Quite a boarding school!

by Bondwriter

16. A busy evening begins.

Phil's mouth was full of the flimsy material, a compact ball of silk being held in his mouth by the black silk in which it was rolled that was tightly knotted at the nape of his neck. Fred then stuck strip after strip of the wide white tape, first criss-crossed then horizontal, to conceal his lower face under the soft sticky material.

He gazed intently into Phil's eyes as he worked with care, smoothing the tape and caressing his face with his nimble fingers, letting him know with a grin he was in good hands. At least until the torture part would begin.

Meanwhile, there were other busy hands as ropes at the elbows and knees were tied to the bed frame, restraining the boy undergoing the initiation a bit further. Phil's shirt had been removed, so he was only wearing the regulatory Glidor briefs and the tight black shorts above.

The two layers of gleaming material didn't allow him to preserve his modesty, especially since the predicament he was in had him all worked up. No one commented on this, since it was one of the untold rules that it would be in poor taste to do so. Lewis could not help breaking the silence.

"His legs are bloody hairy, lads, aren't they? A regular chimpanzee, isn't he?" he said as he pulled on Phil's hairs at the calves. He sneered at the grunt he got.

"Come on, Lewis, wait a bit for us before we get mean!" Billy scolded. He had a hard time with Lewis making fun of others' looks. The work went on in silence. Soon they were all done.

"Ben, you're up to start the first test," Lewis said before turning to Philip. "He's going to study your ticklishness. We want to find out your most ticklish spots. It'll be useful later on."

Philip had endured quite a few tickling tortures at the hands of his younger brothers, but the five pairs of eyes that turned towards him with smiles on the faces saying "We're going to revel in the show" made him a bit uncomfortable. He gulped as much as his crammed mouth allowed and braced for the ordeal?

Ben approached, a long feather in his right hand that he brandished as Arthur waving Excalibur after he got it out from the anvil. With Keith and Billy on the right side of the bunk bed, Lewis at the footboard and Fred at his sides, the young swimmer sat on the mattress next to the spread-eagled victim. He leaned towards his face and aimed for his right armpit. The tickling started, from his armpits down to the prisoner's feet.

The ten minutes that followed didn't really yield Philip's most secret ticklish body part, since he more or less squirmed like a worm the whole time, though it got really worse when Ben got down to his helpless soles. He stopped once in a while when he thought the boy was about to choke, but the respite was short, and another bout of tickling ensued.

Keith nudged Billy and pointed out discretely that Philip's face turning red wasn't the only physiological reaction to the torment he had to endure.

"Look," he whispered to his friend's ear. They both refrained from giggling, wanting this moment to be serious and important. It did look important to Philip anyway.

As a newbie he felt good even though these guys acted mercilessly; they were actually taking very good care of him. He remembered his brothers trussing him up to a chair for hours without paying him a lot of attention, merely checking the ropes were not getting loose and gloating a bit about his helplessness.

After much squirming and twisting along with the customary muffled groans, Lewis stated research was inconclusive, but that the subject seemed tickle-sensitive nonetheless. A quick "Everyone on him!" triggered four more boys to pounce on the tightly restrained victim, all holding a feather in their hand. The torture got more intense yet. Billy signalled truces every two or three minutes; these were moments when Philip had the time to recover slightly, but also to dread the upcoming round.

Not to mention to stare at the good looks of his playmates; he was experiencing some very weird mixed feelings of intense well-being and anguished expectation of the next assault. After five or six rounds - -Philip wasn't able to count - - the "research subject" heard a voice coming through an endorphin-induced haze.

"Research has proved the subject capable of undergoing the treatment," Lewis assessed in a doctor-like voice. "Now it is time to show him some other possible therapies."

"But of course, doctor," Billy grinned.

"Who will demonstrate?" Keith asked in an ingenuous tone, finding Lewis' role-play quite entertaining.

"Will you?" The self-claimed leader asked turning to the latest initiated recruits.

"Sure!" Philip's football team mates agreed.

"We're going to show you the classic kneeling hog-tie," Keith started, "it's an effective way to subdue a reluctant patient. First of all, let's make sure the prisoner is relaxed enough. Billy?"

"Indeed, Dr Keith," his friend agreed flashing a wide grin.

They gently massaged Philip's limbs for a while.

"Do you think the patient's apparent relaxed state is normal?" The pixyish blond asked mischievously.

"It's nothing unusual, Dr Keith. It's a normal physiological reaction."

Philip blushed and smiled at the same time.

"Remain professional, lads, you wouldn't want to embarrass our patient, would you?" Lewis scolded.

"You're right. He seems relaxed enough, so let's untie his legs."

