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Knotty Peril on the Island - Chapters 1 & 2
🕑 Added 2021-08-14 03:58:01 +0000 UTCHere is the product of another collaboration with BC. It was fun doing an illustrated version again. Here is the first installment, which has two chapters. The other chapters will be posted one by one. I will update the pdf with the new chapter weekly.
This week's pdf: https://www.dropbox.com/s/q23w4fik9g89ye4/KnottyPeril-Chapters-1-2.pdf?dl=0
Chapter 1 – The Good Deed
The big day for Michel’s Boy Scouts patrol has arrived. His mind is busy with all the details as he finishes brushing his teeth and combs his short brown hair. He needs to look good: in three hours his patrol will welcome the audience in the parish’s hall. He puts his carefully ironed blue shirt on, straightens his scarf ring, and smiles to himself in the mirror.
The patrol has called for a public meeting with parishioners this Sunday morning at 11:00 after mass. Having to prepare the event gives the boys a good excuse to skip church.
It’s nine when Michel meets his friends. When their help is needed, they answer the call wholeheartedly. Charles is there first, but Jean, Marc, Éric, and Patrick arrive within five minutes. Michel has been with these boys since he was a Cub Scout. Patrick is his age; at fourteen, they’re the seniors in the patrol. Charles, Éric, and Marc are one year younger, and Thomas is the twelve-year-old newbie—it’s his first year with the Scouts. They set up the chairs in neat rows and stick up the posters to present their project.
They all wear their blue Boy Scouts shirt and accompanying blue scarf, but there is no official bottom to their outfits. Being 1984, the boys prefer jeans rather than corduroy trousers, except for Charles; he likes to wear his football shorts. He owns many of the tight and shiny kind that’s so fashionable; he’s told his friends he enjoys the fresh air on his legs.
Far from discussing fashion, they get busy. Thomas was the one who got the idea of pledging for a walk. A penfriend from the time he went to England on a school exchange told him people pledged money for charity and then donated once the walk was completed.
Though their troop doesn’t have the wealthiest Scouts, the parish does host people with means. When a bike accident put Sylvie’s little sister, Delphine, in a wheelchair, the whole troop wanted to help. Sylvie is a popular Girl Guide. Both groups share activities and camp close to each other. They are tight-knit, and solidarity prevails.
Thomas made the case for his idea last month; it seemed faster than the usual ways to raise money such as washing cars or gardening, as they did in the fall. Éric was chased by a small dog that bit his jeans’ legs, and the old lady who’d hired their services barely thanked them—and to rub salt in the wound, she had no drinks or snacks to offer. Michel thwarted the protests on their way back, pointing out they did it for the troop’s welfare, not to stuff themselves with sugar.
People start trickling in the hall. The Girl Guides arrive. Sylvie and Valérie, from two different groups, are close school friends that get noticed whenever they get somewhere. They greet the boys and gather with their own patrols. They support the event, of course, and have advertised it. Sylvie has shown lots of gratitude. More than fifty parishioners are soon sitting in the hall.
Michel doesn’t want the audience to get bored. The patrol takes the stage, and one of their troop leaders plays the guitar. They sing a classic Boy Scouts song and an adaptation of a current radio hit; Marc and Thomas rewrote the lyrics to fit their event, explaining that if everyone helped a little, they could be a big help to a friend.
They get cheers, especially from the Guides. When the clapping subdues, Thomas steps forward.
“Good morning, ladies and gentlemen, and welcome to Saint Stephen Hall. As you all know, our friend Delphine has suffered a lot. We want her to be able to start school in September in good conditions. Her parents’ house needs some major renovation to accommodate her wheelchair. She might be out of it in six months … or she might never recover the use of her legs. In any case, the work needs to be done soon!”
Michel is impressed by his mate and sees the grown-ups in the audience moved by Thomas’s words. They’re going to pledge a lot!
“To raise the money she needs, we’re willing to not only walk a long distance, but do so wearing the costumes you suggest, for twice the price.”
“Even barefoot and in your undies?” Valérie suggests, which gets the girls to guffaw.
“This a serious matter, girl,” a mother chides Valérie.. “What would you pay to have them walk like that, then?”
“Two-thousand francs! That’s what we have collected for the last two weeks.”
Admiring whispers ensue.
“Since it’s for a good cause, we’ll do it,” Thomas replies, miffed.
