U. N. Known Writer

The Old Scout Hut

Chapter One

I'd known my interests differed from those of all my peers from the time I was twelve or so, but at that age I didn't know to keep them to myself although, as it happened, Josh Andrews, my best mate at the time, tuned out to have some of the same interests, thanks to his big brother.

When, Josh moved away with his family, later that summer, I didn't know what to do with myself, so my mum suggested that I go spend some time with my grandfather. This wasn't my idea of fun, but as it turned out, I learned more from him then I could have ever imagined.

I'd been named, William, after him, but to avoid confusion within the family I was usually referred to as Will and my mum probably thought that's why I liked to sit around listening to his stories but it wasn't I actually liked listening to the stories of the old days, and it wasn't long before I was in totally agreement with granddad, that kids, my age, sure did have a better time, back in his time. In those days, boys like me could do pretty much what they wanted, and often did, playing in the woods that surrounded StrangeOak , with the life long friends they'd met in scouts, and although when they did wrong, they got spanked, no one seemed to mind what they did to each other. And, by the sound of it, they did a lot to each other. Forever rough housing – as granddad called it – fighting, and playing all sorts of games that are now deemed too dangerous. Literally they ran amok, and nobody cared, as long as they came back at some point, and no questions were asked.

The scout troop granddad belonged to sure didn't sound like any of those that I had thought about joining, only to find that they contained more girls than boys, and didn't seem to do anything at their meetings but talk, and learn from books about camping and the other things that granddad did all the time. If I wanted to read books then I'd go to school. Instead I wanted to try out stuff like lighting and cooking over fires, self defence, the tactics of warfare and, in particular, how to take and survive being a prisoner. According to granddad that's the sort of things that his troop did all the time, often on their own, while their leader wasn't there. That's what I wanted more than anything else, as it was just how I'd been with Josh, in the final few months before he'd moved away.

It was very hot the day my relationship with Josh Andrews, changed forever. We were both twelve then, and, had taken to playing in the woods that backed onto Josh's house. These woods were fairly private, and although the public had access to them, we'd never seen anyone there, so we did pretty much what we liked. So we thought nothing of taking our shirts off, and play bare chested, in the shadow of the trees.

Then, when some time later, when we returned to the large tree that was directly behind Josh's back gate which we used as our base, and from which our abandoned shirts already hung, Josh said, "Hey why don't we take off our trousers too, that'll be cooler won't it?"

It was true, especially as the moment we'd moved up to senior school the previous autumn the pair of us – like all our peers – had instantly stopped wearing shorts for anything other than sports. That day, I was in a pair of camouflage trousers while, Josh had on a standard pair of jeans. Neither of which were particularly cool on such a hot day. So, naturally I agreed forgetting for a moment what I was wearing underneath.

Although it was something I would get into more, by the time I was fourteen, even at twelve, I was already morning the quickness with which my childhood seemed to be slipping away from me. One way I could fight that, without making myself a laughing stock was to wear my old, 'little boy' underpants. So that day, beneath my military trousers, I had on a small pair of cartoon character briefs, which I only remembered the moment my trousers were at my ankles and Josh was staring at the slightly too small underwear. However, although he laughed, it wasn't at me, cos as his own jeans dropped I saw he was pretty much in the same boat. His own underpants, were like mine, slightly skimpy and barely covered his entire bum.

"Dad said that they'd be useful if he ever wants to spank me!" he laughed, and I laughed along with him, as we both knew that Mr Andrews would never do that, no matter how much Josh mentioned it.

"Hey," Josh then said, "Why don't we take our undies off too?"

"What?" I'd shrieked, "We'd be naked!"

Josh smiled, "I know. But that's got to be cooler ain't it?"

"What if someone sees!" I protested.

"Like who? And anyway, it's not like you'd want anyone to see you in them panties anyway, is it, Will?"

The argument continued for a few more minutes, but, as always we ended up agreeing, like only best friends could do, and before too long, both our pants were hanging up on the branch along with the rest of our clothes, and once more we were off chasing aimlessly running around the woods.

It was the weirdest of feelings, the thrill of doing something so wrong and yet, at the same time, there was the fun of feeling the open air caressing those parts of your body that normally don't get caressed in that way, or in fact, in any way at all. If anything this was the one part of the stories granddad would tell me a few months later, that I could truly understand, as the sensation of being naked out doors isn't like anything else in the entire world, although I never did ask granddad if it had the same effect on him as it did on me, and Josh.

"Hey, you're dick's getting hard!" I pointed out some time later, pointing at my friend who was clearly pointing back at me, but without using his hands.

"So," he shrugged his somewhat bony shoulders, "Yours is getting there too."

And sure enough, when I looked down, my own penis was no long flapping about between my legs as it had been, but was now, starting to poke forwards, as if pointing the way ahead.

"Anyway," Josh continued, "I goes like that all the time now, doesn't yours?"

"Yeah sometimes!" I blushed.

"Dad says its totally natural and there's nothing wrong with it." Josh stated matter-of-factly, which was probably just how Mr. Andrews had said it to him, his dad being so much more open about these things than my dad was. Mind you, that was probably just as well, as without Mr. Andrews open talks to his youngest son, I doubt if I'd have known as much as I then did about masturbation, and had done since I was eight or nine.

There was one thing I didn't know about Josh, and that was, if he had taken to masturbation as much as I had recently, or if he thought about the same things I did, when he did it. We may have had an open relationship at that time, but there was still something that I knew it was better to keep to myself. Such as the thoughts of both myself and Josh being spanked on the bare bottom, that tended to crop up in my head, while I was playing with myself at night. The problem was, that now I was walking alongside, Josh, with the pair of us naked and stiff, my thoughts were starting to drift back in that direction once more, so, I made out I needed to pee, and ducked behind some bushes, in the hopes that relieving my bladder would make my stiffness go down a little.

It took longer than usual for me to pee, as it turned out not to be all that easy through a stiff penis, but when I returned to the spot where I'd left Josh he wasn't there anymore.

For a moment I stood there, wondering what was up, and if he was playing some sort of prank on me. Thinking this was probably the reason, I listen hard and eventually caught the sound of some noise coming from a small way down the path. So I headed in that direction.

Rounding the corner I found that I was both right and wrong. It had been Josh I'd heard, but it wasn't him playing a prank, but his big brother Leo, although I didn't realise that straight away. Unfortunately.

Josh was kneeling down in the centre of the path, with his hands behind his back, and what looked like a knotted up hankie in his mouth. "Mmmmph!" he said, or rather tried to, when he saw me which was meant to say "Look out!" but of course, didn't mean anything to me until it was too late.

From seemingly out of nowhere, a large hand covered my mouth while another went around my waist, and a knee kicked out my legs from underneath me, so that I dropped down, like a sack to the ground. This winded me so much that I was barely able to notice what went on next as my mouth was gagged in the same way Josh's had been. My arms were also bound behind my back, with some sort of cord and my ankles were likewise tied together.

Eventually, I got myself together and looked up into the smiling face of Josh's big brother Leo.

"Well, well, well!" the teenager said, staring down at the pair of us, "What have we got here, a couple of little nudists running around with nothing on. I wonder what mum would think of that?"

Leo Andrews was fourteen that year, and well into a growth spurt that now had him a good head taller than we were, with widening shoulders, and muscles seeming to develop all over his one skinny frame, and, naturally he just loved lording this over his little brother, and his brother's best mate.

"Hasn't mum told you," he went on, while Josh and I, gave each other dismayed looks, "what happens to naked little boys who play in the woods by themselves, with no clothes on."

We said nothing because (a) we couldn't and (b) there was no point, as Leo was clearly about to tell us anyway.

"Well, they are bound to meet up with some trouble aren't they and, sure enough, you've met up with me, and I'm trouble, and your both bound, ain't you?"

Leo laughed at his own joke, his voice sounding deeper than I ever remembered it being before, even if it did croak a little from time to time when he told us we could stand up.

It took a few minutes for this to happen as without our arms to balance we had to rock ourselves back a forth a few times before we could finally get up on our bound feet.

"Seems you two little naturists are enjoying yourself," Leo remarked and sure enough both Josh and I were sporting the erections we'd had before. Our penises both poking out in front of us.

"Anyway," Leo said, pulling a bottle from his pocket, "Mum sent me out here to make sure you two had on enough sun screen, on and clearly you don't, and seeing as you're currently unable to do anything about that, I guess I'd best give you a hand.

For the next ten minutes we had to stand there, naked and bound, in front of the clothed teenager, while he rubbed sun tan lotion into our shoulders, and chests but no lower. Then he made us turn around while he could to the same to the backs of our necks and across our shoulder blades.

"Your bums sure are white," he said, "You wouldn't want them to get burnt now, would you. Bend over, the pair of you, so I can put cream on your bums."

We looked at each other, but there was really nothing we could really do about it, especially when Leo threatened to leave us tied up like that and to go home, saying he couldn't find us. That, we both knew, would bring Mrs. Andrews out looking for us, and as being seen naked by your mum – or your best friend's mum – was probably the most embarrassing thing that could happen to a twelve year old, we gave in.

Josh and I attempted to keep still while Leo applied the cream to our bums but it wasn't easy, especially when the teenager, slipped his fingers into our cracks, and even gave a little poke at our bum holes. That made me jump the first time but that wasn't the worse part as, soon our bum holes were starting to itch from the cream, and there was no way we could do anything about it, with our hands tied behind our backs.

"Okay," Leo said when he was finished and we could stand up once more, "That should stop you two from burning for the next hour or so, so off you go then. Run along!"

We looked at him, but Leo was already turning to head back to the house, leaving us there, naked and bound in the woods which is just how we remained for the next hour, until he came back for us, and let us go. But, for me anyway, that hour marked a turning point in my life, for my penis didn't go down all the time. Not even when we managed to work each other's gags out, by one kneeling down behind the other, so he could use his fingers to remove the gag. That's as far as we got though, as neither of us fancied using our teeth to open the knots on the other's wrists, given how close our hands were to our itchy bums, especially as the ropes were already covered in the sun lotion. We did undo our feet, eventually, but our hands remained bound, and it was that sense of helplessness that I was soon to realise I liked, more than anything else, in the world.

Chapter Two

A few weeks after that day in the woods, it was Mum and dad's anniversary, for which they, naturally wanted to go away for the night, only they didn't want to leave me alone. They were thinking of getting granddad to come and look after me, but in a flash of inspiration, I suggested Leo Andrews and, thankfully they agreed.

