back the items requested by his master. As so often happened, Action Man had forgotten his own sleeping bag so he had to borrow one of the Troop’s four-season bags. Not a good idea!

Alex gave the order that Action Man was to face him, sit on the floor and use two of the padlocks to fasten his own ankles as closely together as possible and then to turn his back and kneel down because he couldn’t be bothered to stand up to chain his wrists. Action Man probably chained himself much more tightly than he would have fastened anyone else. Dutifully getting to his knees and turning his back, the slave offered his hands behind him for treatment. Alex carefully adjusted the length of the chain between his slave’s ankles and his left wrist. He passed a padlock twice through the chain, holding the wrist securely but not over-tightly. “Bugger”, thought Action Man, he was hoping for the cuff to be much tighter. Just to show off, Alex then passed the same padlock twice more through the chain fastening Action Man’s wrists closely together.

It seemed to Action Man that he had been allowed a lot of slack between his wrists and his ankles and he was wondering why his protégée should have allowed this. Alex continued his work, whistling tunelessly to himself all the time. He brought the chain up and round his captive’s neck and round once more. He then passed the padlock through the chain leading up the victim’s back, loosened the loop round his neck and passed the padlock through that and once more through the chain as it was brought down. This left Action Man with his arms fairly straight and a non-slip, but inescapable, loop round his neck. Alex finished off by padlocking the chain to the loop round Action Man’s wrists.

“Right, let’s try it out.” said Alex as he took hold of the chain in front of his slave’s neck. He lifted his slave to his feet. That’s when Tony understood. He couldn’t quite straighten his legs!

The increasingly immobilised boy was allowed to kneel again.

He was then made to lie on his back while his master used many rounds of gaffer tape both above and below his knees, drawing them very tightly together.

“O Kaaaay, it’s maggot tiiiime!” Alex stretched Action Man’s borrowed sleeping bag out on the floor and unzipped it. He ordered his captive to get onto it. He did so with some difficulty, the sleeping bag was zipped up and the mummy hood fastened leaving just the occupant’s face showing.

Alex got the black gaffer tape and wrapped it tightly several times round the light blue sleeping bag, trapping Action Man’s ankles. He repeated the procedure around where he adjudged his maggot’s waist to be. That trapped his wrists against his body, the chain not allowing much avoidance. One more repeat at elbow level and another between elbows and shoulder completed the transformation from Action Man into maggot.

The mummified boy was hauled to his feet but, of course, he couldn’t stand straight and had to crouch in a very uncomfortable posture. Alex fastened a leather belt round the maggot’s neck and another, quite tightly, round his waist

“Torture time!” announced Alex triumphantly, “- But not yet!”

Action Man thought admiringly that the delayed, “Not yet!” was a piece of evil worthy of GP, especially as Alex was not renowned as an early riser. Action Man was determined to enjoy this!

Alex made his maggot hold a torch in his mouth to light their way to the unoccupied Icelandic. He then hooked his hand into the already tight belt round his slave’s waist and led him out to the tent. This was really difficult for the maggot, who could not really stand properly and who had to jump all the way out of the door and round to the back of the building. It seemed to take forever.

Alex then gave his prisoner permission to spit out the torch and made him lie down. More of a crash than a controlled dive ensued. “On your back.” Action Man did so, his knees slightly in the air. “Lights out!” Now all that could be seen of the prisoner was his face with a layer of surgical tape pressed closely into his eye sockets. Action Man would really have liked to have been gagged overnight but he couldn’t bring himself to ask and, anyway, it was against the rules.

Alex then stripped down to his tight, red “Urbanspirit” boxer briefs and climbed into his sleeping bag which, unlike Action Man’s, was unzipped and comfortably positioned on two therma-rests. “Thanks for the extra mattress, Maggot. Sleep tight. See you in the morning.”

All those chains...
And now that we've learned interesting info about Action-man, I'm really looking forward to see him spending some time with Scott.

Merely the efficient use of limited resources, I assure you.

I'm still not sure why Scott doesn't seem to be showing his usual enthusiasm. Perhaps we'll all find out soon(ish).

Xtc wrote: 6 years ago Merely the efficient use of limited resources, I assure you.

You've got a thing for chains and padlocks... no need to find excuses that won't even save you from me extrapolating endless theories about that
And keeping suspense over a few posts is fair practise for long stories, anticipation is half of the fun ( at least...).

The value of pi isnt a physical constant. Its mathematical and could be calculated in any universe with the concept of flat space?.

webalekfed wrote: 6 years ago The value of pi isnt a physical constant. Its mathematical and could be calculated in any universe with the concept of flat space?.

How is this relevant to the story? By the way, pi is a trancendental number (not a root of a polynomial) representing the ratio of the circumference to the diameter of a circle. It can also be represented as the limit of a simple convergent series. It is simply an irrational number.

Thanks for all the recent visits to this story.
Here's the next bit.

T-Boy got his name by always being the first up and brewing up as soon as he could. He was a disgrace to teenage-kind and liked to rise by five-thirty but he thought that, as it was already well into the small hours, he might take a lie in tomorrow.

He set his phone for six-thirty and quickly drifted off in spite of the treatment that Alex was dishing out to Action Man.

It had been a bit of a trying night for the two hostages. They had got no sleep and, being blindfolded, had no idea of the passage of time. It had been impossible to relax because, every time one boy sagged forwards, the other one was pulled backwards pulling the former up short and denying either boy the opportunity to drop off.

At the horribly early hour of six-thirty, sounds could be heard as T-Boy hooked the library ladder to the track along the edge of the loft. He thought he didn’t have much time to spare so he was in a hurry to move the hostages downstairs before starting to prepare breakfast. He enjoyed being the cook and it meant that he was expected to perform no other duties whatsoever.

