Quite a boarding school!

by Bondwriter

25. Chasing the Cold Winter Away

The words that resounded in the room froze the ongoing entertainment for a couple seconds that seemed to last for an eternity. Lewis had jumped on Matt swiftly, hand-gagging him while mumbling some uneasy justification.

“He didn’t say the exact phrase that… Erm… I mean… It’s too late anyway, and…”

He couldn’t find more arguments. The uneasy look from Fred, and Phil rolling his eyes in disapproval convinced Lewis that there was no way out of this one. He removed his hand from Matt’s mouth. There wasn’t much more to say. He’d give the new recruit the control of the situation. He didn’t voice it out loud though. Pride prevented him to say anything more. An awkward silence lingered on for a few seconds, until Matt realized he was expected to take over.

“I think the captive scientist managed to get the secret message through. Now, why don’t you release the other side’s cheerl… uh, secret agents.”

Philip and Fred reluctantly set off unknotting the ropes that bound the three prisoners, as Lewis undertook to untie Matt.

“I thought we had gagged you thoroughly enough Matt,” Lewis said as he removed the piece of tape that still clung to Matt’s cheek, and then rid him of the small soggy bag that hung pitifully.

“I managed to chew off the ribbon that kept the bag in my mouth. From there, wetting the tape to spit the thing was child’s play.”

“I’m utterly glad the bag was sewn solidly and that you didn’t manage to rip the little sack with these sharp little teeth of yours, my friend, for if these grains had emptied in your throat… I can’t imagine how distressing this would have been for us.”

“Yeah, and lethal for me! Thanks for your concern over my safety,” Matt sniggered, “But you would have acted fast, no? And I paid particular attention to this.”

Billy, whose gag had also been removed, kept a stately tone to voice out his reproach.

“Really, Lewis, such safety matter should be thought of before. I also wonder about the use of sedatives to make sure you could kidnap Matt without having to meet any resistance from us…”

“Nothing in the rules forbids it,” Philip protested, coming to his friend and mentor’s rescue.

“Then the rules need to be changed,” Ben piped in.

“Yes,” Keith added, while putting his tracksuit on, “we haven’t covered all possibilities in the rules, but this definitely falls under cheating in my book.”

Lewis draped himself in a lordly silence, hoping his accomplices would take on themselves to get him out of this unpleasant situation. Sadly enough for his Highness, they didn’t counter the attacks that went on.

“Yeah, disabling your opponents with drugs is sneaky, not to mention dangerous,” Billy scolded. “I hope the three of you are not too surprised that this evening will be revenge time. And tomorrow, we should play an honest Capture the Flag, basic, no cheating. And we should change the teams too.”

Keith darted his green eyes on Billy, puzzled by such an announcement.

“Yes, K., I like being on your team and stuff. But these are games we’re playing. If it goes on like this, we’ll have two rival gangs, and with Lewis’ taste for drastic measures,” he said while looking at the great doe eyes wide open with indignation, “I’m afraid it will end up badly.”

“Not at all, my friend, not at all! I will confess to being a bit on the competitive side, but I’m a good sport too. Our small deceitfulness was just meant to enhance the game by having you in charge of rescuing the poor victim of a ruthless kidnapping, that’s all.”

He paused, and saw his audience was listening. His nature had to take over, and even in a position of defeat, his bluster had to go on.

“Isn’t it ironical that the poor kidnap victim actually saved the day for skilled, seasoned TuGGers like you?”

A wide grin revealed his white teeth. Ben took them back to some more immediate concerns.

“My grandparents will soon be waiting for us for dinner. Of course, you had planned to free us to get there too?” he asked, turning to Fred.

“Indeed we had!” Fred replied, with so much self-confidence that it sounded fishy. It was more than likely that it had not been part of the actual plans of the winners.

The pavilion was cleaned up of all traces of their coming, and they stopped at the one they had slept in the night before. They dropped their equipment, made sure they were presentable for dinner and headed to the farm’s main building.

Keith and Billy were trying to come up with something to warn Lewis and his cronies of what they could expect on their way back, but it was Ben who spoke out.

“Don’t you guys think you’re off the hook. I think this is a perfect occasion to give Matt an idea of what an after-game is like.”

Matt who’d been rather quiet and keeping to observing what was going on under his eyes, did approve.

