Stories of Tie Up Games

Chapter 21: Wednesday morning
(Including a tribute to chapter 97 of the saga from [mention]bondagefreak[/mention] )

At breakfast, the mood had barely subsided since the excitement the night before. Everyone was eager to see the schedule for the day, and were eagerly awaiting what form rowing training would take.

The morning jogging was similar to that of the previous days. Vincent watched my performances closely, without showing what he thought. For my part, I tried to follow my strategy of always making myself more indispensable to the team, giving -always without a single word- advice to my teammates. When someone had to reach a high branch of a tree to fix a rope to which we were going to climb, I volunteered and tied the rope in a few skillful knots. The teammate who escorted me through all of the training and climbed the tree with me noticed:
- Seeing how you handle the rope, it shows that you were a scout! I pity the one you’ll tie up when it's your turn.
Here, at least two pieces of information: 1) it was known that I had been a scout, so my modest biography was known to at least some; 2) one day it would be my turn to tie up one of my teammates! Of course, I remembered that this hazing was an immutable ritual that the next applicant would undergo and during which I would be one of the binders. But my teammate seemed to have another idea in mind ...

After making me take my shower, still my right hand immobilized against my thigh, Vincent made me lie down on the bed and firmly bound my hands behind my back, then my elbows, painfully pulling my shoulders back, before taking care of my ankles and knees. Then he tied my wrists to my ankles, locking me into a strict but not unbearable hogtie.

Then he undressed and threw his clothes on the bed next to me, before going to the shower. Among the clothes he had thrown away was the thick woolen sweater he had put on after jogging very close to my face.

Of course you know me, I couldn't resist. Hearing the shower running, I told myself that I had time to take advantage of Vincent's absence to sink my head into the thick wool that was within reach. Caught in his bonds and my nose buried in my captor’s sweater, I felt more than good. To the point of not realizing that the shower had stopped running and that Vincent had returned into the room ...

Watching me sniff his jumber like that must've turned him on more than I expected. He smirked and grabbed the garment before pressing it down over my face and smothering me with it.
- Haha, yeah...sniff that, he chuckled, holding the thick layer of wool down over my face.
My nostrils flared open, and I was immediately overwhelmed by my captor’s overpowering scent. For some reason, the smell of his sweater was driving me crazy. It smelled strong and manly. It smelled like him. Vincent kept my face smothered up for a good thirty seconds, probably getting a huge kick out of my moans, sniffs and half-hearted protests.
- How do you like that? Thick enough for you? he chuckled, finally pulling the sweater off from over my face so that I could breathe fresh air.
"Hmm hum" I nodded, slowly allowing my eyes to roam up towards him.

Then he pulled me up on the bed, so that, in my hogtie, I was on my knees, and he pulled the sweater over me. With my arms tied, the body of the sweater embraced them, and he tied the empty sleeves that hung down the sides. Finally, he pushed me bluntly to drop me back onto my side.
- While waiting for lunch, you will sweat a little. After all, isn't that what a sweater is for!
Then he piled an extra woolen blanket and the thick duvet of his bed over my already bundled body. And he surrounded the set with several loops of ropes appropriately located.
- Don't go anywhere, I'll be back to pick you up for lunch.
My body tingled in delight as his incredibly thick sweater pressed down all around my torso. I felt really warm and safe.

Chapter 22: Wednesday, such a long day

So Vincent also understood my fetish for sweaters… As much as I felt confident about what Martin would do with this, I was wary of Vincent. But these thoughts failed to completely spoil the pleasure of being tied up in her efficient but bearable hogtie and smelling the thick wool of her sweater on my body, the scent of which reached me under the blanket and the comforter.

Just for the pleasure, I tested the strength of my links. Not an inch of movement was possible. Not a single knot was within reach of my fingers; all the latter could do was feel the thick wool of Vincent's sweater, which I did not deprive myself of.