The day my parents were to leave, Leo arrived with his overnight bag and sat on the sofa with mum and dad, while they ran through the house rules with him, and for a moment I didn't think he was going to do it, but, at the end, he just nodded, and said that would be fine.

The first day went pretty much okay. Mum and dad, left, and Leo set about preparing our dinner. Well, not so much preparing it, but ordering it from the take away down the road. This we then eat and, after it was cleared away, we settled down to watch the TV and it was then that I put my plan into action.

"Leo?" I asked, hoping to sound natural, and hide my excitement. "Why did you think me and Josh liked it when you tied us up in the woods the other day?"

He shrugged, "Some people do, that's all, and from where I was it look like you two did as well. You especially, Will."

That reply throw me a little as it wasn't the one I'd been expecting, and knocked the script I'd been working on for most of the week right out of the window.

"You had an erection, didn't you, when you were tied up?" He asked, no doubt thinking my silence was due to a different sort of confusion on my part.

I blushed, but didn't really need to admit that I had, as he'd seen it for himself.

"Well, when that happens it means you're enjoying something, a lot." He looked over at me, and smiled, "And it seems that you are having fun now, too."

Looking down there was a noticeable lump in the front of the tracksuit I was wearing, where my penis was pushing up from underneath, "It does that all the time!" I told him, just like I'd I had to his little brother.

"I know!", Leo nodded, crossing his own legs, "But does it do it more when you think about being tied up?"

I shrugged, and said, "I guess," Although it was true.

"So, in that case, you must like being tied up."

"Really?"

"Indeed!"

Leo turned his attention back to the TV, and for a moment it looked like that was going to be where the conversation ended but, a few minutes later, when the show went to commercial, I finally got up the courage to ask what I wanted. "Can you tie me up again?"

"Probably."

"Now?" I asked.

Suddenly, Leo didn't look so keen. "I don't know."

"There's some rope in the garage." I pointed out, "and I won't tell anyone, not even Josh, promise."

He looked at me for a few moments before asking, "Are you sure, you want to do this?"

"Yes, please!" I begged using the same big eyes approached that always worked on mum when I wanted to get my way.

"Okay," he eventually said, "but this time I'm going to tie you up properly, so no complaining, if you don't like it, right."

"Sure!" I replied.

"Right then, you go up to your room and stay there, while I get everything ready. I'll call you when I'm ready."

I didn't wait for a second. The moment Leo stopped talking I was gone at a full run, although as, he'd only said I had to wait in my room, I left the door open so I was able to not only listen for his call, but could also listen to everything he did, in the meantime.

It took some fifteen minutes before Leo called me back down, and in that time he'd not only collected the rope from the garage that I'd told him about but he'd also found some smaller cord, in one of mum's kitchen drawers, plus a small rubber ball, a roll of sticky tape, a bottle of oil, and strangest of all, mum's long reach fly swat. The one with the floppy plastic head, attached to the long, thin bendy, metal shaft, that ended with the shaped wooden handle, that mum kept hanging beside the cooker. All of these were arranged around the living room rug, where the coffee table usually stood, but upon which I was soon to be tied up.

"Take your clothes off!" were the first words he said to me.

"Why?" I replied, as despite having dreamt about being tied up naked, I hadn't actually thought it would happen again.

"You want it to be like in the woods, don't you, and you were naked then, so you have to be naked now, so strip off."

It seemed logical, put like that, especially when Leo added that, if I was naked then it would be easier to tell if I was enjoying myself or not, so I took off my clothes and left them on the settee.

"Seems you're having fun already," Leo remarked, as my penis sprung up from beneath my underpants, to slap into my belly the moment it was free.

It was strangely more embarrassing being naked in front of the teenager in my own home than it had been out in the woods, so it was with some relief that Leo then told me to turn around, and put my arms behind my back, so he could start tying me up.

He began with my wrists, telling me to put my hands together, so that the palms faced each other, at which point he started to wrap the rope around my wrists. He took his time, making a nice tight noose, which could be passed over my hands and down to my wrists. This was then tightened by looping the cord not only around both wrists but around each one individually, and crossing between the two into it had formed into a near perfect set of manacles, only made of rope rather than steel, although to me, they may have well have been steel.

Next he did the same thing all over again, only without the loop, to my arms just above my elbows, which pulled my arms right the way around behind my back and in such a way that I soon found I couldn't bend my arms anymore.

My arms were now not going anywhere so Leo turned his attention to my legs, which he fastened together in the same way only this time he started with my thighs, binding them together every bit as tightly as he had my arms. Then he told me to lay down on the rug.

This proved to be even more difficult than it had been to stand up in the woods. My arms were no of no use at all, and with my thighs tightly bound I couldn't really bend my legs either so in the end Leo had to help me down. Holding me around the waist and chest, so I could first kneel down and then, he lowered my upper body down, onto the thankfully soft carpet.

"Raise your feet up!" I was instructed and complied, bending my knees as much as I could so my feet came up as near virtual as I could get them.

At this point Leo picked up the thin cord, and after cutting off a length, he pushed my feet together, and started to wrap it around my big toes. Both of them, binding them, and therefore my feet, tightly together, which was something that I'd have never have thought of in a million years but still, it was very, very effective. Not that that was the only way my feet were restrained, of course.

Rope was soon being wound around my ankles and, with some difficulty, between my feet and shins, so that, my legs could be firmly bound at the ankle too. Only this time, Leo didn't tie off the end of the rope, as he had done in all the other places he'd tied me up. Instead he just tied up one end but left the other running long, so that there was a good six or eight inches of cord left hanging from my ankles.

"Okay, this is your last chance Will," Leo said, picking up something from the coffee table, "Once I've done this next bit there's no going back, understand?"

I understood, alright, and couldn't wait.

"Okay then, open your mouth, as wide as you can!"

I did as I was told and was somewhat surprise to find the small rubber ball being pushed into my mouth and not just a little way in either, but all the way until it was behind my teeth, at which point Leo let it go, and it expanded back to its normal size which, was almost exactly the same size as the inside of my mouth. This left my tongue firmly pressed to the bottom of my mouth, and effectively silenced me. Not that, Leo was satisfied with that, as the next sound I heard was that of tape being ripped and, just as I suspected, my mouth was then taped over. This probably would have been enough to silence me on my own, but combined with the ball, as well, I knew I wasn't going to be saying anything for some time to come.

"Right then Will, now you are my prisoner and I can do anything I want to you, right, including this?"

I turned my head to one side, and looked up at the teenager standing over me holding the fly swot in his hands. Mind you, this wasn't the first thing that I noticed. Instead as my eyes travelled up Leo's body, for the first time I realised that I wasn't the only one enjoying what was happening to me. My penis, was every bit as hard as it had ever been, pressing now, into the rub, but, so was Leo's. The lump in the front of his trousers, all the more obvious from the angle I was looking at it, and impressive too.

"Hey, look at me." Leo snapped, when he noticed my attention was elsewhere, but it wasn't his words that got me to look at him, but what he did next.

SLAP!

My body jerked slightly, as the fly swot flicked from Leo wrist and landed on my buttocks with a sharp sting. That, certainly got my attention.

"That's better," Leo laughed as I looked him now in the face. "You'd best do everything I say from now on or you'll be getting more of that, understand."

I couldn't answer, of course but that, apparently wasn't good enough.

SLAP!

The fly swot came down on my other buttock with the same effect, leaving a slightly red outline of its small plastic head, on my flesh.

"Are you going to be a good boy now Will?" Leo asked, raising the swot up again.

Quickly I nodded.

"That's better." He laughed, tossing the fly swot from one hand to the other. "But just in case you forget who is in charge."

SLAP! SLAP! SLAP! SLAP! SLAP! SLAP!

The fly swot landed fast and sharply on my defenseless rear, until my bottom had been turned a light pink all over, and was smarting but not, I soon realised, really hurting all that much at all.

"Right then, now you know your place, I guess I'd better make your bum all better hadn't I?"

Peering over my shoulder as best I could I watched as Leo knelt down beside me and picked up the small bottle of oil. This he then began to dribble onto my bum just like he had with the sun tan lotion in the woods. Of course, I wasn't going to get sunburnt inside, after dark, but, it did feel kind of smoothing to have the oil on my recently spanked flesh, although I wasn't so sure, when Leo allowed it to trickle down between my buttocks, and into my crack, which he seemed to do far more often than he needed to.

"Okay, now I'm going to finish tying you up, and you'd better remember to keep still this time, or else."

I nodded for I now knew that the 'or else' would mean another spanking, and I wasn't sure that was what I wanted, even though it didn't really hurt. Still, when I looked at him Leo was still holding the fly swot although, strangely not by the handle. In fact, he wasn't really paying any attention to me at all, but instead was concentrating on covering the handle of the fly swot in the same oil that was still trickling down my crack.

"Who said you could move?" He told me, "Go on, turn back around as you were before and keep still."

This I knew was now going to be the test. It was something I'd done with Josh before. One of us would try to keep still while the other one did anything he could think off, in order to get you to move. If you moved, then you were out. That was the game, that we'd played often, when we were smaller, and had even done it naked a couple of time – well not at the start, but clothes had been removed during the game – but never tied up, off course. Still, now I knew what was coming I could be ready for it. Or so I thought, anyway.

Despite thinking I was ready for anything I still flinched at the first thing Leo did. I just hadn't expected him to touch me at the top of my bum crack, and with the handle of the fly swot.

"Keep still!" he murmured, his voice cracking slightly, as the round end of the handle started to move down, between my buttocks.

I did my best but it wasn't easy as the handle travelled up and down my crack, and especially when it moved, directly over the entrance to my bum hole. A position it was soon parked in. Not that it remained still for long, as the next thing that happened was that it started to move again. Only this time it wasn't moving along my bum, but being pushed into it.

The very end of the handle wasn't all that big but still, I couldn't help squirming, as – thanks to the oil having been rubbed into both it and my crack – slowly worked itself into my bottom. However, the handle did get quite a bit wider after that, to form the grip for an adult's hand, and that stretching my twelve year old hold did cause me to panic.

"Keep still!" Leo repeated, his spare hand pressing into the small of my back to keep me in place, while he continued to work the handle of the fly swot into my bum hole.

Thankfully, the handle wasn't all that big, or long, and once the widest part had been pushed into my bottom, the rest of it soon followed and then, much to my surprise, my bum hole was able to almost close once more, as the shaft of the fly swot was made from really thin, metal, so it didn't feel like there was anything holding my hole open, although, of course, I was well away that there was something inside me.