The Sea Scouts didn’t usually apply cable ties directly to their prisoners’ flesh because, even if they weren’t tied too tightly, (an easy thing to do accidentally) they tended to cut into the victims unnecessarily. They had also seen how easily Action Man, Alex and T-Boy could simply break ties that had been applied to their wrists, whether fastened in front or behind. They did, however, keep a variety of heavy duty ones which were supposed to be used for securing tent poles but which were more commonly used for tightening the ropes that already bound their prisoners.

Being in a hurry T-Boy grabbed a roll of gaffer tape and a handful of assorted cable ties and climbed up to the loft. He told the hostages that he was going to get them ready for breakfast while he had time.

Scott felt two cable ties being fastened round each wrist and the chain round his left arm being released. He was then “unlaced” from Little Steve who slumped forward with a relieved “OOHH!” T-Boy finished removing Scott’s chain and, forcing him to bend forwards, slipped a further cable tie through the ones already in place drawing Scott’s wrists fairly close together behind him. This tie was reinforced with yet another one; T-Boy knew that he himself could break single ties and he was taking no chances. Little Steve was unchained and cable tied in the same fashion.

Both boys, now separate once more, enjoyed a brief lie down and a wriggle to get their aching bodies loosened up.

T-Boy lifted Scott to a seated position once more and then started loosening the end of the gaffer tape (the traditional silver stuff this time) from the roll. He applied about half a dozen rounds to Scott’s lower face, muzzling him. Scott lay down again.

Steve heard movement towards him. He was forced into a seated position and heard more tape being unravelled. He felt tape being wrapped tightly round the bags that covered his head at eye level. He heard and felt the original tape fastening the outer bag round his neck being stripped off. The outer bag was then lifted to allow T-Boy to undo the draw-string holding the inner bag in place. Both bags were then furled up leaving Steve’s mouth and nose free at last with the recently added tape keeping him blindfolded. Steve enjoyed his first few easy breaths for hours.

On hearing more tape being pulled from the roll, he panicked. He had this dread of having tape gags stripped from his face.

“Permission to speak, My Master”, Steve made his most humble and desperate plea; which was granted. “I know you’re going to gag me but, please not with gaffer tape. Couldn’t you use the gag I wore when I was delivered?” T-Boy thought for a few seconds and then returned to the floor of the Log Cabin, collected a neckerchief and picked up the padded stick from the mantle-piece where it had been left. Returning to the loft he ordered Steve to open his mouth and pushed the stick well back, holding it into place.

“Spit this out and it’s back to tape.” growled the gaoler. Steve made no attempt to expel the gag when the restraining hand was removed. T-Boy took the neckerchief and wrapped it round the back of Steve’s neck draping it over the ends of the stick. The two hanging ends were then brought round under the stick and returned to the back of Little Steve’s neck. T-Boy then knotted the ends of the neckerchief as tightly as he could. The gag was drawn tightly enough into the wearer’s mouth as witnessed by the resultant, “Nnnng!”, but it was not as painful as when Zac had originally tied it into place using a thin chord.

As you know, there were many recycled things in the Log Cabin. One of the more eccentric items was an old fashioned fire escape of the type that used to be found in student hostels in the 1960’s. It consisted of a circular drum about one metre across which was fastened securely to the wall. Wrapped round the drum was a pair of slings, each large enough to hold a person, connected together by a stout rope. If a person climbed into one of the slings and stepped off the loft, heavy counter-weights extended as they spun within the drum slowing the passenger’s descent. The other sling was, simultaneously raised to loft level.

Having previously been “guests” of the Sea Scouts both of the Land Farmer Hostages were aware of the device. Otherwise what T-Boy did to them could have been really terrifying. Imagine being launched off the loft platform whist being restrained without knowing that you would be delivered safely to the ground!

Steve was taken over to the fire escape and the sling was passed downwards between his arms. He was forced to step backwards into the sling which fitted so that it went up in front of his chest, passing under his armpits with the joined bit that attaches to the rope more or less behind his skull. T-Boy warned Steve to force his arms downwards and grip with his biceps if he wanted to be comfortable. He then launched the smaller of his hostages into the air and watched him float gently to the ground. That could have been fun if Steve hadn’t been cable tied, hooded and gagged.

Having climbed down to release Little Steve from the sling, T-Boy returned for Scott and subjected him to the same treatment. Scott enjoyed it.

There were two very substantial wooden bar-chairs, more re-cycled items, which had long ago been bolted firmly together back to back for restraint purposes, on which T-Boy intended to seat his prisoners. They were useful because two prisoners could be tied up at once and, being taller and thus less laterally stable than ordinary chairs, too much struggling easily resulted in their tipping over leaving the occupants in a very painful situation. They were also too tall for the restrained victims’ feet to reach the floor.

Scott was lifted onto one of the chairs and T-Boy quickly drew his, already hobbled, ankles sideways towards the front legs with cable ties. The cable ties were fastened above a spar connecting the front legs to the back. Sliding off the seat would leave the prisoner helpless on his chest with his feet in the air. That would be good enough to hold Scott while he collected Steve and seated him on the other chair and drew his ankles towards the chair legs. It was now that Steve wished he had made a different plea before he was gagged. He was desperate for a pee.

T-Boy then cut the cable ties joining the hostages’ wrists together leaving their arms hanging by their sides. He took two more cable ties and looped one of them through the ties round Scott’s right wrist and those round Steve’s left wrist. A quick pull drew the two boys’ wrists very closely towards one another. The same was done at the other side of the chair before an extra tie was added to each side as reinforcements. Two further ties were added forcing each boy’s right elbow up against his friend’s left one. Just one more item to add: T-Boy fastened a long, thick leather strap tightly round both boys’ waists, passing it between the vertical spars of the chair-backs. This brought them close to one another and prevented their slipping forwards. It also made Steve wonder how much longer he could hold it.

He started trying to shout through his gag nodding frantically towards his crutch whilst T-Boy was considering adding a belt joining their necks. He decided to do so.

