The Last War Of Summer - Conclusion

by RichardUK

The water arrived and Chris drank gratefully. Then he looked at Peter and Roger and pleaded with them to help him. I was not sure whether he was putting on an act for our benefit or genuinely worried, but unfortunately he was wasting his time.

"Sorry chum, not this time," said Peter. "We have given our word not to interfere and you would not wish us to break our solemn promise. Besides, your brother is a Tiger. You saw what they did to Mike last night and rumours are spreading that the gag was only the half of it. I'll tell you truly, it made my flesh creep!" Chris subsided on the ground and groaned - realization was dawning that he had walked right into this situation with his eyes open and had no chance of escape or rescue.

"We had better put his gag back," David suggested. He had already brought the cloths out since we had agreed together to relieve Chris of the wooden peg. Our prisoner realized that any resistance would be futile and cooperated fully as his mouth was bound. With the gag in place, we stood back and looked at him. Chris was already tense with anticipation of the coming assault. We had removed his trainers and socks and he lay there dressed only in his (short) shorts, the skin on his ribs taught and his back arched. Beads of sweat were already showing on his forehead - almost I felt sorry for him.

We had agreed to let Matthew and Paul have the first go and they launched their attack simultaneously, Paul tickling the bare soles of his feet while Matthew did the same to his ribs. Chris tried to writhe in his bonds to avoid the searching fingers but I knew from experience this was impossible - the stakes allowed him no freedom whatsoever. Soon he was giggling and mmmpppfhing into his gag while tears rolled down his cheeks. Our team kept it up for five minutes and then stopped. Chris seemed to collapse as he relaxed his taut muscles and gasped through his gag.

"That was just a little demonstration," Matthew told him. "We'll give you a few minutes rest and then get on with the real session."

Once more the water bottle was fetched and Chris drank. He had given up pleading for mercy when we freed his mouth and was philosophical when his gag was replaced. We now arranged teams to take it in turn tickling him, each bout lasting for 10 minutes. Between each bout we gave him five minutes rest to catch his breath and have a drink if he wished.

After four more sessions we finally told him the tickling was finished. Poor Chris relaxed, let his head sink to the ground and closed his eyes. He was covered in sweat and his face was tear stained. His hair was lank, caked in the dirt and dust he had stirred up in his futile struggle to avoid his torturers. I looked at him and now really did feel sorry for him but was not going to let this divert me from my final plan.

We had prepared some sandwiches for an early lunch, so while the food was brought out I untied Chris's gag once more. He had expected me to free him but I waited until everyone was gathered round our victim.

"I expect you're hungry Chris." He nodded. "Well, before we let you up I need you to agree to one more thing." A look of deep concern passed over his face. "When we leave here you are to go as I was made to last time, that is with your hands tied behind your back as our prisoner until we reach home."

I could see Chris thinking over the indignities that were poured on me that day and in a moment he replied, "Never!"

"OK, suit yourself. The alternative is that we leave you where you are, securely gagged, until the oldies come to collect our gear. I'm sure they will release you. You will look faintly ridiculous in nothing but your shorts and when they ask you how you got into this situation what are you going to tell them? That you volunteered for it?"  Everybody laughed. "Put his gag back and give him some time to think about it."

David knelt with the cloth but Chris shook his head violently, "What will you do when we reach home? I can't let Mum and Dad see me like this!"

“You'll just have to trust me," I said. "My mates here will act as your escort and perhaps they will do a better job of protecting you than they did me."

Chris groaned and suddenly gave way. "It doesn't seem like I have much choice really," he said.

"No, you haven't," I grinned and we began untying his wrists. "Don't think you are getting any chances to play tricks on us. Sit up, lean forward and put your hands behind your back." With his ankles still lashed to their stakes he had no choice but to comply, Robert moved behind him, crossed his wrists and in a few moments his hands were tied.  Only now did we free his ankles, then it was back to the log while we fed him some lunch his hands tied behind him all the while. When we had done eating the rest of the group started to clean up and complete the packing while I tied Chris's ankles to keep him out of mischief.