My erection made my glans rub against the sweater, which I had probably already wet with my precum and dreaded flooding at any time. However, never in the past had I come without the back-and-forth stimulation provided by some orifice or an expert hand, and this was unlikely to happen. Though, the situation was beyond what the Richter scale of arousal could measure, and the seismic stress was aggravated by already five days of forced abstinence. It would be enough for my visitor of the first days to show up again for the dam to fail.

Besides, it made me think that this visitor had not shown up since Martin left. So, either it was Martin himself or it was Vincent. However, the day Martin tied me to the attic beam after we had washed the sweaters together, I had almost irrefutable proof that the visitor who had subjected me to this edging was not Martin. So…

As I thought about it all, but still couldn't calm my erection, time passed, and I heard the household living around and below me. A mixture of various sounds including indistinct voices that mingled with each other. Until, listening more carefully, I heard a conversation that shook my spine. The tone rose, and Martin finally shouted:
- No, he won't be rowing with us this afternoon. And if I hear another word from you about him, he's going to remain tied up all afternoon in my bedroom.
- You have no right to do this to him. Martin would never have allowed it.
- I remind you that in his absence, for two more days, I am the captain of this team.
- And I remind you that we are in his house, that you are the interim captain, and that your duty is to follow the protocol.
The other voice was that of the teammate I had climbed the tree with this morning. One of the two who had been escorting me since the start of the week during our trainings. The altercation continued:
- Enough, you said too much, I warned you. Thanks to you, our guest will spend all day trussed up in my bedroom. And since he won't be exercising, he can go without lunch.
- If you do that, I'll call Martin and tell him what's going on in his house.

There followed the sound of doors slamming, footsteps on the stairs. Vincent entered the room, visibly furious.
- I think you heard it all. I won't let you or anyone challenge my authority. You're gonna stay here all day. Besides, the dirty little perverted queer that you are loves it, so don't complain.
I couldn't help but answer him:
- You have no right to do this to me! You overstep your role!
- And you, you are not allowed to speak, should I remind you?
Indeed, I had forgotten my vow of silence. But the anger and the feeling of injustice overwhelmed me. I wanted to go row with the team and this little bully couldn't help it.
- But, our little fagot rebels? Right now, you don't seem in a position to discuss anything, do you? So you’re going to be fine here until I decide otherwise. And give me a minute to find something to remind you of your vow of silence.

He reached into his pile of dirty laundry, pulled out a pair of boxer shorts and a pair of long socks. He tied the socks together, forced me to open my mouth, tucked the shorts in, then locked them with the knot of the socks, before tying the socks behind my neck. Then, from the same pile of dirty laundry, he drew a jumper in which he locked my head.

Then I heard him leave and lock the door behind him.

Everything in my head was spinning. The anger, the fear of not finishing the hazing week and not being admitted to the team, but also, at the same time, the excitement of being a prisoner and of feeling everything around me, even in my mouth, the fragrances of my kidnapper.

And also, the questioning of what Martin would think when he heard about what was going on at home, in his absence.

I heard the household getting ready for lunch, without me. But these noises were missing something; and it took me a few minutes to understand that no one was speaking. Then again steps up the stairs upstairs. The sound of the key, the door opening. Vincent who, without a word, stirred things up. He was certainly changing to go rowing. He ignored my presence, as if I was a piece of furniture he was sure to find in the same place when he would return from training.

Then again silence and solitude. This time for long hours. And, for the first time, in a climate of concern. Certainly, I had nothing to fear, nothing more than the previous times I had been tied up. But the kindness that I had felt the times before was gone, and there, for the very first time, I felt trapped by someone who didn't want me well. That thought settled in my mind, all excitement had left me. And this situation that, at other times, I would have dreamed of, was turning into a nightmare. My only consolation was that by the time I was going through this, Martin probably already knew about it. And it was obvious to me that wherever he was, he would do whatever it took to get the situation right.

Which I was only confirmed at the very end of the day, just before dinner.