Philip would have died with embarrassment in other circumstances, but he felt OK with these comments, that were not scornful in the least. He still let out a grunt to express some disapproval, but everyone in the room could hear it was half-hearted.

Straddling a thigh each, Keith and Billy unknotted the ropes at the knees, and untied them from the bed frame also, folding them in two neat coils. They used one to lash his ankles once they'd gotten down to freeing his lower legs from the spread-eagling ropes.

"As you may notice, at no time the patient is allowed to kick or buck," Billy commented, enjoying the improvised medical theme.

They then retrieved the ankle ropes, using the five or six-foot lengths to lash three turns of the white cotton cord above his knees and at the top of his thighs. They then threaded the ends between his legs that they lifted slightly from the damp mattress.

They proceeded to their captive's arms, removing the restraints at the elbows, and then sitting on the upper arms before taking care of those at the wrists.

"Could you assist us in disposing of those ropes, Dr Ben?" Billy asked in a serious tone.

"I could indeed." Ben playfully answered, untying and coiling the pieces of rope that had stretched Philip's arms as Keith and Billy went on with their demonstration.

They had gotten back to the bed's sides, keeping their grip on the prisoner's wrists. They looked at each other before plunging their eyes inside the prisoner's whose gaze was going from one boy to the other, a faint grunt asking what was next.

"Sit up, dear patient," Keith explained.

Philip abode, feeling his arms being gathered behind his back with his wrists crossed. He felt the rope encircling them, three snug turns of the thick soft rope with the cinching and knotting that came next let him know he would not use his hands for any sign language purposes until someone would untie them.

Philip would have certainly not fought his captors, for he was revelling into what was happening to him, but he thought he couldn't have had he wanted to. He remembered letting his brothers tie him up, pretending he was resisting a little, but this time, Keith and Billy's moves were skilled and strangely smoothing. He went with the flow of the two considerate and skilled friends.

He was turned back on his stomach.

"Let's now restrain the patient's legs. Thoroughly." Billy announced to his audience.

Keith grabbed Philip's ankles and lifted them in the air; Billy threaded the two ends of the rope lashed at the lower sides below his knees, leaving them dangle there.

"Time to fix the patient's ankles," Billy said as he grabbed the ropes just under Philip's butt; he got them around the lashing restraining his ankles, Billy's nimble fingers pushing the thread on each side of the turns of rope.

"OK, bring his ankles down, Keith!"

Philip knew what was going to happen. He'd better not resist so it would move on to the next step faster. On top of it, there was this strange comfort in being handled by Billy and his blond friend. Keith pushed the legs down until the balls of Philip's feet made contact with the hem of his shorts.

Billy tied the two ends of the rope he had in hand in a solid square know, making it impossible for Philip to unfold his legs. He then went back to the knees, gathering the two dangling threads and turning them around, both above and below; and with the remaining length he cinched and knotted the lashings that encircled Philip's knees; then there was just a tight little buckle tightly knotted.

"Good. We're going to get our little hog-tyee on the floor for the next step." Billy said as he turned to the three boys watching.

He then grabbed Philip's knees and spun him around across the bed; Keith held the boy's shoulders and accompanied the circular motion until Philip's doubled-up legs were off the mattress. He then pushed gently as his friend lowered the knees to the floor. He then swiftly came to join Billy; each boy seized a shoulder to lift their captive and lower him onto the rug in a kneeling position.

Keith and Billy sat on the edge of the bed facing their "patient", who noticed he was not the only one experiencing the normal expected reaction they'd been talking about. Not to mention the ministrations he had been given had cooled him down in the least. So much for making fun of them, with the ball of nylon crammed into his mouth. And his cheeky smile had very little chances to get caught by the two companions.

"Now time for your arms," Billy said, grinning mischievously at his prisoner.

He found the middle of a twenty-five-foot-long rope and placed it behind Philip's neck. Both ends were passed under his armpits and gathered behind his back.

"Go get the rope, Keith."

The blond boy kneeled behind Philip and caught both ends. The two partners in crime then threaded the long rope symmetrically from rear to front and back. Five minutes of weaving the long strands of rope around the arms, the chest and the torso made Philip's upper-body a neat package; coils and criss-crosses made it impossible for the prisoner to lean much, either back or forward. He was forced to remain kneeling by the intricate rope work the two friends had skilfully knitted his body in.

Though the position was far from being comfortable, Philip was awestruck at the mastery displayed by his friends. He knew already of their eagerness to win on a football field, but he was now aware of the talent they had for restraining someone. What could possibly come next? Were there more thrills in store to arouse this new feeling of trust and surrender in him?

© Copyright Bondwriter 2007

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