“What about in a chain gang too, with collar irons like slaves from the ancient world?” she asks.
“Why not? If you double your pledge.”
“Sure,” she snaps back, smirking.
Thomas goes on calling for pledges as his friends go through the crowd filling out forms. He sees a man raise his hand.
“Excuse me, young man, but I have another suggestion.”
In a stern grey suit, the man is much better dressed than the rest of the audience.
“Of course,” Thomas prods him.
“From what you said and the posters you put up, the renovation will be performed in stages, because you don’t expect to raise all the money at once.”
The boys nod, intrigued.
“I’m here on behalf of a man who’s greatly impressed by young people who help others. When he read of your enterprise in the paper, he asked me to represent him today. He’s willing to finance your entire project if you’re willing to follow his conditions.”
The man pulls a sheet of paper out from his briefcase.
“The San Gennaro walk has been around for centuries and is intended for youths from various regions and countries. It involves challenges, hardships, but also joy. Based on an ancient pilgrimage, it has become a leading charity event over the last decade. We’ve hosted youth charities who’ve dedicated their summer to community service. This year again, the event will run from July 16 until July 30. The walk will cover eighty kilometres through our Mediterranean island’s breathtaking landscapes, discover local traditions, and meet other Scouts.”
The announcement pleases the parents, who know their boys love adventure and exotic settings. The troop master realizes that the walk would mean one less patrol to look after at the summer camp this year. Michel’s little gang can be difficult to handle; they have a taste for mischief, even if they’ve got a good heart. It’ll be less work for him. The Boy Scouts have a quick chat with the troop master and their parents: they have no strong feelings on the proposal. Knowing their sons will help Delphine’s parents makes them proud; yet, Thomas’ father thinks the destination is a little far away. The troop master, , realizing that he won’t need to have “the talk” at camp again, since the patrol also has a reputation for late-night forbidden games, is now fully in favour.
The man interrupts the group after thirty minutes and no signs of reaching a decision.
“If I may, I might offer some food for thought. My client researched Delphine’s case, and a neurosurgeon friend has been designing innovative spinal surgeries. This groundbreaking treatment isn’t yet covered by health insurance, but for fifty kilometres, he’s willing to finance it, so that Delphine fully recovers.”
The parents are impressed; one of them is a doctor who’s heard of the new treatment. Hope arises from the crowd. The lawyer smiles.
“The philanthropist behind this event will cover all expenses; your boys will get all the clothes and equipment they need and keep them afterwards. Our benefactor also provides for university tuition to those who do the march the whole way.”
The boys are far from having these concerns, but their parents see the lads growing up fast; having a wealthy patron to finance their studies would mean one concern less to deal with. The lawyer gives them brochures and leaflets and lets the assembly talk for another five minutes.
The boys and the parents are convinced, and this time the man hands out application forms. The European trip is great news, and the people in the hall cheer as they move on to the picnic outside the parish that concludes the gathering. All the boys cooked something, and good food abounds.
Valérie comes and check on Michel.
“Congratulations, but we still pledged to see you walk around in your undies. You’ve got the afternoon to make us whole,” she whispers in his ear.
Michel is a man of his word; they’ve got to deliver.
“I’ll get the patrol,” he says without flinching.
They meet Valérie and the four other Guides of her team one hour later at the back of the large courtyard the hall is in. The end is hidden by big hedges, and it’s where the youths do things they don’t want adults to be aware of. The guides want to rehearse their parade.
Valérie isn’t alone. Sylvie is there too.
“Boys, I can’t thank you enough for helping my sister. Still, Valérie, Christelle, Stéphanie, and I pledged to see you walk chained and gagged, and now we claim our prize!”
The boys are no strangers to tie-ups; many of their games have ended with someone roped and usually gagged to squelch calls for help. Having girls do the tying-up isn’t much in their customs, but they cannot chicken out now.
“Should I undress or get my hands behind my back?” he asks.
“Both!” Valérie laughs. “You’ll all show your underwear and walk barefoot. Who do you pick to have their wrists bound and mouths gagged, Sylvie?”
The teenage girl looks at her preys, a wicked smile stretching her mouth. She points at Charles, Éric, and Jean. The patrol is willing to get it over with quickly, and they soon stand in just their underwear on the gravel. Sylvie and two other Guides take care of her picks; they have rope to bind their wrists behind their backs. Charles yelps when Sylvie tightens the ropes, which earns him a handgag.