Chapter 23: Wednesday, End of Day

In the late afternoon, in fact, I heard the door open. And, to my surprise, when my head was out of the sweater it was locked in, instead of Vincent, I saw the two teammates who had escorted me in training every morning lean over me. One of them explained to me:
- We will take over from Vincent until Martin returns on Friday night. You're going to stay under protocol, but what happened this afternoon was not in protocol. François is going to unbind you and accompany you to the shower. Then you will wait for dinner in our bedroom.
He went away and let Francois untie me, carefully winding the ropes as he went. Then, François explained to me:
- You still have some ordeal to go through, but you'll see, Stéphane and I will make sure that everything goes as smoothly as possible.
So I learned that my two morning guards were called François and Stéphane and that they would be my two new jailers. That was probably the order Martin had given them. I knew the first of the two had stood up to Vincent, and that gave me confidence.

When Francois had finished unbinding me, he accompanied me to the shower and watched over me while I washed, this time with both hands free. I tried not to look at him too much. The prospect of being held captive by this beautiful, angel-faced athlete turned me on enough, and the last thing I needed was to be turned on even more.

Unlike Vincent, he gave me a clean towel. I enjoyed this delicacy, although I would have given anything to wipe myself off in a towel soaked in him. Likewise, clean briefs, t-shirt and trousers awaited me, arousing the same ambivalence in me. If I had dared to rip off his shirt and sweater and put them on, I would have.

He escorted me to their room where Stéphane was already lying on the double bed, a book in his hand. François explained to me:
- As Stéphane told you, the protocol still applies: we will have to bind you until dinner.

Both looked almost sorry for forcing this on me.
- It's going to be fine, do you need something?
I shrug my shoulders, unsure of what to say, especially given my vow of silence.
- Do you think you'll be cold?
There, of course, I jumped at the opportunity and nodded. Which had the result I hoped for:
- Would you like a sweater?
I nodded again. And I got what I wanted: François was about to take his off to give it to me:
- Do you mind putting mine on? It is clean.
I nodded, trying to hide my enthusiasm, and found myself in heaven when he took it off and Watched me put it on, when it still had its warmth and, of course, its scent. It was a light sweater, and I would have preferred Stéphane's, a much thicker one that turned me on even more. But I wasn't going to be picky ...

What followed was just as wonderful. For the first time, I was tied up by two guys instead of only one, Stéphane holding me up, so that I didn't lose my balance, François seriously wrapping his ropes around my ankles, my knees, my thighs . The way Stéphane held me was very protective, his arms tightly encircling my chest and my own arms, as if they too were already tied up. This embrace, in addition to the warmth of his body which radiated through his thick sweater and the thinner one Francois had lent me, gave me a hard-on, which Francois must inevitably have noticed when his ropes reached my crotch. But he refrained from any remark. He then took care of my wrists, which he tied in front of me, then my arms, which he tied against my chest. My excitement was such that I shivered, and Stéphane asked me if I was still cold. Again, I jumped at the opportunity and nodded. A moment later he had taken off his sweater and put it on me; the body of the garment enclosed my tied torso and arms, and its empty sleeves, hanging on both sides, were tied in front of me. My two jailers lifted me up without difficulty before placing me carefully on their bed.
- Will you be ok until dinner?
Tied up, in that comfortable lying position, hands in front of my chest, and wrapped in their two sweaters, what more could I have asked for? I nodded and let them go, after they had locked the door.

Chapter 24: Wednesday Night

Finally reassured of my fate, and confident in my two new captors, I must have dozed off. Because it was when François and Stéphane were busy freeing me that I opened my eyes to find their two charming faces leaning over me.
- End of the nap, young friend!
I was allowed to use the restroom, free but the door ajar to avoid any temptation, before going downstairs for dinner. The rest of the team seemed relieved that the tension had eased, but needless to say, Vincent was in a very bad mood and was showing it by not opening his mouth. Except to swallow his meal, of course. As soon as he was done, he left the table and went up to his room. No one commented on what happened during the day.