"Okay, hold that there, while I finish tying you up!" Leo said as if I had some option about it, although I probably would have realised, sooner or later, that I could have expelled the handle from my bum, had the teenager not then grabbed hold of my ankles and bought them up behind my thighs.

Taking the rope that was still trailing from my ankles, Leo carefully threaded it through one of the holes in the business end of the fly swot, and then, around the ropes on my wrists. This he then pulled as tight as he could, forcing my arms even further back, until my wrists and ankles were almost touching. In fact the would have touched, were it not for the fly swot that stood up proud from my bum hole between them.

"Brilliant!" explained Leo when he'd finished, "Ha-ha, you look just like a trussed up turkey, Will!"

I could only imagine what I looked like, but guessed he was probably right, but what he didn't know was that, my penis was still as every bit as hard as it had been before. More so, in fact, since the handle had been pushed into my bottom, but Leo had one more surprise up his sleeve.

"Guess it's bed time, well for me anyway." He said, "Guess you won't be waking me up wanting a glass of water any time soon, will you. Will."

Slowly, teasing me, Leo walked around and over me, while he cleared up and put away all the things he hadn't used or which were no longer needed, like the oil, the remaining rope, and my clothes. Then, he checked the windows and doors were locked like dad had told him too, and took out the blankets and pillow mum had left for him, and made up his temporary bed on the sofa.

"See you in the morning, Will." Were the final words he said before he turned the light out, and we were both plunged into darkness.

Naturally it was some time before I managed to get some sleep, if any, so I was still awake when the rhythmic sounds of flesh on flesh started to emanate from the sofa bed directly along side me. And even before the slightly muffled gasp that ended them sounded, I realised that Leo was having the one thing that I couldn't. He was masturbating.

Chapter Three

So now you know what sparked my interest in being tied up, but there was one other aspect of what would make me so interested in granddad's stories that involved my cousin Jon and takes place, for the most part at granddads, as it happens.

It was Easter of my twelfth year and, as was the tradition we kids had been sent to spend one of the two weeks holidays at granddad's. Jon was just about to turn sixteen so this would be the last time he would have to go while I, of course, had another four years of listening to the same old stories. However, unlike Jon, I was already starting to take more and more interest in them, and had taken to noting down some of them although I didn't always write them exactly as granddad told them, which, proved to be both my undoing, and my reward.

I'd been in the middle of writing one of these, expanded versions down, when Jon had come into my room to tell me that granddad wanted to see me. Given that this wasn't all that unusual – granddad was always doing that as he didn't believe in shouting around the house – so I just got up and went, not even noticing that Jon didn't follow me.

After answering several questions about what I wanted for tea, I returned to my room to find, Jon sitting at the table I'd previously left, reading over my entries and smiling. "Do you like the old man's stories about kids in shorts getting spanked then Will?" he asked, when he saw me.

Thankfully, I didn't have to answer him, as granddad now wanted to see him, so he could run an errand into town, which I knew would close the subject, at least for the next half an hour or so.

Once I was alone again, I wasn't sure what I was going to about Jon knowing just how much I had started to enjoy the tales of the past and, as happened more and more, my penis started to harden inside my trousers. It was strange, to me then, but just thinking about the old days, and boys in short trousers being spanked on the bottom, being slippered, paddled or even caned, got me hard.

Not for the first time I turned to the mirror that hung on the wardrobe door in the room I was using and tried to picture myself in the clothes granddad had worn when he was my age. He'd soon me the pictures so I knew how smart he had looked and had even tried to wear my own school uniform neat and tidy like that. In fact I even had my school uniform with me as Granddad had taken me to get a new one, for the new term, on my first day with him, and had tried it one when we'd returned home – to much scorn from Jon it has to be said. Even now I could picture myself with the crisp new shirt, neatly tucked in, and the tie long and straight down the centre. But when granddad had seen me, all he'd said was, how much better it would have looked if I'd had a pair of shorts on, with long socks pulled up to my knees. Then I would look like a 'real' schoolboy, or so granddad had said. Jon, had laughed of that, and I'd smiled to go along with my big cousin while, secretly wishing that I could try a pair of shorts on, just to see what they felt and looked like. But, of course, that would never happen. At least not yet.

Mind you, that wasn't the only thing I was thinking about, and that was the thing that had finally stopped Jon from laughing at the idea of me in short trousers. The treat from granddad to take the cane to Jon's teenaged bottom hadn't been serious but even so, he'd explained that, back in his day, when a boy turned ten, he would get the slipper and then, at thirteen he would move up to the cane. Of course, that had just started my mind off on a new way to think about things and soon I was imagining myself with my trousers and underpants pulled down, across someone's lap getting the slipper. How much would it hurt? I'd asked. And what about the cane? What was that like? And, how was it done? Granddad answered all my questions, and then some I hadn't even asked. SO much so, that I had more than enough material to write in my secret book for several days in a row.

Standing in front of the mirror and lowered my jeans and underwear to look at my bottom which, surprised me by appearing to be slightly chubbier than the rest of me. Not that I was fat, instead I was somewhat thin, but my bottom was rather rounded, and, of course as smooth as I was everywhere else. I wondered what my bum would look like once it had been spanked, or even canned. Would it be pink, or red, or have lines all over it. And would those marks disappear quickly or would they remain there for days, or even weeks afterwards, as granddad claimed, so that it was uncomfortable to sit down, especially in tight short trousers.

So deep was I in these thoughts that I not only didn't realise that Jon hadn't gone to the shops, but that he'd in fact returned to my room and was standing behind me, while I was playing with myself.

"Will! I… er…!" Jon was clearly surprised by the sight he'd walked in on, but that was nothing to what I felt.

"I was… just…. Just…. Just changing!" I finally managed, while simultaneously trying to cover my erection and pull up my trousers.

"Yeah, like I didn't know what you were doing!" Jon laughed "Seems you like the old man's stories one hell of a lot."

"No, I don't. Not really!" I said in a lie that couldn't have been more obvious.

"Really. Then what would you do if I were to spank you right now, right here?"

I was stunned: "You couldn't! Granddad would hear."

"Granddad's not here, but what do you think he would do if he knew what you were playing with yourself while he was telling his stories?"

"But I wasn't?"

"Near enough you were. And don't argue. In fact I think I'll give you a spanking just for that." Jon paused for a second, then added, "Or perhaps you'd prefer a caning?"

"No!" I blurted out, "No, I wouldn't."

"Okay, in that case, it'll be a spanking." Jon sat down on my bed and patted his legs, "Come on then, get over my lap."

I probably shouldn't have done but, at the time, it seemed like the only thing I could do if I wanted to cover up my half naked body so I did. Walking right across to him and bending over, so that my hands and feet were on the floor, while my still bare front pressed into the rough material of Jon's jeans.

"Okay then." Jon's hand rested on my bottom, "Here we go then?"

Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack!"

Jon spanked me, slow and steady, but not all that hard. True I wriggled and squirmed a bit across his lap, but there was none of the intense stinging that granddad had always mentioned.

Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack!

Every so often I found myself raising up my bottom as if to make the spanks harder. Which, worked, all too well.

SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!

Tears came to my eyes, but I never had the urge to cry out, or to really sob.

SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!

Sure it hurt, well stung more than anything else, but it wasn't so bad that I couldn't take it.

SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!

Jon, as it turned out, was doing a great job of spanking me too, working his hand around and about so that every part of my bum was going red from my waist right down to the backs of my thighs.

SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!

In fact, Jon spanked me so much that his own hand was getting so sore and it was that, more than anything else that caused him to stop.

We were both breathless by the time I was able to get back onto my feet, rub my bottom and blink away the few tears that were in my eyes. It wasn't my first spanking – Josh and Leo had seen to that – but it was my first proper one, and, it would seem Jon's too, for he had some questions about what he'd just down.

"Did that hurt Will?" he asked.

"Yes." Pulling up my trousers at long last.

"Well it sure hurt me, I know that much." Jon held up his reddened palm, "No wonder they used to use slippers and canes and stuff on older boys back in the old man's day. Maybe next time I'll use one of them on you. How about that then?"

I didn't know what to say to that. One part of me wanted to say that perhaps he should do, but on the other hand, I didn't want to make out that I was liking this stuff too much but thankfully, I didn't need to answer as just then the gong sounded from downstairs telling us that granddad was back and that we had to start helping him to make the tea.

My bum continued to sting a little bit during tea, and, whenever I could, I gave it a little rub, to try and ease the stinging, though my jeans although, given the thickness of the material it didn't really make all that much difference which is probably another reasons shorts would be an advantage for.

However, by the time we sat down to eat what we'd prepared the sting had pretty much gone from my bottom, to be replaced by a far nice, and more enjoyable, glowing sensation. Then as the meal progressed, my mind wondered away from the table more and more, and my penis remembered that I hadn't actually finished what I was doing when Jon had burst in on me, which lead to, probably the most embarrassing part of the entire day.

"Will, how can you eat with your hands in your lap?"

It was granddad who spoke, but it was Jon who laughed, and me who went bright red all over. Well all the parts of me that weren't red already, that is.

"It's okay Will," Jon whispered to me, "We'll finish off what we were doing after tea."

I squirmed in my seat wondering what my cousin was planning and hoping that it wouldn't be too bad. At least, I reasoned, Jon didn't have a cane, so that would limit what he could do to me, and if that was the case, then I could only take it like a man. Maybe, I reasoned, now that my bum was already warmed up, it would be easier to take a second spanking so soon after the first. After all, isn't that what they used to do in granddad's dad. Give a spanking, then make the naughty boy stand in the corner or something, before giving him another one. Yet, on the other hand, didn't granddad say those hurt the most. Whichever it was, I was soon going to find out.

"Hey Granddad," Jon's voice cut into my thoughts, "Will and me will do the washing up tonight why don't you go down the pub for a bit."

Granddad looked surprised – as well he might for Jon had never suggested anything like this before, but then, no doubt, it occurred to him that Jon nearly was an grown up, in the family's eyes, and, anyway, he hadn't been to the pub – his second home – for nearly a week already. So he agreed.

"So Will," Jon turned to me once we were alone in the house, "do you really get stiff when the old man tells his stories?"

I shrugged. "Sometimes. I guess."

"Well, seeing that you liked the old man's stories so much about the old days then I am going to treat you just like a boy your age would have been treated back then. Understand?"