“I sure would like to test the techniques I learned today of restraining someone on a chair.” The ensuing chuckle resounded ominously in the foggy forest, which dusk didn’t make too welcoming.

“A pink skirt!” Keith said. “A pink skirt!” He then repeated these words a third time, but the tone had subtly changed from entertained to threatening. As they reached their destination, Lewis had trouble hiding his concern. He knew he’d somehow made the other team quite eager for payback, and he also knew they were also creative. The pleasant smells of the rustic cooking that assailed him as he entered Ben’s grandparents’ house soothed his anguish temporarily.

Ben’s grandfather did notice that his grandson’s flamboyant friend was not as bubbly and effusive as the day before. There wasn’t much talk anyway, except for some discussion of them making the costumes —Ben didn’t like to lie, but it was for a greater good—and taking a long walk through the estate.

After an impressive amount of food was swallowed, three of the boys offered to help cleaning up the table and doing the dishes. The very subtle nod from Billy wasn’t noticed by the couple of elderly guests, but it did prompt Philip, Fred and Lewis to politely offer their services.

After politely parting, all seven boys walked back to the cottage. This time, the silence was ominous. Sombre thoughts were running through the head of the trio who, just a few hours before, thought this would be a day of complete victory.

The seven lads entered the cottage, with very different mindsets.

“I think some of us should change before we go on,” Billy said, pointing at the cheerleaders’ costumes. “How do you think we should exert our victors’ rights, Matt?” he then asked.

“Erm… Should we really have them wear these?” Matt said, looking contemptuously at the pink outfits, and nonchalantly pushing the hair that fell in front of his eyes.

“No payback, uh?” Keith wondered, concerned about the tenderfoot’s ability to get into their games.

“Oh, yes, I’m all for a payback,” Matt replied in a laugh that didn’t do any good to soothe the three defeated boys’ anxiety. “It’s just that we could show a little more creativity than using their own ploy.”

“You’re not going to have us in the nude?” Lewis’ alarmed voice meekly enquired.

This was a frank and joyous laughter that welcomed his question.

“Of course not! To please my own little fancy, I’d want you to wear the regulation shorts and socks, and your school uniform white shirt.”

Philip, Fred and Lewis looked at him, puzzled.

“Fast!” Matt ordered with an authority that he had not displayed thus far. Soon they were standing in a line, the white shirts impeccably tucked into the shorts. The mix of styles did not confer them as much ridicule as the girly garb, but it did look somehow inappropriate.

“Hands behind your backs,” Matt commanded. He was immediately obeyed. Ben, Keith and Billy were quick to tie the crossed hands. More rope at the elbows and at the shoulders, and most possible resistance was hampered.

Matt came closer to Lewis, whom Keith had bound. “It’s impressive how one can be brought down a peg or two in such a short time.”

“I’m just displaying some sort of fair-play. I know to admit I lost, and you won’t be able to thwmmmmbllMMM!” he protested vehemently. But Matt’s graceful hands muffled his reply mercilessly.

“I don’t think I want to hear any more of this logorrhoea,” he said, insisting on the last word, infuriating Lewis who just mmphed even more eagerly and shook his head. But Matt’s hands had a firm grip on his head.

“This is getting fun; Ben, would you bring some stuff to gag such a big mouth?”

“Sure,” Ben replied, “I can even give you a hand.”

Lewis was now showing some obvious signs of rebellion, and as he tried to kick Matt to have him let go off of his head, Keith grabbed his thighs, and quickly looped his ankles with a short piece of white rope, while commenting:

“Yes, I can understand your frustration, Lou, but guess what? You lost, and you don’t have much of a say in what Matt decided for you.”

Ben had gathered the necessary items for their silencing endeavour.

“OK, free his mouth, Matt, so I can get this inside,” he said bringing a substantial mass of white cloth to Lewis’ lips. The hand being removed strangely caused Lewis not to want to open his mouth anymore.

“If you’re going to be difficult,” Matt said while pinching Lewis’ nose. Lewis didn’t want to submit easily, which was even more enjoyable. But one can only hold one’s breath for so long; he had to eventually open his mouth, though he tried to keep jaws locked, just parting his lips. Matt immediately covered his mouth again.

“Don’t be daft, Lewis. I’m not into suffocating boys, but the longer it takes, the harsher the whipping will be!” And he removed his hand, the brown eyes widening in awe.