T-Boy checked on Steve’s distress. Did he want to beg to be released? He shook his head; the shame and consequences were unthinkable. Was he tied up too tightly? Much more head shaking. Did he need a piss? He nodded enthusiastically or at least as enthusiastically as he could with the strap connecting his neck to Scott’s.

“Sorry, Farmer Boy, I’d have to release both of you and I’m not going to do that until there’s somebody else around.”

Steve’s heart sank, he tried to keep very still and he hoped Scott would too! Every time Scott moved Steve whimpered as he thought he would wet himself.

Easy pee breaks: another good reason to use tighteners with hooks
Back and forth between different groups of characters make that small cabin seem like a whole little world...

It has certainly seen plenty of action.
I can't help noticing that the nearest residents have had the official approach path diverted away from their property.

At only about half past seven there was an unprecedented occurrence. Alex appeared at the door. He brought his maggot with him.

It was, as you know, a late May day. The days were very warm and sunny but the nights were still sometimes chilly but not chilly enough to warrant a four-season sleeping bag.

Alex made his maggot jump all the way from their overnight tent to the front door (let’s face it: the only door) of the Log Cabin. Having been denied water on the previous night because Alex didn’t particularly want his captive to wet himself, Action Man was now desperate. He didn’t need to micturate but, because he had sweated so much, he was dehydrated and didn’t need a piss in any case.

The maggot had to jump across the threshold and into the building. He then had the mouth-piece of a camel-pack placed in his mouth. The tube was attacked with determination by the parched, mummified boy. He still managed to observe the rules about not speaking.


OK, I suppose an explanation is in order. Both Troops enjoyed tying up games both inter-troop and within their own Troops. Several rules were inviolate.
• Word of Honour (Scout’s Honour) was to be honoured and respected.
• Anyone who gave the accepted emergency signal (even possible if the subject was gagged) was to be un-gagged immediately. The signal was a rhythmic noise which could be made vocally, by finger flicking or by tapping on anything available. /Xxx, X--/Xxx, X--/Xxx, X --/. (For the musicians, the rhythm is six-eight. For the rest of us, it’s like when the Master was becoming – even more – unhinged in Dr. Who, just before “Here Come the Drums”)
• Anyone whom the captors suspected to be in need of relief could be asked, “Tell me your name.” A prisoner who didn’t need releasing should remain silent and shake his head. Any other response would indicate the need for release.
• No one was to be gagged overnight unless someone agreed to stay awake to guard them. Word of Honour not to cry out comes in here. Mind you, once gags were in place, anything went.
As I have written previously, most of the boys were the best of friends but they enjoyed their games. So anyone who violated the rules would be totally ostracised because, without them, the games could not safely proceed.


T-Boy pointed out that Steve was in distress and asked Alex to help out because he was preparing breakfast for everyone. Alex ordered his maggot onto his belly in front of the fire. Whether that was deliberate cruelty or whether he thought that the mat was the most comfortable surface is debatable. Action Man felt the heat of the fire on his face (his only exposed surface) and started trying to roll away. Every so often during his next task, Alex dragged him back.

Little Steve was now dreading any movement. Alex cut the cable ties joining the two hostages’ wrists and arms. He then used two more cable ties to fasten their wrists in front of them. Steve was quivering, trying not to let go. The strap between their necks was removed but, even worse for Little Steve, so was the belt joining the captives together at the waist. He nearly disgraced himself.

Alex removed the cable ties drawing Steve’s ankles towards the legs of his chair but still leaving him hobbled. Steve sighed meaningfully as he brought his legs together. He thought that he just might get away with it.

It might seem that Scott was free to escape but the consequences of slipping off the chair have already been explained. But just to make sure, Alex padlocked Scott’s wrists to a deliberately placed eye that had been screwed into the front of the substantial seat. This caused Scott to crouch, shoulders hunched, in a somewhat uncomfortable pose but at least his arms would stop him slipping off the chair.

“Hang on a minute, Kid”, said Alex as he left the hostages and dragged his slowly escaping maggot across the floor and back to his appointed place in front of the fire.

He went back to Little Steve, eased him down from the chair and guided him, hooded cuffed and hobbled as he was to the door. Steve felt that each step was draining him drop by drop. “OK, let go”, said Alex as soon as he had got Steve clear of the path. Steve frantically undid the waist tie of his swimming shorts and desperately tried to lower them. Too Late! Just as he released himself the explosion was uncontrolled!

Alex couldn’t figure out whether the sigh that escaped his gag was one of relief or one of shame.

Steve had managed to wet the inside of his shorts, his legs, random bits of vegetation and the outside of his shorts quite comprehensively.

Little Steve was devastated. It would have been easy to submit and beg for release.

“Don’t worry, it’s happened to all of us – and there’s no photos”, reassured Alex. “Come on, pull ‘em up. Let’s go back.

Steve hung his head and allowed himself to be led, shuffling miserably, back into the Cabin.

Alex told Steve that he would arrange for his swimming shorts to be laundered. He untied Steve’s hobble but, being hooded with the tent bags, Steve was, to say the least, unsure of what was about to happen to him.

Alex found two sleeping bag liners from stores. He was sure that Scott would be in need as well.

Alex wrestled Little Steve to the floor. He lifted the hostage’s feet and started pulling the cotton liner up round his legs, forcing it under his bum, forcing his bound arms inside it and raising it to shoulder level.

“OK, you’re decent. Get ‘em off.”

This would have made one of Sam’s best ever videos. What a pity he was still throwing up the zeds.

Steve struggled to remove his shorts; a very entertaining sight - unless you were the subject. The victim’s head was enclosed by two tent bags and his body was enclosed by another linen bag. There was little evidence that the protagonist was human. After about five minutes Steve managed to produce his shorts over the top of the sleeping bag liner.