I nodded again, trying not to blush as my penis started to harden at the thought of what was going to happen, not to mention the heat of my bum, that with my hands behind my back, I could now feel through the thinner material of my school trousers.

"Finally, if you don't do something I tell you, or granddad tells you to do, then I'll take a slipper to your bare bottom and maybe a cane too, if I can find one. Understand."

I understood okay, and couldn't wait.

Chapter Four

That was two years ago, and Jon never really carried out his threats to make me wear shorts all the time, even though, as time passed I started to wish that he would. That and, spank me again. At least not really. There were a few playful swots to my rear when we were alone but nothing more than that. However, the next time I was at Granddad's, I did wear shorts. Not shorts like in the old days, but they were shorts all the same. Just a shame Jon was no longer there to see me doing so, and I was still wearing them, nearly all the time, when I turned fourteen, although not on the day I went looking for granddad's old scout hut.

The hut had been where most of the stories granddad had told me had taken part, and as it was, he said still there, I decided to look for it, during one of my numerous wonders around StrangeOak , having taken careful note of all the clues, it still took me two days to find it, but when I did I couldn't have been happier.

It was down a long over grown path, that was covered in the sorts of brambles and nettles that made my choice of long trousers something I could only be thankful for. The hut itself was rather bigger than I'd expected and in surprisingly good condition for something that would have been empty for twenty or thirty years. Most of the windows even still had their glass intact even though the door wasn't even locked!

Inside it was as dusty as you would expect, but at least that meant I could tell from the lack of footprints on the floor, that I was clearly the first person to have been there in a long, long time. Still, just like granddad always said, the place, even though abandoned was still extremely neat and tidy.

There were three rooms in the hut, not counting several large walk in cupboards used to store the props from their plays, and most of the camping gear. The main larger room one, which was clearly the meeting area, plus one smaller one that was laid out like an office, complete with desk and high backed chair, and the last, which doubled up as both the kitchen area, and, just set back from that, the toilet and showers. Strangely, none of these rooms had a door of their own, so that, everyone and everything could be seen at all times, by anyone who was there. Meaning it was just as open and honest as granddad had always said it was.

Furniture was scattered here and there, mainly some chairs of various sorts, a couple of tables, a few of those really thin crash mats, and even some camp beds which were, no doubt used for the sleepovers that granddad had mentioned. So I did when any kid my age would have done, I had a good look around.

The kitchen area didn't give up many surprises, other than what you'd expect to find, like enamel mugs, plates, knives, forks, and other stuff used for eating and drinking. Likewise, the office had, well, office stuff in it. Loads of papers, and materials to create even more of the same. Which only left the scout equipment cupboards.

The first cupboard revealed camping gear, canvas tents, wooden poles, ropes, pegs and so on all neatly put away on shelves and racks that had clearly been built for that purpose.. The second, appeared to be some sort of clothing store, with various bits of scout uniform neatly folded up, in a variety of sizes and condition. However, it was the final cupboard that held the most surprises. This held a truly odd collection of bits and pieces that seemed to make no sense at all. For example there was a large crib in one corner that looked way too big for any sort of baby to use, a set of old village stocks, a leather vaulting horse, along with boxes, and boxes off odds and ends that I didn't have time to go through. These were, no doubt, all the things that the scout troop used in the plays and 'skits' – as granddad called them – that they used to put on, in order to show how brave scouts were in the past and all that sort of thing. Anyway, I was just about thinking about going through one of the boxes when I spotted something much more interesting hanging up behind the door.

It was a piece of leather about three inches wide, and thirty or so long. The leather strap which was just like the one granddad had said the scouts had used to test each other's toughness. Just holding it made my hands sweat and for my penis to stiffen up inside my jeans. No doubt, numerous, if not hundreds of boys had felt this strap on their backs, bottom and around their legs during the time the scout hut had been active, and, of course, I wonder what that would feel like. There was only one way to find out.

I was alone in a scout hut that no one had been to in longer than I'd been alive, so I didn't have anything to worry about as I leant over the top of the cupboard, and raised the strap into the air behind me.

WHOP!

Ow! That definitely hurt more than Jon had done and that was just from one swot. Not that that stopped me from doing it again, of course.

WHOP!

This time, not only did I manage to hit both my buttocks a good blow, but I also went rather lower than I'd intended, right down on the lower part of my bum, with enough force to have me up on my feet and jumping around, clutching my rear, trying to rub the sting out.

Clearly hitting myself with the large leather strap was something that was going to take some practise to get right but, even with just those two hits, and despite the pain they had inflicted, my penis was hard in my jeans. So I did what any 'normal' boy would do in such a situation, I undid my jeans, pushed them down, and began to wank myself silly.

However there was one thing I did that probably wasn't the same as the average boy my age and that was, all the time I was pulling on my erection, I didn't think about girls and what I could be doing to them, but, instead, I thought about the scouts that had been in the hut in years long since passed and what they did to each other. The spankings, the tying each other up, the naked romping, and so on.

One thing was sure, now that I'd found the hut, I was sure coming back again. Soon.

Chapter Five

The following day I was back at the scout hut, ready to have a really good look through that cupboard, and, what's more this time I was even looking the part. That's right I was wearing the uniform, the correct uniform mind you, of the granddad's scout troop.

The idea had come to me, just as I'd been leaving the previous day, when I realised that my modern clothing wasn't in keeping either with my surroundings, or with atmosphere I was trying to enjoy, so I'd nipped back inside, and made a quick rummage of the clothing store, and then, back at granddad's I put everything I'd found into the wash to get rid of the dusty, mothball smell that it had and then, got up really early so I could iron it before granddad saw me. Not that granddad would disapprove of my doing my own washing, as he encourages that, but I didn't really want him to see just what I was ironing, did I?

Anyway, my first plan was to put on the uniform there and then, and then go to the hut, but, I guess I just wasn't brave enough for that, just yet, as there was some chance of granddad's neighbours seeing me, and, of course all those nettles to get through. Maybe, I told myself, if I cut the nettles back to make a clearer path, then I'd wear the uniform to the scout hut instead of changing into it once I got there.

However, no sooner did I arrive at the hut than I took off my regular jeans and t-shirt and got changed. Mind you, that isn't to say all the clothes I was wearing were modern, as what I had on underneath certainly wasn't. The scout hut clothing store had been fully supplied with everything a dressed boy scout could want, including underwear and socks. Naturally, when I kitted myself out, I'd included those items, as no one could see them, I had put them on at home, so I didn't end up naked in the scout kitchen, just nearly so.

Standing there in my socks and underpants felt a little strange, but that was mainly due to the type of underpants I had on. Not the regular boxers I usually wore, but some rather tight, and very well fitting briefs, that prevented my parts from having any type of movement at all, and clung to my bum, like a second skin. The socks weren't my normal choice either, being long, and khaki, pulled all the way up to the underside of my knee, where two darker rims of sewn in elastic, kept them right in place, yet, already, on the walk to the hut, I'd sort of got used to them.

Carefully I folded up my normal clothes ready for the journey home and laid out the things I was going to wear. There were really only three items, four if you count the shoes, but they were just black plimsolls so didn't really count that much. Anyway, the first of these I put on was the short sleeve shirt. This, like the rest of the uniform, was light brown in colour, and had short sleeves, which surprised me slightly as the only scouts I'd ever seen had had long sleeves, but still that was what was in the clothing store so, clearly that's what the troop wore.

The shirt was a good fit, and came complete with a few badges already sewn in place. On the shoulder was the troop name and number, "the 1st StrangeOak scouts", while on the left breast pocket, over my heart, was the scout emblem itself. On the right breast pocket was another badge I didn't know but that was it, so I figured these were the badges a scout got for free while the rest had to be worked for although that did mean there was an awful lot of empty space on my shirt, but then I was new at all this.

The kerchief was next. Light blue in colour, it took me a few goes to get it on right, even though granddad must have shown me a million times how to do it – not sure why he'd done that at the time, but it sure came in handy now – but when I'd got it to lay itself out over my shoulders and then come over to my front, I slipped the dark, hardwood woggle into place, sliding it up the free ends until it was a couple of inches down from my chin, right where my shirt was left open, as the shirt didn't have a top button on. Then, with my top half now ready, it was time for the one thing that had always made the troop's uniform stand out in my mind, the shorts.

The shorts were the same colour as the shirt, and came complete with a dark coloured belt wide belt that matched the colour of the woggle perfectly, and the buckle had the scout emblem pressed into it. They had "size 14" written inside but as I started to slide them up my legs I started to wonder if they were actually going to fit, as they sure seemed small compared to what I was used to but, as they finally reached my waist, I discovered that, indeed, I could fasten not only the shorts but the belt as well. Of course, I made sure to tuck my shirt in first.

The shorts really lived up to their name as they were very short indeed. Much shorter than anything I'd previous worn, or in fact, had seen any other boy wear, for that matter. There can't have been more than an inch of material from the bottom of the fly, to my bare, and rather pale thighs emerged.

Suddenly I realised that it was a good idea not to wear my boxers as, even they were longer than these shorts were, which probably should mean that I should have felt uncomfortable to be dressed like that, but, truth is, I didn't feel like that at all. I actually felt like I looked, smart just like granddad had said I would, and because I looked smart, I also became conscientious about the tasks that lay ahead. So much so, that instead of rushing straight into them, I first took the time, to tidy up the kitchen, not just the things that I'd used but everything else as well, until it was cleaner than it had been in years, if not decades. Then I moved into the office.

The scout master's office was like every office I'd ever seen, only without all the gadgets that are there these days. The shelves were lined with books – all on scouting of one sort or another – while papers filled a filing cabinet to one side, and maps and charts were in another larger one on the other side. Over time, the papers from the desk had become untidy to I clean all of those up, and put what I could into neat piles, as I imagined they were originally, or at least they looked a little bit better, anyway. Only then, when both the kitchen and office were cleaned up did I move onto the things I wanted to do, as it was like granddad always said, chores before fun.

Entering the cupboard for a second time I paused to run my hand over the strap once more, and couldn't help but wondering what it would feel like if it were to land now, across the seat of the scout shorts I had on, or even around the back of my legs, like used to happen. However, on this time I didn't succumb to the idea of finding out, as my rump was still a little sore from the previous day, and instead I turned my attention to the boxes that were stacked on the shelves.

The first box was full of books. Dozens of copies of each one so they could be shared around, no doubt. "Scouting for boys" was the top titles, but as I delved a little deeper, I found some on map reading, camping, survival, knot tying, and so on. Most of them I put back although I did keep the knot tying one out, so I could read it later as it had some great pictures on how to various knots and, perhaps more surprising, a guide as to the best ways to tie someone up.