 While I worked on the knots Chris said softly, "You won't really show me up in front of Mum and Dad will you?"

I retorted angrily, "I gave you my word, Chris. Don't you trust me or do you think I am going to betray you like you did us yesterday? Ask Mike how we treated him last night!"

Chris looked perplexed. "Yesterday was different. I wasn't the only one involved in the conspiracy against you and your mates, or even the ring leader, but what do you mean about Mike?"

I hung my head slightly and said softly, "We only put the gag on him when you woke us up this morning. We untied his hands after we went to bed although he didn't know until this morning because he went to sleep before we could set him free. We never intended to keep him tied up all night."

Chris looked surprised, and then more gently said, "You're a big softy really, aren't you, kiddo? And you have a generous nature. You stopped them torturing me just in time too - another two minutes and I am certain I would have peed myself. I'll put my trust in you, but can I have my shirt back before we leave for home?"

“I'll think about it." I grinned and joined the others doing the final packing.

At last our clearing up was complete. We were all tired from the excitement but gathered around our prisoner one more time.

"Well, time for home Chris. Are you all ready?" he nodded but said nothing.

"OK, so long as you promise no tricks you can have your shirt." He was subdued now and gave his word straight away. Mike untied his hands and I handed over his spotlessly clean tee shirt and watched as he put it on.

"I suppose there is no point in begging for mercy at this stage?" he enquired.

"None what so ever, " I replied.

Mike pulled Chris's arms behind his back then looked at me. "Perhaps you would like to do the honours this time, Richard?" he asked, so I stepped behind Chris, pulled his arms behind him and crossed his wrists. I took extra care pulling the loops of rope tight, managing to extract a couple of very satisfying yelps from my captive and when I had finished with the rope cinched off and knotted well out of his reach I stood back and admired my efforts. I felt I had excelled myself! Chris struggled for a few moments, working his bonds to test for any weakness but almost immediately gave it up. I was confident he would not be able to free himself.

Robert, David and James would accompany me and my brother home so we said our farewells, untied Chris's ankles, helped him up and started home.

As soon as we were out of sight I said, "Look, I don't see any reason for going past the beach which will be crowded. We'll take the long way home. We are most unlikely to meet anyone that way." Chris looked gratefully at me but said nothing.

Our journey was uneventful. We strolled along in a leisurely fashion, sometimes discussing the events of the previous day, sometimes making wild and extravagant plans for our next game (alas, some way in the future - the vacation was drawing to an end and school was about to restart) and occasionally making fun of poor Chris who bore it manfully and never once complained about being trussed up. We met no one. About a mile from home our path entered a grove of Olive trees and here I called a halt for a few minutes.

I ordered Chris to turn round and he did so, but peering over his shoulder said, "What are you going to do now?"

“I'm going to untie you, stupid. Hold still." I had made the knots very tight and it took a few minutes to work them loose. All the while Chris stood patiently.

When I had finished he turned to face me, rubbing his by now very tender wrists and said, "Thank you Richard, but why now?"

"I gave you my word to free you before we got home - I am just keeping it."

Chris smiled gratefully down at me, ruffled my hair once more and said, "Race you home!" He was off like the wind - he knew I had no chance catching him and we arrived at the back door hot, sweaty and out of breath.

Chris was still filthy from his exertions that morning. Our parents were shocked by his disheveled appearance, hoped we had enjoyed our weekend but wondered what on earth we had been doing. Both of us were always honest with our parents but on this occasion they received an evasive reply. They never pressed their case - I believe they suspected at least some of our nefarious deeds but they had the tact not to enquire too closely preferring to remain ignorant so long as we always returned in one piece. We both had bruises on our wrists (and I on my ankles too) but we were careful to conceal these until they vanished a few days later.

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