Steve’s bound wrists and his arms were now free from the linen liner which had fallen to his waist still protecting his modesty. Alex lifted Steve back onto his chair, wrapped four turns of rope tightly round his ankles and tied off the rope. Steve’s ankles were then attached firmly to the cross bar of the chair. The strap that originally pulled the two hostages closer to one another was fastened round Little Steve’s arms just below his elbows and pulled very tight. Steve was thus unable to reach his gag.

By now Scott had worn the same underpants (and usually only his underpants) for more than 24 hours and was getting a bit ripe so Alex & T-Boy decided that his “costume” should also be washed.

Scott was unusual in that, when other lads wore shorts in the shower, he would always be proudly naked claiming the he had “nothing to be ashamed of.” Alex removed his hobble and unlocked his wrists from the front of the chair. T-Boy explained what was about to happen and Scott started trying to remove his briefs without waiting to be put into the liner. Eventually Scott was left sitting on the floor minus his garish garment. Alex helped him into the second sleeping bag liner, lifted him onto his chair and tied his ankles to the cross bar.

The strap round Little Steve’s body was unbuckled and replaced round both the hostages’ waists and between the spars of the chair backs, drawing the two boys close together once more. A smaller, wide strap was fitted round the hostages’ necks pulling their heads together and making it very difficult to look down. Alex was now ready to start on their arms.

He didn’t want to keep the cable ties in place because of the way they dig in to a victim’s wrists so he cut them off and got two lengths of soft rope.

“Excuse me, Lads. Back in a sec.” Alex once more went across the room and dragged the reluctant Action Man back to his appointed place.

“I’m back.” Alex started practicing his knots again. A clove hitch fastened Scott’s right wrist to Steve’s left one, two more coils were added and tightly knotted. Alex judged that, with what he was about to do, that would be sufficient. Steve’s right wrist was fastened to Scott’s left in a similar fashion. Another clove hitch held Scott’s right elbow to Steve’s left and two more rounds were added and pulled tight by passing a turn of rope between the two elbows. This was Alex’s favourite way to start. He wasn’t content to leave their elbows like that because he could see that, with sufficient wriggling, the hostages could probably loosen the ropes so he added a couple more turns round the individual elbows, knotting them off individually before tying the ends of the rope together.





Now Alex could pay his maggot the attention he deserved. Action man had spent the night chained and blindfolded in a very warm sleeping bag. He had then been wrapped around with gaffer tape and leather straps. He was sweating like a pig and being positioned in front of the fire made him feel psychosomatically even worse. He could feel the lining of his sleeping bag clinging to his body even at the points where Alex had not taped him tightly.

Alex decided that his prisoner should be gagged, just to be unpleasant, but he wanted his squeals of pain when he was tortured later to be audible. He noticed a wide leather belt that Action Man had previously brought in from the “toy box”. It was a very substantial belt about 3 cm wide. Alex had an idea. He made his maggot kneel facing him.

Alex undid the drawstring of the sleeping bag exposing Action Man’s grade 4 haircut plastered against his skull with sweat except for a silly standing-up bit where the hood had dragged against his hair. Alex took the belt and passed it over his victim’s head, crossed it in front, leaving two layers in Action Man’s mouth. Being blindfolded, Action Man didn’t know what was coming and put up no resistance, not that he probably would have done in any case. He uttered a few, “Aa uun” noises more out of courtesy than anything else! Alex fastened the belt off round the back of the victim’s neck. He then replaced the hood of the sleeping bag and fastened it again.

Action man was pushed onto his belly once more but his imprecations were totally indecipherable.

T-Boy announced that it was time for the hostages’ breakfast. The Sea Scouts would awake to a fry-up later but that wasn’t for hostages. T-Boy had made porridge but he did put a welcome amount of brown sugar on it and had added some sultanas.

“OK, you get the mucky job.” said T-boy indicating to Alex that he was to feed Little Steve while he fed Scott. Alex removed Steve’s gag and a relieved small boy exercised his aching jaw. Alex had to keep the bags hooding his “guest” out of the way during the feeding process. Steve was fed spoonfuls of the oats, some of which went where it was supposed to go but a generous amount went down his chest, across his face and on the sleeping bag liner which constituted his only clothing.

After a pained intake of breath following the sudden removal of his muzzle, Scott ate far more efficiently. Maybe that was because he was more used to being imprisoned. Both boys were given water from the camel-pack before their gags were replaced.

Alex offered the padded wooden gag to Steve’s face so that he could feel it. “Do you want this again or do you want the ball and tape this time?” Steve opened his mouth. Alex secured the gag with the neckerchief but he didn’t really tie it as tightly as he could have done. It was, however, tight enough to prevent Steve expelling it easily with his tongue.

Scott got the usual treatment. Rubber ball in. Three layers of tape round his head. Playful taps on both cheeks.

By now the rest of the boys were starting to drift in. Sam realised that no one had been jumped in the night and thought, “Things are slipping, just because we had a really late night. We must be getting old.”

The smell of bacon and sausages wafted from the galley as the Sea Scouts settled to their coco-pops and milk. “How do you want your eggs, Boys?” There was a consensus for scrambled, T-Boy did them very well! A few fried mushrooms and tomatoes (not for Den, too much like health food!) completed the feast. All washed down with gourmet Coke; that would set them up for the day. Evan decided that to waste the extra sausages and rashers of bacon would be sinful so Den and he took all steps to avoid sin.

Action Man couldn’t help noting that he wasn’t offered any breakfast.

Alex announced that it was torture time and lifted his slave from the floor by the strap round his neck. He thought that one of the words he heard might have been “bastard” but it was impossible to tell because of the belt that he had fastened into Action Man’s mouth. “Oh, isn’t it tight enough? So sorry.” And, where the belt had settled, Alex managed to tighten it another notch after undoing the hood of the sleeping bag. Now he was sure that one word was “bastard” but was another one “ginger”?