We went back upstairs and I was allowed to use the toilet and brush my teeth again. Stéphane and François took a large and well-filled rucksack from the bedroom. And the first one told me:
- Keep the two sweaters on you, your night will be chilly.
When François made me put on a second pair of pants over the one I was already wearing, I understood what awaited me: a night under the stars! Where? How? The night I had spent on the pontoon had been terrifying, but thanks to the thick sleeping bag, the cold had not been a problem. There, the precautions they made me adopt led me to believe that it would be otherwise, that I would not have a sleeping bag. After the second pair of pants, Francois took out a huge sweater, the size of which probably included several letters X before the L, and told me to put it on top of the two I was already wearing. It was a heavy, thick Irish sweater, heavier and thicker than the sum of the two I was already wearing. Seeing my reflection in the window, I had a hard time recognizing myself as I looked so massive.

Then we went out. It wasn't that cold, but the night was just beginning, and I knew these layers of wool would come in pretty much useful, in addition to be exciting. At least to me.

My two teammates and I walked the road for a while before taking a path which plunged us deep into the forest. They seemed to know exactly where they wanted to take me. We passed through some clearings where the moon cast its cold light, cold as the air of this mid-autumn. Only the sound of our footsteps in the dead leaves and twigs blurred the silence. Finally, after we had walked for a good half an hour, we arrived at our destination: a wooden hunting hut, the door of which Stéphane shoved open. Francois pushed me inside and hung his flashlight on a hook. The only piece of furniture was a bench, placed in front of a long, narrow window, a horizontal slit, no doubt the loophole through which the hunters shot. I expected them to make me lie down on the bench to tie me down, but instead they just invited me to sit down, and sat down too, one on each side of me. We were the three of us, side by side, leaning against the wall. At first glance, they just wanted to rest a little, and let me enjoy this respite. That's what I was thinking when what I least expected happened: the two leaned forward, came closer in front of me and exchanged a deep kiss, just before turning to me and joining in their exchange.

How could I not have guessed, not understood, that they were lovers? The interest they showed in me, in any case, this interest, troubled me intensely, and I enthusiastically joined them, mingling my mouth with theirs, tasting their saliva which, perhaps like those of lovers, had taken on the same taste. Maybe more simply this was due to the fact that they had just brushed their teeth with the same toothpaste, but the first hypothesis struck me as more romantic, and you know, I'm French, so romanticism matters to me, even in a threesome.

Tongues mingled, hands too, going from buttocks to crotches in all the combinations that the number three allows. Then my two companions calmed down, and Stéphane whispered to me, his mouth two centimeters from mine:
- You're going to lie down on the bench and we'll tie you down. This is the protocol. But nothing in the protocol prevents us from having a little more fun with you.
Meanwhile, Francois had slid the bench away from the wall.

Never had I been so willing to be tied up!

Before binding my hands in front of me, Francois tugged at the sleeves of the sweater, which were so long they protruded a good twenty centimeters. Thus, my hands would be well protected from the cold. Then he and Stéphane busied themselves with tying my body to the bench with enough ropes that even the slightest movement was not imaginable.

Then the two lovers sat astride me, face to face, and kissed for long minutes. François was sitting on my stomach, and Stéphane on my thighs. One or the other - it was hard to know which one and I didn't care - was massaging my crotch dangerously. Francois stood up, took off his pants and underwears, and sat back on top of me, exposing his beautiful ass to me. Then he slid back, until my face was buried under his butt. And I tried to be the most comfortable seat he had ever sat on. Fortunately, at that moment, he stopped caring about my cock, which otherwise would have exploded. Stéphane in turn took off his pants and Francois leaned forward to swallow his lover's cock. Then he got up, pulled back again, so that his was above my mouth. He played on his legs so I could suck it. Then he got up, exchanged his place with Stéphane, I sucked in turn, finding on his cock the taste of François’s saliva.

