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An Autumn Camp Time to move on - we climbed out of the ditch into the nearest bushes, but as we did, so a silky voice said quietly, "One move and you are both dead! Place your pistols on the ground at your feet then put your hands behind your heads very slowly." It was impossible to tell where the voice was coming from and we looked at each other trying to decide what to do. I detected a gleam of fear in Paul's eyes but it was clear that resistance was useless (we had no target to shoot at in any case). I pulled my pistol from the waistband of my shorts and complied with the mysterious voice's instructions. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Paul do the same. The voice spoke again: "Now step away from the weapons to your left. Don't look around!" We did so and after 3 steps we were ordered to stop. We did so, remaining standing with our heads bowed and hands clasped behind our necks. "Now kneel down, side by side. Keep your hands where they are!" Feeling a little foolish, I did as I was instructed and sensed rather than saw Paul do the same. As he squatted beside me, I leant across and whispered, "This is one fine mess you got us into, Ollie!" Despite the tension, Paul couldn't help bursting into a fit of giggles but these were silenced by an imperious order not to talk. At the same time, I heard a rustle of bushes behind us. With our hands behind our heads it was impossible to turn and identify our captors but we were not kept in suspense for long - a moment later Andrew and Matthew appeared before us. This was my worst nightmare - the latter was grinning like the cat that got the cream. To say that Matthew was ecstatic would not be paying justice to the situation. He gloated over his brother, reminding him of all he had said the day before. I swear the poor boy was trembling as he knelt beside me although in reality he had a fair idea of what to expect and none of it was really new to him. It was simply that, in the past, Matthew had always been there to "get him off the hook" much earlier than the rest of us could reasonably expect. I came in for some attention too, as Matthew advised me of the wisdom of not getting involved with recidivists like his brother! It was obvious we were about to be tied up, and Matthew would ensure it was carried out with clinical precision. I was certain we would be unable to escape and he would go out of his way to make us as uncomfortable as possible. The big question was whether we would be left where we were, or marched back to be held at their base. I suspected the latter. I was grateful that our captors could not possibly know of our own prisoners - it would be better to keep it that way - but would they torture us for information on Stuart and James when they discovered we hadn't got our packages? Andrew was talking again, ordering us down on our stomachs and still refusing to allow us to move our hands. When at last he relented, it was to tell us to assume the familiar position with our hands behind our backs. I crossed my wrists and waited, but a moment later I felt my hands pulled gently but firmly apart and placed palm to palm. No time for thought - my captor pulled some of the rope from my pocket and moments later my hands were well and truly tied behind my back. I guessed they hadn't finished and, sure enough, a loop of rope was pulled up above my elbows, they were pulled together until they touched behind me, more loops followed and when the knots were finally tied off I lay quite still. Having a gymnast's flexibility, it wasn't particularly painful, although uncomfortable, but I knew it was futile to struggle - without outside assistance it was just not possible to get free. I saw Paul receiving the same treatment alongside me. He let out a slight yelp as his arms were drawn behind him but otherwise remained silent and kept still when his bonds were complete. Gags followed but we were not allowed the luxury of a simple cleave gag - loosely folded rags were stuffed firmly into our mouths and then secured with a second cloth forced well back between our teeth. As Matthew was completing tying mine he said to Andrew conversationally, "Strange that we haven't seen or heard Roger and David. They were coming this way so our friends here would have had to pass them." I remained completely passive but I was shocked to hear Paul utter a faint gasp. His gag had not yet been tied in place or perhaps it would have been stifled but I was sure our captors wouldn't miss it. Sure enough, Matthew whipped round, even as Andrew completed knotting the gag and exclaimed, "Are you two keeping something back?" There was an evil glint in his eye. I was not that easily intimidated and I remained silent and still, making no sign that I might have the least idea what was being hinted at, but we lived in an age of truthfulness. Paul had never lied in his life, certainly not to his family. "Economy with the truth" had yet to be invented. He made no reply but guilt fairly oozed out of every pore while he blushed to the very roots of his hair. We were lost! Matthew was like a hound on the trail of a fox. "So what little secret would you rather keep from your big brother?" he asked Paul jovially. He might have saved his breath - Paul had recovered himself and made no indication of having understood and in any case, we had been so efficiently gagged that it was impossible for either of us to respond. Nevertheless, I knew that we would not be let off that lightly. Matthew was itching for an opportunity to show Paul what he had given up and I was caught in the crossfire. With a feeling of impending doom, I awaited developments anxiously. Andrew and Matthew had moved away a few paces leaving us lying bound on the ground and sufficiently far that we could not hear their whispered conversation. When they returned, we were hauled to our feet and pushed unceremoniously further into the shrubs. In a few moments, we stumbled into a more open patch where a few trees were also growing, mainly young saplings but quite sturdy, tall and straight. Paul was shoved to the ground, face down once more, and ordered not to move - not desperately easy in any case with his elbows tied - and I was dragged towards one of the trees and forced to my knees, my back to the trunk. A moment later, I felt hands grasp my ankles, my feet were pulled backwards until my knees were either side of the small tree, and then, with my ankles crossed behind the trunk, I felt a lashing being applied to them. My trainers and socks were pulled off. Our captors had exchanged no words and the eerie silence was almost menacing. Now I was pushed forward and my arms and wrists were freed. I had no opportunity to struggle as my sweatshirt was pulled off, and naked apart from my shorts, my arms were pulled above my head, wrists forced behind the tree, crossed and tied together as carefully as before. I had been tied like this before and knew I was powerless to avoid anything that might be done to me. In normal circumstances I was desperately ticklish - a fact well known to all my mates - but stretched as I was with my back arched like a bow and the bare skin taut on my skinny ribs I felt unbelievably vulnerable. Our tormentors left me for the moment to deal with my buddy. He had been left lying facing away from me so until he was hauled to his feet he had no notion of how I had been trussed. When he saw me, a look of horror passed across his face and, despite his bound elbows he began to struggle. It was a waste of energy. A few minutes sufficed to see him stripped and trussed to another tree facing me, in exactly the same way. Without taking our gags off Matthew now asked us if we had anything to tell them. I was quite content to play this game to the end - I knew that one or other of us would crack fairly quickly but all the time these boys were toying with us there were fewer people out looking for Stuart and James. I shook my head vigorously. Paul's eyes were full of doubt - the way we were trussed was not very comfortable and it was a whole new experience for him - but after a moment he shook his head gamely. Without more ado, Matthew launched his first attack. It took me completely by surprise - I had expected him to go for his brother but it was on me! First he ran a finger tip gently down my ribs, tracing a meandering path as far as my belly button before following upwards to my armpits. I was almost hysterical. I squirmed desperately to try to avoid the searching fingers, although in truth our bonds left us precious little room for movement of any sort. His assault lasted only a short time - probably less than two minutes - but at the end I was a wreck. Tears were streaming down my face and I was gasping for breath as I tried to control my giggling. Turning to Paul, Matthew said, "So what do you think of it so far?" Without another word my friend was subjected to an assault of identical ferocity. When it stopped he was gasping for air while he writhed ineffectually in his bonds. No information had been discovered as we had remained securely gagged throughout, but this was a clever ploy on our inquisitor's part. They were well aware we would be more than talkative soon enough. As Paul's gasping lessened I felt hands reach behind me and my mouth was once more free. Matthew did the same for his brother and we knelt there, hot, sweaty and relieved to be able to breathe freely again.
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