The belt forced Action Man’s jaws wide open and, although it rendered him unintelligible, his shouts were not particularly muffled. He wondered why he hadn’t thought of the technique before Alex did. He was beginning to wonder how he was going to persuade this red-haired guy to imprison him for a whole weekend soon.

Alex had his prisoner standing with his knees bent, unable to straighten them due to the chain between his ankles and his wrists. He removed the belts round the maggot’s neck and waist, cut the gaffer tape from his ankles, waist and arms and un-zipped the sleeping bag. Rivulets of sweat were still running down Action Man’s body and his sweat-darkened boxers were now providing very little privacy as they clung tightly to his body. His whole muscular body seemed to heave a sigh of relief.

Alex allowed his prisoner a few moments on his knees to recover before taking hold of the chain round his neck and making him bunny-hop out of the door, round to the back of the building and left him standing against a tree that Action Man guessed was the large oak near the back fence. The cool was so welcome that he couldn’t really care what was about to happen to him.

Alex got a length of rope and threaded it between Action Man’s elbows and round the back of the tree. Tying it off left the victim’s arms tightly clamped to the oak. Another rope tied around both Acton Man’s neck and the tree stopped him leaning forward. That was important for what was to come. Finally, Alex undid the padlocks around Action Mans ankles that were stopping him straightening his legs. Relief at last! Or . . .

Alex took more rope and started as usual with a clove hitch and two further turns tied around his victim’s right ankle. He brought the rope round the back of the tree and applied more knotting to the left ankle, having pulled Action Mans legs just about as far apart as possible.

Now Alex was sure: one word was “ginger”, another was “bastard” but what could the one be that sounded like “U’ing”?

The release of the chain between Action Man’s ankles and his wrists allowed a welcome bit of arm movement but Alex had taken that into account. He inserted a stick in the back of the rope between his victim’s arms, gave it two twists, tightening his arms up again. He then hooked the stick a few times into the ropes to hold it in place.

Action man could take no evasive measures at all. That was what Alex wanted.

Alex could be heard unpacking something and shortly afterwards Action man felt something solid being fastened over his head, it was obviously some sort of helmet. When he felt the visor go down he was pretty sure he knew what sort it was! As Alex continued his preparations, the noises fell into place.

“Oh, crap!” Action Man was now starting to get excited and he knew that his boxers were providing no privacy whatsoever.

Alex invited the other boys to witness the “Fate of all Tyrants”. That might have been a bit over-blown but he was enjoying himself.

So was a totally embarrassed Action Man.

The noises were Alex preparing his paint-ball gun.

Shot one: straight into the left nipple. A pleasing, breathless scream came from the victim. “Christ”, thought Action Man, “I hope this kid’s a good shot”. He didn’t want to receive anything too low!

Shot two: not quite so good, just missed right nipple. A pleasing squeal escaped the belt in the target’s mouth. Alex now thought he’d figured out the meaning of the “U’ing” word.

Shot three: straight to the belly button. By this stage shall we say that Action Man’s still damp boxers no longer clung quite so tightly to the front of his upper thighs as they had a few minutes previously.

Alex then announced that he would mark his target so that everyone could better appreciate his marksmanship. He got a marker pen and drew three respectably accurate concentric circles centred on Action Man’s solar plexus. He also drew two eyes on his blindfold just for fun. “I shall shoot until I score 30”, the showman announced, 3 for an inner, 2 for the next and 1 for an outer.”

Action Man made that at least 10 more shots. Yes, Alex was now sure about that word.

More shots were fired and Alex announced the scores as each shot hit. Then he sent one deliberately a little low. “Oops! Sorry.” That word again!

“And to finish: two more nipple shots!” Alex was as good as his word.

The almost totally immobile target was left covered in paint and quite considerably bruised. He was now even more determined than ever to get Alex to own him for a whole weekend. But he knew that it would be better to play along. . .

Alex announced that he would leave his latest artwork to dry in the sun even though he had been in the shadow cast by the canopy of the oak tree throughout and would continue to be so. A further unintelligible string of imprecations escaped from Action Man’s mouth. “Naughty, naughty”, said his tormentor, “You know what happens to little boys who use words like that”. With that he clipped a red and a green bulldog clip onto his frantically wriggling victim’s nipples. The searing pain didn’t help Action Man to be any easier to understand but I think everyone got the drift.

“No, sorry, that’s not right; you look like a ship with them on your tits”. Action Man was almost disappointed to have the clips removed so quickly but he couldn’t afford to show it. “That’s better!” A further searing pain shot through Action Man’s body as Alex replaced the bulldog clips with two matching yellow ones. His aesthetic requirements having been satisfied, Alex left his prisoner to suffer. But not in silence!

The target knew that he had until three o’clock before he was free and seriously doubted that even he could endure the pain of the nipple clips for that long. Alex removed them after about 5 minutes. He also untied his ankles but Action Man could still not really stand straight. The release of the stick pulling his elbows tight to the tree allowed the prisoner a certain freedom of movement and he gradually worked the rope further up the trunk of the tree until he could stand more comfortably. He still had a long wait.

Not a lot happened for a while.

Alex got some hot water from the boiler and washed out Steve’s shorts and Scott’s briefs in the Belfast sink. He rinsed them under the outside tap. They could dry by the fire. Have you ever noticed that Scouts of any sort will keep a fire going whether or not it is really needed? T-Boy had no intention of preparing lunch; they could send out for pizzas. So he took his sleeping bag off to Alex’s vacant Icelandic to get some shut-eye.

Sam, Alex, Evan, Den, and GP had some time to spare. They decided to play Monopoly. GP got up occasionally and drew the back of his thumbnail from the hostages’ chins down to just below their navels. That made them tense their muscles in anticipation of further torments to come. Other than that, things got a bit quiet.

Following their retirement in the early hours of the morning, no one was in a hurry to start anything energetic.

Come about 11 o’clock Sam decided it was time to get things done: There were 20 trangias to be cleaned, the cubs never left them clean enough for T-Boy’s liking and they couldn’t leave their hostages tied to chairs clad only in linen bags all day.