The second box also held books, but these were printed ones, but some the scouts themselves had written up, either as part of the badge quests, or as a sort of scouting diary. I flicked through most of these and only kept out the ones that had the clearest handwriting and, or which had illustrations in them.

The third box was full of scripts for the 'skits' the troop had put on, and, again, I promised myself that I'd read some of those at a later date just to see if the plays they'd performed had been quite as strange as granddad always said they were.

The next few boxes, which had been on the same shelf as the scripts one, turned out not to contain books – at last – but some of the props used in the plays, along with some of the costumes, which did seem to imply granddad hadn't been winding me up, as there was a good selection of Indian loin cloths, pirate hats, military style camouflage, and even Roman togas. But it was the final box of this set that really caught my attention, the moment it rattled as I pulled it from the shelf and laid it on the floor. Whatever was inside sounded very metallic, and almost chain-like, but it couldn't be could it?

The box was filled with props too, but props of a very special kind as far as I could see, given that they all seemed to have something to do with tying someone up, and not just with ropes either. There were ropes, of course, but there were also the things I'd heard when I'd moved the box. Chains. Thin chains, but strong ones, by the looks of it. And padlocks to go with them, in various sizes, all with the keys on attached in the sort of neat way that you'd expect from this troop. But that wasn't all. As down further in the box were several sets of the one item I'd often dreamed about owning. Handcuffs. Real, steal handcuffs, also with their keys, and not just one set but several.

Just holding the handcuffs in my hands bought back all the memories of the things Leo and Josh Andrews had done to me, not to mention the things that I'd done to myself both before, during and after, they'd done their things. And, of course, along with those memories came the wonderful sensations that I'd always felt whenever I'd been tied up by others, or more recently by myself. In fact being tied up, and spanked, was something that I thought about a lot but which, since I'd started looking for the scout hut, I hadn't done for a while. A long while, in fact, at least by my normal standards and then, here I was, with probably the best thing with which a boy could render himself helpless. Handcuffs. It was too good an opportunity to miss.

Moving the things I would need out of the cupboard, I laid them out in the middle of the main room, while I pulled over one of the thin mats that were stacked against one wall. Then sitting on that, I set to work tying myself up. Now I could have just used the cuffs but, instead, I started out just like I always had done, having practised and practised until I had got my technique perfect for holding myself hostage.

The first thing I did was use one of the ropes to tie my thighs together. This, of course, felt a little different to usual as I was wearing shorts, so I had to be a little careful that the ropes weren't too tight and left marks on my legs, as I'd nearly got found out on that score before. My knots, for this were fairly standard, and I did wonder if there would be a better way to do it in the book I'd found but, of course, there wasn't time to look into that right then, as I'd already picked up one pair of the handcuffs for my ankles.

The cuffs I'd picked for my ankles weren't like the ones I'd imagined as they had next to no chain between them, with the cuffs themselves, more or less, fitting right on to each other but as this would mean that my feet would be right up against each other too, once they were on, this was perfect. I'd already used one of the small padlocks to lock the ankle-cuffs to the handcuffs that I would soon have on but before I could do that, there was something else I wanted to do. And for this I needed a couple of belts. Thankfully there were several of those in the props box as well.

The first belt went around my chest, and arms, holding them to my sides while the second one did the same, only lower down, around my ribs, level with just above my elbows, so that my arms would be totally held to my sides. Only then did I lay down on the mat and work my arms around until I could get my hands behind my back. At the same time I pulled my feet up, bending my legs at the knees, until I could reach the handcuffs attached to my ankles. This next bit was tricky but, still easier the way I had been doing it with, preformed coils of rope. Now all I had to do was get my wrists into the handcuffs, and click them shut tight.

I was now, securely tied up. My arms and legs were both secure in their own steel cuffs, and those cuffs were fastened together to create a near perfect hog tie, with my hands and feet all bunched together behind me, helplessly.

Resting for a few seconds to get used to the feeling of the steel around my limbs, I was soon struggling just to see what would happen and the answer, as it turned out, was nothing. I was totally helpless and unable to get out of the bondage I'd put myself in, and not for the first time either.

Chapter Six

The most memorable time I'd tied myself up, before that day in the scout hut, came back when I was twelve or so, and, with my parents out, I finally got to do something I'd been thinking about for a while with the new U shaped bike lock that my dad had got me for my bike, so it wouldn't get nicked at school.

I don't actually remember where this idea came from, although ever since Leo Andrews had hog tied me that time, I'd been thinking of various ways in which a boy – in other words me – could be tied up, and this was the latest one. The idea being that I could put the U part of the bike lock around my neck and then lock it though the back of one of our garden chairs. So once everyone was out of the way, I went down to the garage where both my bike and the chairs were stored and bought them both up to my room.

The chairs weren't anything special, being white plastic but were the only chairs we had that had a high enough back, that would reach up to my neck, and which I could get the bike lock through easily enough to lock it. This I soon proved to be the case as sitting down on the hard plastic it was actually rather easy to open up the locking arm of the bike lock, and then slip it over my neck, and between the bars of the chair back, and then spin the arm around again, so that it would snap into place, fixing me there.

Of course with only my neck held in place, my arms and legs could still move around, so it wasn't like I was really trapped or anything but, still it felt rather good to be held like that, sort of like I was being punished for something by being kept in my room. The only problem was, that, as I had to have the keys within easy reach – for obvious reasons – the feeling of being really trapped wasn't quite the same as when Leo had tied me up but I couldn't do anything about that. Or so I thought anyway.

After a few times of doing the thing with the bike lock and the garden chair, I happened to be watching one of those old spy movies where the hero was trapped in his own handcuffs, by the villain who'd put the key into the freezer. This prevented the hero from following him until the keys had defrosted and he could free himself. Naturally this gave me the idea.

The first time I tried it, I wasn't actually tied up, but after having submerged the key in a small cup of water that I'd then hidden at the back of the freezer over night, I set the started my stop watch, to see just how long it would take for the ice to melt enough for me to be able to get the key. The answer, it turned out, was a little short of three hours, which was perfect, especially as my parents were never out for less that four hours at a time. This was, made even more important by the two things I'd added to my chair idea since I'd first started trying it. The first of these was to fix my ankles to the legs of the chair, which I'd have ideally done with chains and locks but, as it turned out rope was fine, especially as once I had the bike lock on my neck there was no way I could bend down to untie myself, even if my hands were free. And, in order to keep the idea going that I was being punished for something by being tied up, I'd place the chair in front of my desk and do my homework. Oh, and as I liked to pretend that all my clothes had been confiscated, I'd tie myself up naked.

So that was what I started to do, whenever my parents went out. In fact I was doing it so often that I had to work out a way that I could always have one of the two keys for the bike lock in the freezer at all times, so I would always be ready. I even had the entire thing down to a perfect routine, and was confident that nothing could ever go wrong, which of course, it soon did.

Wearing only my underpants, I carried the garden chair up to my room with the bike lock, unlocked, already hanging from my neck, and a little cup of ice balancing on the seat of the chair along with two lengths of rope, when there was a knock at the front door. Caught half way up and half way down, there was nowhere I could go, for if I went down then I would end up directly behind the glass front door, and if I went up, then I would also cross over the vision of whoever was knocking. So I just stood there, leaning back against the wall, and hoped whoever it was would go away which, eventually they did, but not before they'd made one more attempt to knock.

Relieved by that near miss, and yet also excited by it, I finally made it up to my room, and put the chair facing the desk as usual and placed the ice block to one side of my waiting homework. Then, taking off my underpants, I sat on the cold plastic chair, and bent over to start tying my ankles up. Wrapping the rope twice around both my ankle and the chair leg, before tying it off, between the two, so that I couldn't move my legs. Finally I picked up the bike lock, and after checking I'd still be able to reach to keys I slipped it around my neck and through the back of the chair where I locked it into place. Thus, locked into the 'punishment' position, I started my homework.

Sitting naked and trapped in the garden chair, I worked slowly on my schoolwork – after all there was no real rush as I wasn't going anywhere for three hours anyway – and was just about to start work on my final assessment, when I heard the front door open, down below.

Quickly I looked, first to the clock and then to the ice both of which told me that I still had a good hour before I could free myself, and that my parents shouldn't have been home for another hour after that. Of course, my folks could have returned early, but if that was the case then why hadn't Mum shouted up to me, like she normally did. On the other hand it couldn't be burglars as they'd clearly used a key to get in. So who was it? I was soon to find out.

For a few minutes I listen to the person – I was sure it was one person – walking around downstairs, before they eventually started to walk up the stairs, and into my room. Quickly I snatched my homework from the desk and used it to cover my privates just as Leo Andrews walked in.

"What are you doing here?" I asked, as if nothing was wrong. "And how did you get in?"

For a moment he said nothing just looked up and down at me, no doubt taking in everything that I'd done to my self, "I used dad's key didn't I,"

"So what do you want?" I pushed on.

"Dad just wondered if you wanted to go to the game with me and him, at the weekend as Josh can't go cos he's been grounded, and as you didn't answer the door I was going to leave you a note but now I guess I don't need to." He smiled.

"No you don't so you can go now." I said hopefully.

"Yeah sure," Leo took a step to the door, but turned back to me just before he went through, "By the way, what are you doing?"

"Nothing!"

"Sure don't look like nothing from here. You being punished or something."

I smiled that he thought that, but quickly shook my head, well as much as I could given the lock around my neck.

"So what you doing then? And what's with the ice?"

"That's got the keys inside it." I said, before I realised it.

"The keys. In there." He picked up the cup and looked at the keys still encased in the by now see through mixture of ice and water. "Why?"

There was nothing else for it, so I explained. "It's how I escape. The keys are frozen in the ice so that I can't get free until it melts, that way I have to sit here and do my homework and can't get up and do anything else until its done."

"And you do this all the time, I guess?"

"Sometimes!" I admitted.

"And how close are you to finishing your homework then?"

"Nearly, I've got about ten minutes to do?"

"And how long until the ice melts?"

"An hour, or so!"

For a moment Leo didn't say or do anything and a heavy silence fell over the room, but, eventually, he nodded and said that, as I only had a little bit of homework left to do, he'd go downstairs and watch some TV while I finished up, and then he'd come back up and see me. Well, this sounded like the perfect solution to me so I agreed at once, although it wasn't until Leo had actually left my bedroom that I noticed that he'd taken the cup with the keys in it, with him.