“Quick, bring me something to gag him with!” Sylvie says.
The five Guides have always enjoyed these moments together with the boys: the troop had many gullible ones, and they enjoyed toying with them. And if Sylvie puts her plan to play, they will make sure the three lads will remain silent.
Laurence holds the items she’s picked from the first aid kit: gauze and tape. Sylvie releases Charles’s mouth, which her friend packs with a massive amount of gauze before Sylvie plasters his lips with tape. She picks Charles’s scarf from the pile of clothes at his feet and folds it into a bandage wide enough to cover his face from under his nose to his chin. She tightens the scarf so it squeezes his cheeks.
“Good, Charles. It makes you look clever.” Laurence laughs.
“He’s got cute swimming briefs,” Sylvie remarks, “and a great body to show!”
She slaps Charles’s bum playfully. His swimming costume is indeed a testimony to the genius of modern petrochemistry. Charles has an interesting bum on top of trunky, muscular thighs, and the Lycra that covers it enhances the remaining flesh. Charles blushes behind the tape.
The five others stand in their undies, their clothes folded in front of them.
“You should all have your hands bound and you should all be gagged,” Valérie says. “Otherwise, it’ll look gawky.”
The boys don’t say much, aware the pledge was for them to parade bound and gagged anyway. They all wait for their turn. Michel and Éric are gagged with their own ankle socks and thin strips of tape. Valérie topped the initial layer with three turns of grey duct tape, the heavy-duty stuff that’s so helpful around a campsite.
The girls use scarves on Marc, Thomas, and Patrick to keep the stuffing in. They avoid the sticky stuff but they get two socks—from each other—inside their gobs. And the two scarves are tied tight, the first pulling the corners of their lips back tight and the second making their jaws solid.
The girls sit on a bench and order the boys to walk around it in a circle.
“Keep your head higher, Thomas!”
“Stand straight, Éric.”
“Charles, make your bum wiggle more!”
This lasts for ten minutes until Laurence gets up and leaves. She isn’t away for long: she brings back almost all the Guides and the Jeannettes , who mock and point at the boys.
Two of them, sporting freckles and a mischievous smile, hold switches which they use to get the Scouts to move faster. They’re made to walk under the taunts for an hour, the boys looking at their feet and wanting the moment to end. Some have conflicted feelings, since being kidnapped by girls is a fantasy they have had before.
Valérie decrees the rehearsal is over, and the boys are promptly released. They jump into their clothes, some having to retrieve the footwear their friends kept warm and wet in their mouths.
They go back to the hall, where the party is going on loudly with music and laughs. A father brought a small barrel of wine, which most of the guests have partaken in. The boys mingle, basking in praises for their bravery. They’re happy; the time at the hands of the Guides wasn’t so bad. Charles can’t wait for it to happen again.
Chapter 2 – Try-Outs
It’s early June, and the six Boy Scouts of the patrol hold a meeting. They check everyone has all the documents to travel abroad and the forms signed by their parents. The troop master is busy with the summer camp, but Michel can handle the preparation for their team.
Valérie enters the lair without knocking.
“Doing paperwork, boys? Since your summer camp is wholly organized for you, we can’t let you idle for a whole month. After all, you still owe us that parade we paid for!”
The boys mumble, not too sure. On the Mediterranean island, they’ll have to obey their followers, those who will ensure they actually walk the pledged kilometres.
“The parade is also good preparation for your trip. You see, I’m leading the followers’ group with other Girl Guides. The San Gennaro organization needs eyes, and we qualify. Having you in a procession next Saturday would help us prepare for the real thing. The weather will be nice, and even if it isn’t, it takes only half an hour to cross downtown.”
The boys look at each other, flabbergasted. No one wants to be the chicken, though. Michel stands up and speaks for the group.
“Of course, next Saturday at two in the afternoon, from Charles de Gaulle square to the République avenue.”
Valérie smiles and wishes them goodbye. Once she leaves, five frowning faces turn to Michel.
“What? We can’t turn her down! We’ve walked in front of twenty girls. Having to stroll down the street for half an hour is nothing!”
Complaining ensues, but in the end, Michel prevails. Once the administrative tasks are taken care of, the boys make plans to meet after lunch the following week. They end their meeting with a football match and go home, relishing the idea of being bound and gagged by the girls.