Sam explained that two slaves were needed: one to clean the stoves and one to prepare the “guest quarters”. Paper Scissors & Stone came into play again. The winner got to prepare the guest quarters, the loser went on KP. Neither hostage wanted to be on KP!

Sam took the role of umpire. “Use your right hands. Ready: one, two, three.” On “three” Scott made a fist and Steve extended two fingers. “Stone blunts scissors.” Little Steve slumped dejectedly. The thought of being chained to the sink again and washing all those greasy stoves was not appealing. This could be three hours work on top of having to clean the breakfast things.

By now Scott’s briefs were dry and Alex decided that Steve’s shorts, being swimming trunks, were designed to get wet in any case so it wouldn’t matter if they were still somewhat damp.

Even in the best tie-up situations there will be a hiatus so I’ll skim over the next bit and get on with the more interesting aspects of the story.

Asked whether they would give their word of honour not to try to escape over the next half hour or whether they wanted it the “hard way”, both boys gave their words of honour.

Alex untied their wrists and elbows and told the hostages to finish the job themselves while he went out to check on his prisoner.

Little Steve went straight for the gag that he had requested rather than having to have sticky tape ripped from his face. He was beginning to change his mind: his jaws ached for England. Scott went for the, now somewhat loose, gaffer tape that had kept him blindfolded for well over twelve hours, a personal best! Scott was glad to be inside the somewhat dim Log Cabin when he could finally see again and Steve started to attack the tape that held the tent bags over his head.

It was remarkably difficult for the hostages to untie their ankles from the cross bars without falling off the chairs (but it was mighty entertaining) but eventually both boys were free but wearing only sleeping bag liners. Both revelled in being able to move freely, especially Scott who had been tied up in one way or the other since about seven o’clock last evening. If he only knew what the time was, he might have claimed that as a personal best as well.

On their word of honour, each boy in turn was given his garment, allowed to go out to the toilet, do what he needed to, dress and return. Scott must have a remarkably capacious bladder to have lasted so long!

The hostages were allowed the full half hour “mercy time” to move freely (within the Log cabin), massage themselves and be free from any ties whatsoever. As has been said “Scout’s Honour” was to be honoured and respected.

Knowing Scott of old Den couldn’t resist asking him what had made him struggle in such a demented way when he was trying to escape from Alex’s hog-tie, it wasn’t like Scott to try so hard. Scott admitted that Action Man’s whispered, “If you’re still tied in two hours, be prepared for the bulldog clips.” might have had something to do with it. Then he shuddered as he remembered Action Man’s whispered, “Later”.

Sam decided that it was time to re-secure their hostages who were honour bound to comply. Of course, once bonds were on, anything went.



GP took Steve into the Galley where he was hobbled and chained to the metal framework as before. Resignedly he set about the breakfast things including a really greasy frying pan but he was grateful to have been spared the chain that shackled his wrists the previous evening and the gag.

Scott was made to hobble his own ankles with a fairly heavy chain before GP took him outside to explain his tasks. The first was to collect the disgusting, greasy Trangia stoves that the cubs had abandoned and deliver them to the galley. Steve gave a very rueful sigh at the sight of them. “Sorry, Mate” whispered Scott who then had to take the bucket out to the tap several times to top-up the boiler. The first trip easily convinced Scott to make a necklace of his chain like the one wrapped round Little Steve previously, even though he had not seen it, to stop it dragging on the ground.

Having been a “guest” of the Sailor Boys on more than one previous occasion Scott could guess what Sam meant by “guest quarters”. Sure enough! GP made Scott unravel the chain from around his neck and padlocked the end to a strong iron eye set in a heavy concrete block that seemed to have been left over from the war. Scott was free to move no more than about four metres from the block. From where he was standing he could see his equipment: six metal marquee stakes with rings near the tops, a large sledge hammer, three very substantial wooden spars and a large selection of pioneering ropes.

Having been staked out previously, Scott knew what to do with four of the marquee stakes. He would have to drive them into the ground, two metres apart at an angle of about 60 degrees with their tops pointing away from one another. These stakes were about 90 cm long and took some driving into the compacted ground at the back of the Log cabin. Only about 20 cm was to be left projecting. Even dressed as he was in just his square-leg briefs, Scott soon worked up a sweat as he wielded the sledge hammer.

T-Boy had long ago given up trying to get any more sleep and had got up, got on his bike and gone shopping for dinner.

GP sat in the shade with a Coke, watching Scot working up a thirst. When he had built the “bed frame” he asked for permission to speak and was allowed to visit the tap for a drink.

“Can you make a shear-leg?” asked GP. Of course Scott, being an experienced Scout, was adept at pioneering. He had made a shear leg for an aerial runway just the previous weekend. Using shear lashings he soon ended up with a very secure triangular frame which, when it was stood up, was well over two metres in height. Moving the result was not a one-slave job. It was heavy. Scott could guess what that would be used for.

GP called for assistance in moving the framework. Den, Evan & GP manoeuvred the shear-leg until it stood more-or-less upright when jammed up against a convenient branch of a tree. Scott was ordered over with the sledge hammer. He had to force the bases of the legs slightly towards the tree jamming it tightly in position. Taking the other two marquee stakes Evan told Scott to hammer them in vertically against the cross bar thus ensuring that the shear leg could not slide forwards again.

Scott had not seen this device used for restraining prisoners before but he could make a good guess as to where either he or Little Steve would be standing very shortly.

GP told Scott that he would be released from the concrete block before delivering several buckets of water to Steve in the Galley, most of which needed to go straight into the boiler with an extra cold bucket for when the water needed cooling off before Steve could put his hands in it. After that, he could take the rest of the afternoon off. Only GP could get the right tone of voice to convey the intended menace in that statement effectively.