My excitement was at its peak, and it took only one or the other to brush my cock for everything to explode. But they abstained, wisely or sadistically. And I was condemned to watch them make each other cum above me, before getting dressed.

Eventually, their two streams of semen fell on the Irish sweater. White on white.

While Stéphane unhooked the torch to leave, François leaned down one last time and gave me a wonderful deep kiss, before wishing me good night and promising me to come back not too late in the morning.

Chapter 25: Thursday Morning

I had probably fallen asleep quickly, because when I saw Stéphane and François lean over me, it took me a few moments to understand that it was not one of the many visits they had paid me in my dreams, but that it was already dawn.

All night, in fact, I had seen them again and again in my dreams. I was their permanent prisoner in their home. In a dream, François had tied me up with Stéphane, face to face, and we were kissing, our bodies tight against each other in the ropes. In another dream, I was tied up from head to toe at the bottom of a huge wooden crate, ready to be loaded onto a boat, while François and Stéphane filled the crate with dozens of thick woolen sweaters under which I was suffocating, and which must have stifled my cries. I was in the quintessence of my fetish!

Back to reality: François and Stéphane untied me and massaged me, before helping me to sit up first and then to get up slowly, holding me to prevent me not from fleeing but from wavering. Indeed, after such a long immobilization, being standing made me turn my head for a few seconds, but I quickly regained my balance. They had brought a gourd of fresh water, which I drank almost whole.

Then we returned to the house where I was entitled to a very hot bath, under Stéphane's supervision. Then he handed me a clean, soft towel. It was still very early, all the others were still asleep, and the two laid me down in their bed, sandwiched between them, Stéphane behind me and Francois in front. They held me so tight that it would have been useless to tie me up: I would not go anywhere. Thus, for an hour, I felt the hardened sex of Stéphane between my buttocks, while mine, also hardened, was wedged between the buttocks of Francois. But no one moved and no semen spilled. Even though, on the sixth day of forced abstinence, I was ready to explode.

When we heard our teammates fidgeting around the house, my two captors loosened their grip and released me. Francois offered to choose what to wear their huge shared suitcase, open next to the wardrobe. I picked out a t-shirt, boxer shorts and socks fairly quickly, and lingered a bit longer in front of the four or five jumpers to choose from. I wanted to wear one in which I had seen one or the other of my captors, and I opted for a red sailor sweater, so French, that I had seen Francois wearing on the first day.
- Good choice! He said to me, before adding: I would have put it on if you hadn't taken it.
I made the gesture of giving it to him to choose another:
- No, guests first, that's the rule of hospitality.

At breakfast, the atmosphere was more relaxed. Even Vincent seemed to have accepted the new situation.

The morning training was more intense than the previous days. But I put up with it without difficulty. And running for miles between my two captors was a disturbing and exciting experience. Finding myself between the two of them, both of whom were pillars of the team, made me feel completely and definitively part of the team. So I don't feel any need to overdo it anymore, I'm just natural, just one of the many, and I had a very wonderful morning.

During a break, Stéphane and François boxed me like a punching bag, both laughing and making me laugh, and Vincent saw our game. He faked a smile, but I could see he was clenching his teeth.

The warm weather allowed us to take our shower from the garden hose on the lawn in front of the house. Everyone sprayed everyone except Vincent, who stayed away. I understood he wanted to be reinstated in the group. And I also understood that I alone had this power. So I grabbed the garden hose and sprayed him genrously. He replied by jumping on me, but clearly in a playful manner, without a hint of animosity. We rolled through the soggy grass, one second him above me, the second after me above him. He ended up having the upper hand, him sitting on my stomach, his hands holding my wrists above my head. We stared at each other for a few seconds. I saw his boner stretching his shorts; and, sitting where he was, he must have felt mine. His mouth quivered a bit before he could utter:
- I hope we end up being friends.