Leo kept his word and returned half an hour later, by which time I'd finished my homework and was waiting for him. (Like I had any choice about that!) Leo now carried a strange collection of items that he'd clearly found downstairs and most of them could on have one use. On me.

"Seeing as you like being tied up." He said, before I could speak, "I thought I'd give you a hand."

"But I've done my homework, I should be letting myself go about now." I protested.

"Yeah, but then you'd only tied yourself up as you were pretending to be punished for something, now you are going to be tied up to be punished for tying yourself up, get it."

For a moment I couldn't talk, until the obvious complaint came to my mind, "What about my parents?"

"Oh we've got ages before they get back, and you'll have fun, trust me."

"But…"

Leo cut me off, "You enjoyed it last time I tied you up didn't you, or else you wouldn't still be doing it to yourself, would you?"

I had no answer to that as, for once, Leo was right on the money. So I had to let it go and he took that as the go ahead, which I guess is what it was.

Taking a bunch of strips of cloth from his bag of bits and pieces, Leo told me to put my arms on the arms of the chair where, not surprisingly he tied them in place, by wrapping the cloth around my wrists and the end of the arm, and then knotting it tightly as far from my fingers as he could. Then, when that was done, it took a second strip of cloth and again tied my arms to the arm of the chair, only this time he did it back by my elbows so that my entire forearms were stuck fast.

Moving onto my legs, Leo didn't have that much to do, as I'd already tied my own ankles, of course, but he still checked, that those knots were done well before he pulled out another couple of ropes and, pulling my legs apart slightly, tied these ropes around my knees, and bound them to the brace for the arm rests.

Next Leo produced a couple of belts which he used in the standard way, only instead of just going around my waist, both belts went also, around and through the chair back, and were buckled tight, one around my waist and the other up, around my upper chest so I as really stuck to the chair now.

"How you doing?" he asked when he was done but I was looking at the clock.

"My parents will be home soon."

"Oh we've got plenty of time, and I'm nearly done. See if you can get loose."

It was something I'd been wanting to try ever since he'd started tying me up and that was to struggle against the bondage he'd put me in, so I did that and, not surprisingly, I could no nothing about it at all which is what I told Leo.

"Good, just a couple more things to do and then I'm done." He said, picking up a long strip of cloth, into the centre of which he tied a big double knot. "Open you mouth!"

"Why?" I asked, even though the reason was obvious.

"So I can gag you, of course, you didn't think you were going to get tied up without being gagged did you? What sort of punishment would that be?"

Again that made a strange sort of logical sense to me, even though it wasn't actually something that I'd thought of doing to myself. All the same, I did as I was told, opening my mouth as wide as I could so that Leo could push the knot he'd made in the cloth all the way into my mouth, and behind my teeth. Then he tied the ends off behind my head – I had to drop my head forward slightly so he could do this – and gave me a chance to test the gag which, of course fitted perfectly.

"Nearly there." He said when he was satisfied I was totally gagged, and, finally – very much to my relief – he bought out the keys to the bike look which were no longer frozen, or even in the cup, but now on a medium sized metal key ring.

"You'll be needing these I guess." He said waving them in front of me, "But where shall I leave them for you, as you won't be able to reach them if they're on the desk will you?"

I nodded that he should leave them, and then shook my head at the idea of them being out of reach. Which seemed to be the reaction he wanted.

"Oh wait," he said, "I know what I can do. You just sit there."

It wasn't like I had any choice in the matter but I sat there, tightly bound to that hard, plastic chair, while Leo stood to one side, playing with the key-ring he'd put the keys on. Then, suddenly, he made a grab for the chair, and before I realised it – not that I could have done anything to stop him – he pulled the chair out, away from the desk and into the middle of the room. As he did this I became very aware of my naked state which, strangely hadn't bothered me all that much up until that moment as, after all, Leo had seen me naked before. But now I was bothered by it, mainly because Leo was staring at me, directly between the legs, and that was rather un-nerving.

"That's what I'll do!" he said, springing open the key-ring in his hand. What he did next can't have taken more than a few seconds and yet I got to watch it all in slow motion, as on one hand his fingers spread open the key-ring, while his other hand grabbed hold of my privates at the base and held them steady, while he pushed the key-ring over my penis and down to my balls where he left it. The keys that would enable my release sitting on top of, and slightly between my balls, ever bit as out of my reach as if they were still on the table.

"Okay, that's my work here done. I'll tell dad you'll let him know about the match as you're a little tied up right now." Laughing at his own joke, Leo Andrews left me there, helplessly bound in the chair, completely naked with seemingly nothing I could do but wait for my parents to get home and free me. And if that wasn't embarrassing enough on its own, in order to free me, they'd have to get the keys from my balls, and off my erection, first.

As things turned out though, my parents ended up being late home, and by the time they arrived, not only was I free, but everything was back where it should be as, by some miracle I'd actually been able to free myself. It had taken nearly an hour, but by bending my wrists at a near impossible angle, I'd been able to untie my right hand, and then, after working the elbow knots down my forearms, the rest had been pretty easy.

So my parents never did find out that I liked to tie myself up, and, of course I kept on doing it, although from then on, I always made sure I double locked the front door first. Yet, I never did forget that wonderful feeling of being, almost, helplessly bound, which is lust what I was trying to recreate in the scout hut a couple of years later.

Chapter Seven

I was having a wonderful time, on that second occasion in the scout hut, wearing my new short trousered uniform, laying face down on the slightly smelly, crash mat, with my ankles manacled together, and my hands cuffed to them.

After the first half an hour of occasionally struggling, – not that I thought I would be able to get out, but just to savour the feeling of being chained up like that – and just went limp, satisfied that I was happy and totally unable to get free, not to mention basking in the exciting feelings that came with that.

I lay there looking around the scout hut as best I could, with only the occasional jerky movement from time to time, just to make the chains rattle a bit just to remind me, as if I needed it, of what I'd done to myself.

And so another hour or so went by during which time I finally decided, somewhat reluctantly, that I had better start getting back home again, and it was only then that my smile faded. Not because I was reluctant to be released, but because I suddenly realised that the keys weren't there.

Now I did panic, as I couldn't see them anywhere, and yet I knew I'd taken them out of the storage box when I'd removed the cuffs and chains, so they had to be around somewhere. But where?

My heart started to pound inside my scout uniform, as I looked and looked for the keys, but the hog tie I'd put myself in only hampered this more and more, which had some irony to it, as, not for the first time, suddenly finding myself far more helpless than I'd expected, caused for me to become even more excited than I had been before hand, and I'd been pretty excited then too. This last fact having caused quite a bit of my struggles due to the way my erection was trapped between my body and the mat, which wasn't anywhere near as soft as it could have been.

There was no point in struggling, I knew that already, so instead I just thought about what had happened and what was happening. I was stuck, that much was clear, but more over, it wasn't as if anyone would be likely to find me helpless like this, so that was something. Although, on the other side of that, was that, if no one found me, then just how was I going to get free.

I'd got myself into this position a few times over the years as my interest in bondage had grown so it really wasn't anything all that new, and, on each of those occasions I'd been able to free myself somehow so, despite the more obvious problems I had some hopes of being able to free myself from this one too. I just wasn't sure how yet.

My arms and legs were a little cramped from being in the hog tie for so long, but other than that I wasn't doing all that badly, but I wasn't making any progress either. At least, not until I finally saw what had happened to the keys. I had, just like I'd thought, bought them into the main room, and, again as I thought, I'd left them on the edge of the crash mat, where'd I'd be able to reach them. However, at some point during my struggling they'd come off the mat and had been knocked onto the floor. Not just onto the floor either, but somehow they'd managed to travel right the way across the floor and ended up on the far side of the room, near the wall. If they hadn't left a trail in the dust then I may have never seen them. Now all I had to do was reach them.

I began my trek by rocking myself on the mat which didn't exactly do my erection any favours but still, eventually I had enough motion going that I was able to begin to inch myself towards the edge of the mat. It was slow progress but I had to be careful not to over do it, as if I rolled all the way over I feared that I may not have been able to get myself back up again, to continue, so I took my time.

Finally, I reached the spot where the cuffs had ended up, sweating inside my uniform and with dust covering me all over, meaning I'd have to wash it all over again, but that was just a small price to pay for the freedom I was about to enjoy.

This time, I rocked myself all the way over onto my side and after a bit of scrambling around, was able to pick up the keys in my bound hands. Now all I had to do was actually get the key into the handcuffs and open them.

It took an age, during which I dropped the keys once, and nearly twice, but eventually I did manage to get the tiny key into the tiny lock and, at long last, the first cuff came off my left wrist with a seemingly very loud click, followed by a metal clutter as it fell open onto the rear of my shorts.

The second cuff followed and at long last I was able to put my legs down flat. This didn't last long as I soon had to bend them back up again, in order to undo the ankles cuffs, but still the relief at being able to stretch out was brilliant and I savoured the feeling for several minutes until I became all too aware of a warm sticky, wetness in my shorts, and I realised that at some point – or more likely at several points – I'd actually cum inside my scout shorts.

Chapter Eight

In the few days that followed I spent more and more time at the scout hut, going through the papers, books and, of course, the boxes, as I learnt as much as I could about the scout troop that had used to be based there and the more I learnt then the more I wanted to be part of it. I took to wearing the uniform every day, and in full, having now added a green beret for my head, and garters for my socks. In fact I took so much pride in my uniform, and was wearing it so much, that I soon needed to have two nearly complete sets on the go, so that I could have one on, while the other was being cleaned in the traditional way. With a tub in the scout hut, I'd scrub my uniform clean with a brush and bar of soap before hanging it up to dry on a wrack in the kitchen while I did other tasks.

Having set up a table and chairs in one corner of the hut, I worked through the task books, as if I was studying for the various badges on offer, and I passed most of them, even though I would never have the badges to actually show for it. Some were easier than others, and some were more interesting to me up to, but it was those on survival and knot tying that I spent longest over.

Sitting on that hard wooden chair, with my bare legs hanging over the edge, I practised all the knots in the book, using the ropes that were in plentiful supply. Of course, on occasion I'd try them on myself, but, didn't for the most part tie myself up all that much while I was studying, as it just didn't seem right. That isn't to say that I didn't tie myself up at all, of course, as I did, and would often wear the leg shackles and/or the handcuffs while performing other tasks, around the scout hut but, for the most part I must have looked like a regular, hard working little scout, at least on the surface. Under the uniform was often a different thing altogether as my bottom suffered each time I failed a task. Yet, even sitting on that hard chair with a sore bottom didn't stop me from continuing on, as I'd promised myself a very special reward which I finally qualified for roughly a week since I'd found the hut.