At this point Action Man would normally have taken over but he was a little occupied at the time even though Alex had removed the paint-ball helmet and, after removing the belt from his mouth, had offered his prisoner a much needed drink from the camel-pack. By now at least he was standing up straight and was capable of a little movement but, with his hands chained on one side of the tree and the rope connecting his elbows on the other side, he had not been able to escape Alex’s tie.

Sam took a turn. Scott was forced to cross his wrists, back to back in front of him while Sam wrapped four loops of a long, thin rope from front to back, adjusted the tension and knotted it off. He didn’t bother to tighten the bindings by tying a loop between Scott’s wrists as he knew the next step would tighten them up effectively without that.

Scott, still with his chain hobble and newly restored “necklace” in place, was led over to his own shear-leg. He was right about where one of the hostages would be standing shortly and he had even figured out which one! He was ordered to turn round and face away from the framework and Sam climbed on the cross-bar and threaded the end of the rope through the small gap between the tree branch and where the spars crossed. He pulled the rope tight forcing Scott’s arms high above his head and tightening the ropes binding his wrists quite painfully. As he protested, GP quickly inserted the traditional rubber ball and held it in place while Evan applied sufficient gaffer tape to ensure both that it could not be expelled and that Scott’s protests were almost completely neutralised.

GP and Evan then lifted Scott so that he could stand on the cross-bar thus alleviating the pain in his wrists. Sam pulled tight again but not as tight as previously. Scott was now standing on the spar with his hands drawn up to where the two side spars were crossed. Because Scott had made the shear-leg, he knew that the fingers of his right hand, the one with the palm facing the lashings, were well out of reach of his knots.

Sam pushed the end of the rope through the gap between the branch and the lashings again, pulled tight and tied off the end of the rope to the cross bar outside the side spar nearest Scott’s left leg.

Sam then lifted the chain from Scott’s shoulders, took the trailing end leading from Scott’s right ankle, threaded it under the cross bar outside the side support, returned it along the cross bar, coiling it round a couple of times and finally threaded it forwards round the other side spar before padlocking it to Scott’s left ankle chain. Scott was left with his feet well apart and not planted as securely on the cross bar as previously. Too many false moves and there was enough slack in the un-coiled ends of the chain to leave Scott hanging from his own creation.

Scott settled down, wearily, to enjoy his predicament.

The new kids were supposed to arrive at one o’clock. Each had been told to bring their Troop necker and a football scarf and to be prepared to spend some time wearing only their swimming briefs. The successful candidates would be allowed to stay overnight.

Three younger members of the Troop, who wanted in on the TUG’s action, arrived for their initiation into the Log Cabin TUG’s Club. They arrived in a maelstrom of noise and excitement, rode their bicycles up to the door of the Log Cabin, dropped them and their rucksacks wherever they stopped and ran into the Cabin wearing their neckerchiefs, clutching their scarves and keen to get started.

Evan was to be in charge of the initiation and suddenly wondered what had hit him. One false move and he was surrounded by shouting, over-excited little kids. “Right, Shut up. Next one to speak goes straight home!” That had the desired effect.

Evan had to decide: did he show them the hostages first or did he get on with the gagging as soon as possible? No contest, you might think. Strangely, he decided to do the tour first to see if any of them was capable of being quiet when necessary, anyone who couldn’t was no use to the club.

Being Sea Scouts, the prospective members already knew the Log Cabin but none of them had ever been present when a TUG was on. Evan indicated Steve as an enemy and explained that he was a hostage against the handing over of enemy agents who had perpetrated an outrage against the Troop. Luke thought that was “Cool”.

Luke was used to being tied up by his older brother, he quite enjoyed it, it made him feel calm. There was seldom a week went past without at least one evening where Luke had his elbows tied behind him and his knees tied together. His brother would then make him struggle to fetch and carry for him. Like his brother, he needed to be kept occupied all the time if he was to keep out of trouble. His parents were quite aware of their sons’ activities but, as long as neither got hurt, they didn’t mind. Luke didn’t want to belong to the same Troop as his brother because, when he got to be on the winning team, he wanted to have his brother at his mercy.

Luke would be a lady-killer later on: not particularly athletic but cute-looking with a dimpled smile. He had mousy hair in a neat razor cut. Oh, and he was Scott’s brother.

Luke’s hyper-activity disorder left him with chaotic organisational skills and, predictably, even though he had turned up at the right place at the right time, he had come without the required football scarf or Speedos. At least he was wearing his neckerchief.

Evan continued his tour. The next captive they saw was Action Man, still tied to the tree, blindfolded and covered with bruises and paint. Alex was checking on his prisoner at the time so he explained the concept of betting and the usual consequences for the loser. He then realised that Action Man had not eaten since last night and started feeding him Coco Pops and milk followed by a banana. After the usual slug from the camel-pack, Action Man was tape gagged. He seemed to have accepted his lot. Peter thought that the chance of treating such a “cakey” prisoner like this was “awesome”.

Peter was very sporty with a dense thatch of straight, dark hair cut neatly just short of shoulder length with a long fringe. Even though still only eleven years old he was developing a sturdy, muscular frame due to the amount of sport he played. Not very academic but fiercely loyal to his friends.

Peter turned up with a Pompey scarf. Now that took some guts as everyone else was a Saints supporter. Even his square-leg hipster Speedos were bright blue.

Evan continued his tour by showing Scott to the younger kids. Luke was chuffed with this. He’d always wanted to see his brother at such a disadvantage. If he hadn’t had to be on his best behaviour, he would have slipped Scott’s feet off the cross-bar. The worst part of it for Scott was that, not having been blindfolded, he had to look at his smirking little brother standing in front of him and gloating. Lloyd thought that the opportunity to treat a prisoner like this was “mega”.

Lloyd was quite a bulky, dark haired kid. He was to develop into a real muscle man later. He enjoyed a fight but he knew he’d have to accept whatever he was put through during his initiation. He had brought a tight, and not very extensive, pair of black briefs in a shiny material. He assured everybody that, yes, they were swimming trunks but his hosts thought they looked a lot like a body-builder’s posing briefs.