Chapter 26: Thursday Night

The day unfolded like any other this week, with a long afternoon training session on the river. I had several opportunities to show my assets on different boats and in different team configurations, and I felt my teammates more and more determined to consider me one of their own. Even Vincent was friendly to me. But it was especially François and Stéphane who surrounded me with all their attentions, and did not let go of me a step. At every moment I was flanked by the two lovers, one on each side, like two bodyguards watching over me.

After training, the three of us took our shower together. A shower that wasn't just hygienic, but our caresses always stopped before my boner could explode. They themselves, moreover, had the delicacy towards me not to cum in my presence, even if their own boners beat the measure against their navels.

Once dried, Francois gave me something to dress. I realized then that their clothes were in one big bag: they were the same size and shared them; a real couple, indeed! He chose everything for me, including a sweater in which I had already seen Stéphane:
- Here, that's what I want to see you wearing.
I didn't know what he meant by that. Did he think that sweater, a chunky brown Shetland crew neck, suited me particularly well, or did he like the fact that I would be wearing the sweater his lover had worn? Both hypotheses suited me. In addition, they were compatible with each other. But hey, it may well be that these sweater stories don't interest anyone other than me.

The dinner was joyful. The last one before Martin's return. Everyone was excited to recount the week as they would recount it the next day to the team captain. Like children coming out of the movies and getting excited to tell their father about the movie. The tensions of days gone by were not even mentioned. And the prospect of the next day's evening seemed to excite them even more. I quickly felt that there was a secret about this evening that they would not reveal in my presence. I would have to wait to find out.
For the first time, I was allowed to stay with the group until the end of the evening, and Francois and Stephane escorted me upstairs only when the rest of the team got up as well.

Once in their bedroom, I was allowed to use the bathroom and to brush my teeth, before Stéphane told me to undress, made me lie down on the bed, and tied my wrists in front of me and my ankles together. Then he told me, in a tone that inspired confidence:
- Don't worry, tonight it's going to be fine for you. Stéphane and I just need to draw something.

He took out a euro coin, asked Stéphane to choose a coin toss. His companion chose tails and the coin fell heads.
- So it is with Stéphane that you will be tied up all night.

The news did not seem to upset the "loser" of the toss, who in turn went to brush his teeth and use the bathroom. Then Francois made me lie down on my side, as in what looked like a lateral safety position, Stéphane lay down behind me, in the same position. I felt good in this spooning, with behind me this handsome boy taller and stronger than me.

Stéphane slipped one arm under my neck and the other over it. Francois tied his wrists, then tied his ankles to mine. The manhood of Stéphane was already hard between my buttocks while François linked our two bodies together, above the knees, at the height of the pelvis and at the height of the torso. Stéphane and I were tightly knit together, like two spoons, and the minimal range of motion that was possible for us only allowed his boner and my buttocks to become more and more intimate. Francois abandoned us like this, before going to the bathroom in turn.

The ten minutes it took him was torture: how was I going to resist an entire night tied up with one of the prettiest guys ever? I could feel Stéphane's warm breath in the back of my neck, the rhythm of which confirmed the excitement I was already feeling between my buttocks. My neck was locked between his biceps and my head between his forearms, my sight blocked by the ropes that bound his wrists.

When Francois returned, he put the finishing touch: he took off his sweater and wrapped our two heads in it. The smell of fresh wool mixed with that of Francois brought me within a micron of the explosion. The information sent to me from my neck and my butt seemed to indicate that Stéphane was also sensitive to this finishing touch.

A moment later, I felt François lay down behind Stéphane, and he hugged us both, adding a third spoon to the collection.

It was an unforgettable night, made up of alternating soft and deep sleep with such gentle waking phases, sometimes synchronized with my two companions, more often of course with Stéphane, sometimes not; but even then, being awake in this situation was wonderful.

Chapter 26: Friday, before the final ordeal

In the morning, when François finally released us, Stéphane and I had already been awake for several hours. His boner between my buttocks seemed not to have deflated since the day before. The three of us took our shower together, soaping each other up. But neither ventured to touch my manhood, and my two captors were careful to ensure that I did not touch it myself beyond what the hygiene required.