The treat I gave myself started, not at the hut but at granddad's house one morning when I knew granddad would be out really early, which meant I could leave early too, in my uniform. This would be the first time I'd actually worn the uniform all the way to the scout hut, but that wasn't the biggest part of the treat, that would be what would be happening under the uniform, and the fact that once I'd put the uniform on, I wouldn't be able to take it off, until I got to the scout hut, where I'd left the keys.

Laying in bed, I pretended to be asleep when granddad poked his head into my room, but, instead just lay there until the moment I heard him leave the house, and drive away. Then, taking no chances that he may return, I tip toed downstairs and snapped the catch on the front door so he wouldn't be able to get in, only then did I return to my room to get started.

With the front of the boxers I wore to bed, poking forward, I dropped to my knees and pulled out two bags from beneath the bed. The first of these contained my neatly folded uniform, and the other was a special box of tricks that I'd put together for this plan.

Tipping the jingling mess from the second box onto my bed, I quickly sorted it out, so I'd be able to get whichever piece I wanted, when I wanted it, and then I did the same with the uniform. Taking special care not to crease it. Then, following a quick trip to the bathroom it was time to get dressed.

Selecting one of two identical lengths of thin linked chain, I looped it around my waist, or rather just above as it was important that it was above, rather than across the tops of my hips bones so that it wouldn't slip down. This I then fastened closed, temporarily with the join in the middle of my back where it would form the centre of the entire ensemble I was going to wear beneath the uniform.

My boxers came down next and, of course as they did, my penis sprung up, but I had to ignore it, which was easier than it would seem, as I had plenty to do.

Taking up the second length of chain, I folded it into two, before reaching behind myself to attach the very central link to the waist chain I was already wearing, and which I could now lock into place with the first of the padlocks I'd bought home from the scout hut and which I couldn't open until I got back there.

The ends of the second chain hung down the backs of my legs for only a few seconds before I bought them up between my legs, in order to lock them onto the waist chain, right below my belly button. Of course, in doing that the chains had to pass down the crack of my bum, and then up to my privates, where they split in two, with one going on each side of my balls and penis, before the came together again at the waist. Thankfully, after a night in my bedroom the chains weren't as cold as they could have been, although they were far from warm all the same.

Now it was time for me to make the one part of the operation that I hadn't been able to find at the scout hut, a dildo. These, weren't mention in the scout books of course, but was something I was adding for my own reasons, as it was something I'd been doing for a while myself, ever since that day Leo Andrews had hog tied me, with the handle of a feather duster pushed a little way inside my bottom. Now I didn't need the feather duster anymore, because I could make my own, very easily as I was about to demonstrate.

Picking up a length of electrical cord I'd previously selected for this task, I folded it in half so that it was a little under six inches long, and using tape so that it would stay that size and shape. Then, I used one of a pair of thin summer socks which I wrapped around the cable as tightly as I could, in order to give it some body and, again holding that in place with bits of tape. The second sock was used in the same way, but instead of being evenly distributed, I endeavoured to keep most of it towards the top end, so that this was noticeably larder, and thicker than the other end.

With the socks held temporarily in place with normal sticky tape, I then switched to a stronger duct tape, in order to give the dildo a better texture and to make it slippy. Holding the dildo tightly in one hand I wound the tape, around it, maintaining as much pressure on the tape as I could, so the would be no slack, or air bubbles left once I was done.

Thus, both remarkably quickly and evenly I covered the socks and wire, skeleton of the object in the tape from one end to the other while maintaining the tubular shape all the way down but with one end flattened off, for the base, and the other nicely rounded into a sort of cone shape for the top end. And with that done, my latest dildo was ready to be a place where it was going to stay for quite some time.

Covering the end of my bed with an old, inside out shirt, to prevent staining, I opened up the small tube of lubricate and used nearly half of the contents to coat the dildo from top to bottom. Then, I crouched down myself, and did the same to the hole the home made sex toy was soon going to be inside, easing a glob of the gel around the entrance to my anus until I could easily slip a finger inside myself.

Once everything was as slippery as it was going to get, I got into position, straddling the corner of my bed, so that my legs were on either side, then reaching back I pulled the twin chains out of the crack of my bum, and slowly lowered myself down to where the dildo was waiting for me, standing on its flat base, on the mattress.

The rounded tip of the dildo made first contact with my left buttock, so I had to adjust my stance to make up for that, until the slippy dildo tip was slotting neatly into the also slippy gap between my buttocks. Then, with teeth slightly gritted I lowered myself further.

The tip pushed against my anus, while at the same time I pushed down with my sphincter muscles from inside, just as all these years of practice had taught me, and, as if by magic the crown of the dildo slipped into my bottom.

I paused there for a moment, hovering in mid air, until my thighs started to shake from the strain of holding myself like that, so in the end I relaxed my legs, and as I did so, I lowered myself ever-so-gently onto the dildo.

Now came the test as this was the point where the dildo got to its widest point, as the second sock took the diameter up to nearly twice what it had been at the tip, and what it would once more, be down at the base. Here too, the pressure increased on my anus, causing me to add a slight rotation movement to what I was doing, so my back entrance would open up enough to allow it entry, but it just wouldn't go, even though it wasn't the biggest thing I'd had in my bottom by a long way.

In the end I just had to go for it, as the longer I took doing this then the bigger the chance was that I might encounter someone on my walk to the scout hut, so once I was sure I was still on target, I started to stand up, only to suddenly sit right back down again. All the way.

A sharp stabbing pain shot up from my bottom, the moment my anus came across the larger dimensions on the dildo but, with the momentum already built up there was nothing to stop it from punching its way inside me, when it at once became lodged inside me.

I caught my breath again at this point to allow myself to get used to the stretched feeling I now had in my bottom. Yet the operation wasn't even completed yet. A quick check with my fingers showed me that there was still a couple of inches of sex toy poking out of my bottom, and which sitting on the bed would not do anything about, thanks to the give in the mattress. However, a pencil would soon sort this out.

Ironically a pencil had been one of the first things I'd put up my bum when I'd been smaller, but that wasn't what I wanted it for this time. Well, not really. Instead, I used it to push the dildo all the way inside by placing the pointed end of the pencil against the base of the dildo and then, putting the other end on the bed and sitting on it. That way, the pencil was able to push the dildo that last bit inside until my guiding fingers, reaching under myself, were able to feel the pulsating muscles of my anus opened up for one last time, and the dildo disappeared inside me, as if my bottom was swallowing it.

Finally I was able to stand up and allow the chains to slot back into the crack of my buttocks where, they would be able to keep the dildo in place in the unlikely event that it would try to come out again. Not that I expected it to, but it did add to the effect, especially as soon I wouldn't be able to move the chains to one side, as I just had done, not once the cable tie was in place.

The thin, but strong black cable tie, was a little fiddley to fit through the links of the twin chains, especially with my privates in the way, but after a few attempts I got it done and was able to get the cable tie tongue in place and with a hefty tug was able to tighten it around the base of both my penis and balls, which naturally not only trapped them into all the other bondage, I'd put on, but ensure the chains could no longer be removed from my buttocks to get the dildo out.

For a few seconds I took a few practise steps to make sure I would be able to walk in the get up, before I started to put on the scout uniform. Starting with the short sleeve shirt, and continuing with the socks – complete with garters of course – and the shorts, but no underwear.

The lack of underwear was, one part a practical thing, as it would stop the chains and cable ties from being pushed too hard into my skin, and rubbing as I walked – another lessoned I'd learned early on. However, it also meant that the tight underpants couldn't do their normal job of keeping my erection under control either, which was another reason I was doing this so early in the morning as even with the shorts fastened with the regulation scout belt, my erect penis made itself very noticeable pushing out against the material as it would continue to do so, thanks to the cable tie fastened around its root.

I completed my uniform with the beret, worn slightly to one side, and made a final check that most of my shirt was tucked in. Not all of it, as per usual, as I needed to keep the bit at the back un-tucked for the final thing I was going to do to myself before I head to the scout hut. But before I could use the handcuffs, there was the ball gag I wanted to use, and which I pushed into my mouth first, so that I'd be gagged.

The handcuffs were then fastened to the waist chain, under my shirt in the middle of my spine, just above the top of my shorts, with the cuffs left outside, naturally. Into these I then fed my hands, and after taking a deep breath, locked my hands into them.

Only when everything was done did I head downstairs and towards the back door where, turning my back I was able to open the snap lock with my handcuffed fingers and step out into the open, completely locked into my scout uniform, gagged, and with a six inch dildo pushed high into my bottom.

Now all I had to do was get to the scout hut, and find the keys I'd left there so I could finally free myself, preferably without anyone seeing me, and before I came in my shorts. Although while the former of those two was very likely to happen the latter wasn't as if there was one thing that could make me come, even without touching myself, it was being tied up with something stuffed up my bum as history had already proved, time and time again.

Chapter Nine

For days following the time Leo Andrews had tied my up and pushed the handle of the feather duster up my bum, I could think of little else.

At first I just thought about the tying up part, but, as time went on my twelve year old thoughts moved around to things being in my bum. That, as far as I had been told shouldn't have felt as good as it had done, if at all but it had. In fact, by the time it had been removed from between my buttocks, I had got so used to it that, when it was gone, I actually missed it. The problem was, that I didn't have access to it anymore so had to find other things.

The first thing I tried was, naturally enough my own finger. One night while I was laying in bed, playing with my erection, I used my otherwise inactive left hand to explore down between my lower cheeks. Parting my legs, and then placing my feet together so my knees pointed outwards, my left hand eased into the hairless crack, where my legs joined my bum. Beneath my balls, my forefinger soon found the target it had been in search off, and attempted to make entry.

The initial entry wasn't all that smooth, but then I'd forgotten about the lubrication Leo had used on the feather duster handle. Still I was able to get the tip of my finger and part of my first knuckle inside myself, and, once the first stretching feeling had passed, it did feel good and, with my eyes closed I could once more imagine that there was something inside my bottom, while I concluded my masturbation.

With this first experiment classed as a success it wasn't long before I was moving on, and, with the aid of lubrication, able to get my entire finger inside, before I moved onto other things, until I would go on searches of the house just for things to stick up my bum.