“Whippmmmmph!” Lewis tried to complain, which allowed Ben to stuff the ball of material inside Lewis’ gob.

“Nice one, Matt! Great trick!” Ben piped.

“Who told you it was a trick?” Matt said as he tied a silk scarf over Lewis’s mouth to prevent him from spitting the gag out. He turned to Ben and winked. He then had a look at the two other prisoners. They looked straight in front, pretending they were not aware of what was going on. Matt knew enough now to understand that the apparent lack of reaction certainly hid some surprise; but displaying it would give too much glee to their opponents.

“A good conductor should ‘sing’ properly too…” Matt sniggered, looking intently at Philip to remind him of the nasty part he'd played a few hours earlier; but he still wouldn’t budge. Keith was reassured by Matt’s ability to get into the general spirit.

Matt then took a roll of tape to put the finishing touch on Lewis’ gag. The two other captives gave way less trouble to the little gang, not wanting to aggravate their situation. Keith and Billy were now standing in front of the little party; they just enjoyed the show, which was very entertaining, as Philip and Fred were equally reduced to silence. They then eagerly listened to Matt as he got on disclosing his plans on what was to take place next.

“As I said earlier, I'd like to see if I've learned something from being tied up today. I had way enough time to think of a few things before I got rescued !”

“Hey, that's not fair, we- ”

“Hold on, Kay, the sarcasm wasn't intended for us...”

“Thank you, Billy; I had three hoodlums to look at. I must say I had time to visualise them in interesting positions. But I don't know for sure who I want to see in which. So I guess a little game is in order to decide who does what. I want to try out the ball tie. It seems to be the most unpleasant one, so the first to lose will have to go with it. Then a hog-tie, and lastly a nice, taut chair tie is in order.”

“And what game are you going to have them play to decide who gets which?” Ben asked.

“Oh, enough of wits for today, we'll go for plain skills this time. Could you please get a goblet, a pitcher of water and a salad bowl from the kitchen, Ben?”

“Right away, Matt!” Ben had no clue what th ese would be used for, but he was quite eager to find out. The three competitors-to-be stoically waited, wondering whether Matt would get them drenched in water, entertainment for which this was not the best season.

“I don't have anything too fancy in mind. I'm just curious to see how you handle moving around with your hands in your back. And a goblet in your hands.”

As Ben came back, Matt took the salad bowl from his hands.

“Can you put the goblet on the table and fill it with water?” he asked as he himself crossed the room and set the bowl at waist level on an empty bookshelf. “Don’t fill it to the brim; our contestants need a doable task.”

As he neared the three-quarter full glass, Matt took a permanent marker from his trousers’ pocket. He crouched to have his eyes level with the water and carefully drew a thin line to mark how the glass was filled. He stood up and, looking intently towards the three bound and gagged contenders, he launched into a lively speech.

“From what I know, the little Saint Sebastian club has practiced escape artistry a lot. This is all fine and dandy, and it is a much needed skill in case you do get caught by thugs. But we need to also train to move around while in bonds. Say for instance, you have been captured by terrorists, and the only way you’ve got to stop a ticking bomb is to fill the water bowl over there to disconnect the firing mechanism…”

The never-heard of mechanism got a sigh and a very visible roll of eyes from Lewis.

“Lewis? You think this isn’t serious? You may go first, then. That is, once your hobble has been loosened a bit… The one with most water brought over three trips wins.”

Keith had already understood what was expected from him and he was kneeling to lengthen the rope between Lewis’ ankles.

“Perfect,” Matt commented, “t hree inches it’ll be. Enough to allow some walking, and to require some attention.”

He had grabbed the glass of water and put it between Lewis’ hands.

“Got it? A firm grip on things? Nice. Then go ahead and don’t spill a drop!”

If there was one skill Saint Sebastian boys had developed over time too, it was to read the facial expressions on a face that was half-hidden by various layers of clinging material. And concentration could clearly be perceived on Lewis’ face. He took some small steps, and was obviously focusing on not tilting the glass. His slow progression was followed by cheers and advice from the viewers.

“Yeah! You’re almost there!”

“Nice strut, miss!”

The sniggers were not the cause of a single grunt. Lewis was aiming towards the bowl, which he reached slowly. He twisted and wriggled again to avoid having a single drop leak out, and poured the content of the glass in the basin. He turned around and cast a defiant look towards his captors before heading back to the starting point.