On Saturday, they gather fifteen minutes before the scheduled time. Valérie shows up and takes them inside a clothing store.
“It’s my aunt’s. We may use the storage as a dressing room. She won’t open until four, so we won’t bother her.”
She takes them across the shop and opens the storeroom behind. Sylvie and Laurence are standing in front of a table loaded with gear. The Guides are dressed in their uniform, a light blue polo shirt and brown skirts. However, Michel’s attention is drawn to the iron collars on the table and the rest: chains, locks, coils of rope, rolls of tape, rolled-up socks; the girls are prepared.
“Strip to your undies and don’t be difficult, and we’ll be super nice.”
Michel’s pep talk ten minutes before works: nobody says a word, and the six boys boldly shuck off their t-shirts and shorts; they remove their socks and stick them in their shoes. They stand, dressed in underwear they’re used to walking around in: swimming briefs.
The girls pick up the collars.
“We wanted a slave look so people think you’re brave. Cast iron is heavy, but I was told you’re tough boys,” Valérie explains.
The cold metal ensnares their necks, though there’s enough slack to avoid a choking feeling. Rough hemp-rope coils bind their wrists next, keeping them crossed behind their backs. Below the shoulders, the girls add turns that they thread and weave to pin the boys’ arms to their torsos.
Thomas gasps when Laurence cinches the harness, which has her roll her eyes.
“We’ll have to do something about them making noise.”
“Sure,” Sylvie replies with a mischievous grin.
One by one, the teen boys get their gobs filled with clean rags or garments, which Sylvie advises to make plentiful. Their own scarves are used to keep the packings in, pulled tight as cleave gags. The girls add thin, wide strips of fabric, competing to bind the tightest cup around the boys’ jaws.
“I said we’d be kind, so we’ll save you from being recognized by your schoolmates during the parade.”
The boys all sigh inwardly, since that was the biggest concern in this challenge. Their eyes, foreheads, and even their noses’ bridges disappear under thick, masking cotton that the girls knot behind their victims’ heads.
“One last thing, to make sure you can’t run away!” Valérie cheers.
The boys feel cotton rope coiled around their thighs, just above their knees, hobbling them with ten centimetres of slack. Charles gets nervous about hands touching his thighs when he’s wearing his black Speedos, his favourite swimwear. He doesn’t want a girl to point out he’s having a boner. And blind as he is, he can’t even tell if it shows.
The Guides link the Scouts in a chain gang with fifteen centimetres between each neck. It puts them in a promiscuous situation. Michel is first; he feels Thomas right behind and his friend’s cock sliding over his bum. It doesn’t last; the leader feels a dog leash snapped to the ring above his Adam’s apple and a light tug that prods him forward.
“We’re off, boys,” Valérie announces. “One kilometre for you. It’ll be deduced from all those you will have to walk this summer.”
She lets her charges find their pace. The boys have played enough games involving coordination and trust to do fine. Laurence notices they all lift their legs together, making the line an amusing caterpillar. A church nearby strikes two as they step outside the store.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” they hear Valérie bellow, “here comes Troop 26. They’re Scouts, they’re young, and they’re brave! To help out a young lady in distress, they will sacrifice their holidays!”
She’s worked on her patter, and she praises her captives despite the demeaning walk. The blind boys hear people whisper, and some even heckle them.
“Good for you! You’re training for marriage already.”
The girls beam, as the crowd is pleased; the boys get mockeries on their looks, but no one dares make a misogynous statement.
Thomas counts his steps and focuses on following the group’s pace; it makes him impervious to outside voices. They must be close to their destination, as they start walking on cobblestones found on the last stretch of the street that leads to the République avenue. Is it going to be over so soon?
The gang stops one minute later. The bright sun blinds them when the scarves covering their eyes are removed.
“You’ve done great, boys. You kept your word and we’re grateful for it,” Valérie tells Michel once he’s recovered his sight. She reaches for the lock at his neck and removes it, and then she goes down the line so the six get unlinked. The boys await their release, so they may go back to get their clothes without being ‘slaves,’ but the Guides have decided otherwise.
“You can see now, so you can find your way back. Don’t dawdle!”
Eric and Marc beg to be released, but the girls are long gone. The boys turn to Michel, who shakes his head towards their destination and leads the way. He turns to the right almost immediately, taking an alternative route that avoids the busy main street the girls led them through.