The tour over, the three postulants were taken back inside where Evan told them to strip ready for their ordeals. Suddenly a look of panic flashed across Luke’s face. He explained that he had forgotten his Swimming trunks and his football scarf. He was so desperate not to be thrown out that he even offered to strip naked. (There’s something odd about that family.) Evan said that that would not be necessary but that he would have to undergo more stringent ordeals than his companions. Luke accepted and stripped down to his loose, white boxers with the stars all over them.

The three younger boys were now ready for their forthcoming ordeals.




Luke was first. Alex was now available to “do the honours” while GP looked for something to use as a gag. Alex took a length of white rope whilst Den forced the younger boy’s elbows together behind him. Luke was still slight and supple enough for his elbows to touch. As Alex carefully fastened his elbows closely together Luke thought, “That’s what Scott usually does to me but it doesn’t bite in so much this time.” Alex knew how to tie efficiently without causing unnecessary pain, whereas Scott liked pain. Alex then took a new rope for his trademark clove hitch round his subject’s wrists followed by a couple more turns around, tied off and then cinched off twice between the wrists. This was a new experience to Luke; Scott would sometimes tie his wrists and sometimes his elbows but never both at the same time.

Luke now had his arms uncomfortably tied, his elbows protruding bizarrely behind his back like the dorsal fin of a fish. Happy with his work, Alex turned to his next “client”.

GP returned. Luke was used both to being cleave-gagged and muzzled with tape by his brother but what was about to happen was going to be a very new experience. GP had visited the “toy box” and found a hard rubber ball, probably a squash ball, and an old tubi-grip which had somehow been left behind. He slipped the ball into the support stocking and instructed Luke to, “Open wide!”

Even while the gag was being tied off tightly behind his neck, Luke was busy appraising the way the ball fitted his mouth and thinking that he might enjoy the experience. It was fortunate for Luke that he was being co-operative so that he wasn’t forced (?accidentally?) to bite his lips as sometimes happened when gags were applied in a hurry.

Evan collected Luke’s neckerchief from the floor, folded it carefully on the large table and fastened it tightly round his eyes causing the smaller boy to wince noticeably and squeal slightly in spite of himself. The neckerchief was carefully adjusted to ensure that Luke was completely unable to see. He was then taken by the arm over to the table where Evan put one hand under each armpit, lifted him, turned him round and sat him on the edge of the table.

“Right, cross your ankles on the table,” Luke was told and he obeyed. His crossed ankles were wrapped around, fore and aft, with about five loops of rope which were tied off, the tension equalised and then cinched off by having the free ends of the ropes wrapped around the loops and tied off firmly.

The free ends were then passed under Luke’s backside, passed together between his wrists and returned under his backside again. Evan pulled the free ends tight drawing Luke’s ankles towards him and his arms even more uncomfortably downwards. A final knotted off pass round the ankles left Evan satisfied with his work. Luke was not pulled so tight that he was forced over onto his shoulders but, with his arms bound as they were, he was left in a fairly restrictive sitting hog-tie. Even GP wondered whether they had gone too far with this much younger kid.

Evan was of a different opinion, “If you move, you’re finished.” he warned stopping only to run the backs of his thumbnails along the soles of his victim’s exposed feet quite heavily. Every muscle in the prisoner’s body tensed involuntarily.

Peter saw Luke’s arms being bound and started to wonder whether he had made the right decision in asking to be initiated. It was his turn next.

Peter had stripped down to his bright blue square-leg hipster Speedos and had brought his blue and white Pompey scarf. Having arrived properly turned out (In spite of the Pompey scarf), Evan would not need to treat him as harshly as he had Luke. During initiations to the TUG Club the Sea Scouts sometimes didn’t tie the applicants too tightly to allow frightened candidates to wriggle free and escape if they needed to do so. However, Peter looked sturdy enough to tie firmly.

Alex moved into his usual routine. Peter was told to position his wrists in the small of his back where they were tied with vertical turns of rope (following the usual clove hitch, of course) and cinched off between his wrists. The ends of the rope were then passed up, one over each shoulder, round the front of his neck and returned to his wrists. One turn around both wrists and then tied off completed that stage of tying but left lots of spare rope.

You might have spotted the snag here: Peter had a final unsecured knot within range of his fingers. Sorry, but just because Alex had finished and prepared to move on to his final “client”, it doesn’t mean that Evan had finished.

Evan took Peter’s football scarf and tied a good sized and rather solid knot in the middle. On the instruction, ”Open wide!” Peter did so and found the knot pushed firmly into his mouth and his scarf tied tightly round the back of his head. He was then blindfolded in the same way as Luke had been.

Evan didn’t find lifting the rather muscular little guy up onto the table quite as easy this time but he managed it with little trouble and told Peter to cross his ankles on the table. He did so and Evan pushed his ankles closer to his body. The free ends of the rope were passed under Peter’s backside and wound round his ankles several times before being tied off. That left Peter with very little scope for movement if he was to be able to remain sitting.

“Two down, one to go”, said Evan taking over from Alex who had already fastened Lloyd’s wrists into the small of his back. The gagging and blindfolding procedure followed as usual and Evan called to Alex to give him a hand. They quickly hoisted the rather solid little kid up onto the table where Evan finished tying him up as usual.

You miss things in a month
Loved that paintball scene, and the maggot's running-gag. Developed a thing for belt-gags lately, so would say our ActionMan had some nice moments, seemed he enjoyed it Fun to see a potential TUGmates couple with Alex forming.

And, uh... wonder what they put in the food in Scott and Luke's family
Keep them coming!

Thank you. I checked up on Action Man's fb last week to see one of his lady friends sying, "You really are a little action man, aren't you?" He is now 26 years old!

Amazing as always, loved the entry of the new initiates