He went for two more perilous journeys, but he didn’t flinch at the mockery and calls.

“Ben, could you get a funnel and three empty water bottles?” The host obliged, and Matt poured the content of the salad bowl inside the first bottle.

It was then the turn of Fred, and Philip came last. But as the three bottles were lined up, they all had a rigorously equal level.

“It’s a tie!” Matt said as he turned towards the competitors. “I’m not surprised, of course…” he smirked at them. “But this won’t do. We need a first, a second and a third. So, let’s add another constraint: time.”

“Yeah,” Billy said, “you said the clock was ticking. So let’s have the biggest volume of water per second win!”

It was an approval from all the audience. Even Lewis and Fred nodded somehow. They’d noticed Philip had been particularly slow, so maybe they could actually avoid being the one who’d end up ball-tied by a gang of vindictive opponents.

So they took their turn again, with Billy using the timer on his watch to record the performance of them. This time, a little water was spilled, but as Philip was called to get ready, the volume of water in the bottles was almost similar. Both Lewis and Fred had managed to go a bit faster than the first time around, and still manage not to get much water on the tiled floor.

Once Philip was given his first glass, he surprised everybody by a bold move; holding the glass with his left hand, he covered the top as much as he could with the right one. Then he leaped. In five leaps he had crossed the room, whereas the two others had taken cautious mincing steps! Using the same strategy for his two other crossings, he turned towards his two opponents, a look of triumph in his eyes.

Billy transferred the liquid the black-haired boy had managed to salvage, as Ben frantically wiped the puddles that had formed with this second run. Billy scribbled down a few figures, to get the final results of the little test. His grin was admiring as he turned towards Phil.

“Quite a clever tactic there, Phil. Of course, coming up last, it was easier to assess, but this was clever nonetheless. You took five times less than your mates to do the job, so even with much more water spilled you’d have won anyway.”

Turning towards a wider audience, and eager no to lose a bit of Lewis’ likely reaction, he went on. “So the results are: first Phil, as I just said, then Fred, and last but not least… Lewis!”

“The perfect guinea pig for my ball-tie experiment!” Matt joyfully added.

Of course, the general mirthful atmosphere was not exactly shared by all. As always in similar cases that were getting to be frequent, Lewis used a technique to rationalise what was to happen: he was already thinking of how he’d get his revenge even before he’d been wronged.

And was he actually wronged. The trussing-up that followed proved to be expertly and rightfully performed, with Ben, Keith and Billy providing some excellent advice concerning the web of ropes that proved Lewis was flexible enough to touch his chin with his knees while having the balls of his feet brushing his buttocks.

He soon had the company of a hogtied Fred a couple feet away, and Phil overlooked them from the chair to which he was carefully united with taut, snug rope.

Matt wiped his forehead with the back of his hand.

“Blimey! This is quite a chore to take care of our friends. I feel like going to bed, untying them seems much too tiresome for me doing it today.”

The concerned grunts that ensued told him his tone had been convincing enough. Lewis and Fred, in particular, were buying his bluff and now relied on the other members to explain this wasn’t to be done. It took a while before Billy made clear that they wouldn’t be left like this for the whole night, enough to pour some more taunts and mockery upon the prisoners’ heads. A little longer was taken for comments on the technique used by Matt to truss up the three opponents, and they were eventually released. There were sighs of relief.

“Goodness, Matt,” Fred whined, “ th at was TIGHT…”

There was a faint smile over Matt’s face, and he took his most innocent look, with the little frown he knew was considered cute to utter a naïve. “Really?”

Lewis, recovering from the stringent ball tie, was stretching and had decided not to let his feelings take over. He yawned, and said , “Well, this wasn’t too bad. For a neophyte, I mean. I think we may call it a day. Of course, let’s declare a truce until eight tomorrow morning, and the planned Capture the Flag.”

Seeing the suspicious looks from Ben, Keith and Billy, Lewis looked at them wide-eyed both, his mouth slack and his lips twitching.

“Why? You don’t believe me, do you? This makes me very, very sad.” His tone carried the message as much as his face did.

“Mmh,” Keith replied, “But of course we do! But I’ll lock the bedroom door anyway.”

“If this may comfort you,” Lewis sighed.

© Copyright Bondwriter 2009

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