It doesn’t save Patrick from running into one of his schoolmates, who is with older teens and mocks the boy. School isn’t over, and no doubt he’ll get teased for weeks to come. His own helplessness gets him aroused, and he hopes his swimwear—and keeping right behind Marc to conceal his crotch—will hide his condition. The old city is a maze: not using the main, modern streets means turning around a lot, stretching the distance. The hobbles don’t help, but eventually, the store is in sight.
“You dawdled,” Valérie rebukes the boys when they arrive.
“Not very chivalrous,” Sylvie comments.
“Since you like being bound and gagged so much, I think your patrol deserves another challenge this afternoon.”
“It’s not a challenge, it’s practice,” Sylvie clarifies.
“True. They need to get used to being seen wearing swimwear and restrained. It’s a skill to learn!”
“They could get a badge!”
“The captive badge! Earned because you’re very quiet and never say no!” Laurence giggles.
Valérie drags the group to the back of the store. There’s another space beyond, a large storage place filled with coatracks and cardboard boxes.
“You won’t be disturbed here. If you don’t want anyone to see you, you’re safe.”
Patrick grunts dejectedly, which doesn’t bother Valérie.
“At the same time, being seen means someone could free you.”
Valérie doesn’t bother with explanations: she tackles the task at hand with her accomplices. She’s cleared a clothes rack and lowered the telescopic posts at each end so the bar runs one metre above the ground. Michel is first: Laurence removes his hobbles and has him straddle the bar, tiptoeing all the way to the front.
Cotton ropes in hand, Valérie kneels down to bind Michel’s ankles. She links the six cinched turns imprisoning his feet to a bar at the bottom. She does his knees and the top of his highs. He’s tall enough his junk is an inch above the top bar; she wraps his hams, binding the rope to the bar in the process.
His friends follow; the girls are eager to get done and go window shopping—a must when in the town centre. They don’t rush, though. Valérie suggested a scenario that requires perfect knots. Thomas and Charles aren’t tall enough: even on tiptoe, the bar goes up their butts, which they deem uncomfortable. Moans and grunts get a reaction:
“Don’t be wimps, boys. You’ll have to go through much worse during the walk!”
“Grit your teeth!”
Since being deemed a wimp is the major fear of any teenage boy, the protests stop. The swishing sound of cotton rope being bound and the girls’ giggles are the only faint sounds in the storeroom. The girls put the boys’ collars back on, and the Scouts realize they’re at the same distance as during the parade.
“The beautiful sight of quiet boys! Some of their teachers would sure love using our technique!”
“We get boys back in line!” Laurence jokes, triggering her friends’ giggles.
“They’re all set. I think we did a good job,” Valérie self-congratulates after one last check. “Time to go. The stores are waiting for us! Meanwhile, boys, you need to escape. It’s three thirty, so my aunt will be here soon. If you can’t defeat our knots, get her mercy! She will get you out of this pickle.”
The girls disappear in a second, shutting the door. The boys assess their situation; the ropes are tied tight. The knots are out of reach.
They all know Morse code, and Michel grunts ‘try.’ His mates wriggle and writhe further, the bar passing on their vibrations. Michel tries to move backwards, hoping his hands can reach a knot binding Patrick, who’s right behind him. His ankles are too well bound, though. He tries leaning back. His hair brushes Patrick’s face, but he isn’t any closer to working something out.
The room is not big and has a low ceiling; the temperature rises as the escape attempts consume lots of energy. Charles is the only one who can move his feet; one of Sylvie’s knots were flimsy, but his ankles stay together. He moves backwards, hoping Thomas can do something about his bound hands from beyond.
He’s been close to other boys often, but it feels different this time. Is it Thomas’s hard-on he feels against his fingers? He removes them immediately, grunting a ‘sorry’ that thankfully can’t give away what happened.
TBC
Comments
oliviertits
je pense que des garçons qui attachent des garçons ont plus d'expériences...
Mon gouût va vers las garçons ligotés et bâillonés, si ce sont des filles qui font du bon boulot... J'espère que le choc n'a pas été trop grand. My taste is for bound and gagged boys, if the girls do a good job. I hope it wasn't too much of a shock.
oliviertits
Des Filles !!!!!!!!!!!!!!