For the last time, I had to wear the couple's clothes. Indeed, the next day, it would be Martin again who would dress me with his. The pants belonged to François, who was my size, but the T-shirt and the sweater could have belonged to any of them. And François gave me a thick red woolen turtleneck, which was enough to wake my boner.

Outside was falling a torrential rain which seemed to have settled in at least for the day. So it was decided during breakfast that we would spend the day tidying up and cleaning the house before the return of the host, announced for dinner. Everyone was given a task, and even before lunch, the house looked cleaner than when we arrived six days (already!) Earlier.

In the afternoon the rain was even heavier. Those who know Normandy will understand what I'm talking about. Under these conditions, there was no question of training, neither on land nor on water. Stéphane and François took me to help them tidy up the boathouse, while the others were to go shopping for the weekend. Only two oilskins were hanging from the coat rack: François, who wore the thickest sweater, and therefore the most impermeable, let us wear them, and we ran across the few hundred yards which separated the manor house from the boathouse.

There, they only needed my help to move the boats and turn them over so that they could repair any minor damage that had occurred or been identified during our training. But for the repair themselves, I would be of no use to them. When they took me to the locker room, I guessed the rest ...

They invited me to lie down on the bench, an order which I was only too happy to obey. But when François asked Stephane where he had put the ropes, they found that each of them thought the other had taken them. Ropes had therefore remained in the house. None wanted to go out in the rain. Also, François decreed:
- We'll make do with what we have.
He undid his belt which he used to bind my wrists in front of me, and Stephane used his to bind my ankles. Then, in the absence of any other ties, they took the rowing sweaters that were on the shelves and tied them around my body and the bench, as they had done the first night before we left.

It seems easy to break free on your own from a tie as elastic as a sweater, but nearly a dozen sweaters distributed all along your body, I promise you that this constraint, however elastic it may be, is impossible to escape. .

Fortunately, a sweater tied at the right height masked what would have betrayed my fetishism. Unless they had already found out? I didn’t know. Even though I had some doubts: the night before, François had still locked both of our heads, Stéphane and mine, in his sweater ...

I was asking myself these questions when I saw François take off his big sweater and lock my head in it! It was a very thick sweater, enough for François to rely on it against the rain. Therefore it was loaded with humidity. And anyone who loves wool knows how the smell of wet wool is of a hard drug!

I spent the whole afternoon like this, tied securely to the bench in a thick, woolly cocoon. I could hear them bustling about on the boats, discussing what couples discuss without caring about me, as if having a prisoner tied up in the next room was the most natural thing in the world.

It was then that a cell phone rang. François replied and I immediately understood that he was talking to Martin:
- Have you already arrived? Yes, he's with us in the boathouse. Yes, come join us ...

Martin was there, and he was going to find me in this state! I was both excited and so embarrassed ...

François entered the locker room and took off the sweater that wrapped around my head:
- Martin is there, he is joining us.

I narrowly missed saying "Yes, I heard" before remembering my vow of silence in time. François put on his sweater again, and it pleased me to see on him this garment in which I had been imprisoned. Then came Martin, still in his work suit and tie. He kissed his two friends, then, after gently patting my cheeks, he placed a kiss on my forehead.

- Hey, guys, you did a good job! You know what? For tonight’s ordeal, we're going to leave him like this. We're just going to carry him with the bench. What do you think?

Without waiting for their answer, he took his cell phone and called:
- Come with all the others, there won't be too many eight.

A few minutes later, the bench I was tied to was lifted to shoulder height by my eight teammates, like a coffin in a ceremony, and so I was transported home.

Then Martin explained to me:
- Tradition has it that the last ordeal takes place after dinner on Friday. But this time, as you are already well installed, you’re going to undergo it now, and we will all have dinner afterwards.

TBC