My bedroom, provided the pencils that kept me happy for a short while, but while these were longer than my finger they were all rather slim, and smooth, which just didn't give me the same sensations that I'd had from either my own short finger, or from the feather duster handle. So I went looking in other rooms starting with the bathroom.

The toilet brush, had a handle similar to the feather duster, so that became a favourite for a while, but, the drawback was that, for obvious reasons I couldn't keep it in my room and there was one particularly narrow escape when it being missing was noticed and I had to get it back as soon as possible. So I couldn't use that again, and ended up, one day in the kitchen and found a carrot that was the perfect size and shape.

So it was that the next day I was left alone, I quickly stripped the blankets from my bed and placed a towel over the bottom sheet – I'd already made a mess of one sheet from the lubricant I was using and didn't dare do it again – before I got the rest of the things I would need. Namely, the tub of lubricant and the carrot itself.

Soon I was naked and ready to go. Ignoring the erection I'd had since I woke up, I took up the little pot and twisted the lid free, to plunge my fingers into the welcoming coolness. Then leaning back, I raised my feet onto the mattress and spread my knees open so I would have full access to and would be able to fully coat my anus in the lubricant, all the way around, plus a short way inside too.

With a finger still inside my bottom, my other hand picked up the carrot, and poked the thinner end into the lubricant tub where I slowly rolled it around and about, so that the end would become fully coated although I tried to keep the base of it clean from the slippery stuff so that I'd be able to hold onto it.

Slowly I bought the shiny, slippery vegetable around the underside of my body, fully aware that the carrot was not only longer than my own finger, or the various handles, but rather fatter too, still I was determined that, one way or another, it was going in my bum, and that was that.

Getting the tip located over my hole proved to be my first problem, which was made even harder by the rather large amount of lubricant I'd used that caused it to slip first one way and then another before I could get it to slot into just the right spot. Then I began to push it inside me.

The first inch or so went in rather easily but then I'd had larger things than that, so it wasn't that much of a problem, but as the carrot started to increase in girth I couldn't help but gasp at the sudden sensation of fullness that was now engulfing my bottom. Yet I continued to push.

"Oh!" I groaned as another half inch or so slipped into my back passage, but then things came to a stop and, for the first time I learnt about the art of resting so that I could get used to what I'd already done, in preparation for what was about to happen.

Gripping the very bottom of the carrot between the thumb and forefinger of my right hand I accidentally made a sidewise motion, which I hadn't done before, but as this seemed to ease a little more inside, I did it again and soon I was widening the arc, until I was able to stretch my hole that little bit more. At the end of each circular rotation, I'd then, push the carrot a bit, so another part would go inside me and, inch by inch the vegetable was going inside me.

Soon though I came to a complete stop. For some reason I just couldn't get any more of the vegetable inside me and there was still a inch or maybe too, outside of my hole, and that just wouldn't do. Yet, no matter what I did, pushing, poking, twisting or turning, I just couldn't get the carrot to go any further in. I even attempted to pull it a short way out and then push it back in again but not even that helped. I had to think of something new, but first I wanted to have a look at what I'd done.

Climbing off the bed, so I could see myself in the mirror, proved to be an experience in itself, especially when I automatically sat up, and in doing so came to rest my entire weight on the carrot poking out of my bum. Mind you, even that failed to push it any more inside me.

Jumping up rather sharply from that experience, I moved over to the mirror, I stood before it, with my back turned, and bent over, so that I could look up, from between my own legs and see the reflection of my own stuffed bum hole.

From that angle I was able to study the red ring of my anal sphincter clumped and pulsing around the protruding carrot and then, suddenly, it came to me, just what Leo had done, moments before he'd pushed the feather duster handle up my bum. He'd spanked me with it. Therefore, I somehow reasoned, a spanking must make it easier to push things up your bum. Well, it made sense at the time.

SMACK!

The sound alone sent shivers through my spine, but did very little to help. Not that this stopped me doing it again.

SMACK!

As quickly as I could, I attempted to spank my own bottom, but it just wasn't working that well as my hand just didn't have the angle or the power to provide the stinging sensation that I'd got from Leo that time but then, he hadn't used his hand either. So, therefore what I needed was something to spank myself with and that something, as it happened, turned out to be right in front of me, on the floor. My own slippers.

The next time I tried to do anything I was back on my bed, with my bum up in the air and a slipped in my hand, reaching around behind myself to take a swipe at my own rear.

SWOT!

That was better, as not only was the surface of the slipper larger than my hand, but it generated a much more even strike.

SWOT!

By twisting my torso slightly, I was able to improve even on this great start and could already feel the surface of my bum starting to heat up.

SWOT! SWOT!

"Ouch!" I mumbled to myself as my bum paid the price for my overactive imagination.

SWOT! SWOT!

My bum was getting hot now, but still I wasn't really interested in the spanking as such, as that was just a means to an end and yet it was something that I knew I wasn't going to stop until that end had been reached.

SWOT! SWOT!

Every now and again I'd pause to see what was happening, both with the carrot and with my erection that, despite, or more likely because of the spanking, was getting more and more turned on.

SWOT! SWOT!

Suddenly, I climaxed. It came as a complete surprise but all the same it totally shattered me. The slipper dropped from my hand, as my seed soaked into the towel I was laying on yet it wasn't for a further few minutes before I was able to catch my breath and think about what had happened. For some reasons, I didn't think the spanking – which, as far as I was concerned was still a method of punishment – had had anything to do with it which meant that it was all down to the carrot. Even so, as I reached around behind me, to feel for the vegetable, I was surprised at just how warm my bum felt from the slippering, but that surprise soon faded when I couldn't find the carrot.

My fingers moved into the valley between my spanked buttocks but found nothing there as, at some point during the spanking, my bum had literally swallowed the carrot whole. All I could feel, by pushing my finger through the still pulsating hole, was the blunt end of the vegetable, up inside me which led to the problem of just how to get the carrot out again although it did come out, eventually.

For months I kept on trying with the carrot and probably would have stayed with small vegetables for my home entertainment had it not been for that game 'Alien Probe' that summer.

Chapter Ten

It was hot that day and I mean really hot. The sort of hot that doesn't happen all that often, but when it does it just drains everything from you until you can't be bothered to do anything.

I'd gone over to Josh's house in the hopes that he'd play with me but, it turned out he was grounded for something or other and wasn't allowed to leave the house except to do a load of chores that had been left for him to do before his parents got home. Leo was supposed to be looking after him but, he'd slipped out for some reason so it ended up just being the two of us, which would have been great if Josh had been in the mood to do anything accept wait for the washing machine alarm to go off, so he could change one load of clothes for another, and hang out the first lot.

"We could play 'cowboys and Indians'?" I suggested.

Josh just shrugged, "Nope! There's too much running around in that, and its too hot for all that stuff, plus dad's taken all my stuff away cos I'm grounded."

"Darn!" I mumbled, as that was the main reason I'd gone over there in the first place, as when we played 'Cowboys and Indians' Josh was always the cowboy as he still had a toy gun and holster, and I was the Indian. That, of course, meant that he chased me, and as we followed the movies, when he caught me, he'd tie me up. That being the bit I liked best of all, naturally. Still I wasn't done yet.

"What about 'cops and robbers'?" I offered as, again Josh was always the cop as he had the handcuffs. These were plastic, and not really able to hold anyone as if you struggled too hard they just popped open, but still, they were good enough for when Josh caught me. Then, after he'd caught me he'd interrogate me, like they did in the movies, although instead of punching me, he'd tickle me which sometimes was even worse.

"Nope, can't do that neither," he shrugged again. "Dad's got the cuffs and stuff."

"So what are we going to do?" I moaned, seeing all my ideas of anything like fin, being shot down in flames sure wasn't any fun.

"Well, we could play Aliens…." Josh suddenly suggested.

It was a new one on me, but it was better than nothing, so I asked what that was.

"It was on telly the other night. Some guy said he got snatched by aliens and they probed him to find out about humans and stuff like that."

That sound interesting enough – at least it did when you were twelve and you thought everything on TV was true – but it didn't sound much like a game so, I asked him how we could play it.

"Well," Josh said, lowering his voice to a whisper, even though there was only the two of us in the house, "if we play we've got to play it properly, or else it won't work, and seeing that you didn't see the guy on TV, you can be him, and I'll be the alien, okay."

"Okay!", I agreed, "What do I do?"

"Well the guy on TV said he was asleep when the aliens came, so that's what you got to do. Or, at least, pretend to, anyway."

We were already sitting on the floor, so it wasn't much of a big deal for me to lay down on my side, with my head on my arm, like I was asleep as Josh got into character.

"So here is the human boy!" he said, speaking in a slightly croaky voice that he did whenever he was pretending to be someone else. "I will probe him to learn his secrets, but first I must find where I can put my probe."

It sounded funny to hear him talk like that, but I managed not to giggle, although I did give a little shiver when I felt his hand touching my hair. At first just stroking it – I guess his sort of aliens didn't have any hair so didn't know what it was like – then moving it out of the way, tucking it behind my ear, which was when I got my first surprise, as his finger poked into my ear.

"That is no good!" the 'alien' said, his hand moving around to the front of my face, where one of the fingers, sought out my nostril but only dared to go in a little way.

"Ah, so this is your breathing passage!" the 'alien' noted, "Now I will find where you put your nutrients."

I didn't understand what he meant at first, but then figured out that he wanted me to open my mouth, so I did that. It not being until he had his finger on my tongue, to wonder if this was the same finger that had been up my nose, or in my ear, but by then it was too late, to do anything about it. Well, almost nothing, as what I did do was wait until he had his finger in my mouth and then I licked it. At which point Josh gave a very human sounding groan of disgust, and pulled his finger out.

"I can not probe in there, due to the defences so I must find somewhere else to probe." Josh-the-alien said, "Perhaps there is another place to probe hidden under these cloth coverings."

At this point Josh grabbed hold of the back of my shirt and pushed it all the way up my back to my neck, so he could run his fingers all over my back while he looked for somewhere else to probe. Not that he found anywhere, of course, but that didn't stop him from trying to get my shirt over my head – which I had to help him with by lifting my head up – and then down my arms.

"That is better," his alien voice said, "For now I have access to the human. Well, most of the human."

His hands grabbed the waist of my shorts, and started to pull them down as far as he could, only this time I didn't help him so he didn't really get very far at all.

"There are more earth coverings!" he then said, his hands returning to my waist so he could pull my underpants down as well. Of course, they couldn't go any further than the shorts had done, but in doing so this did expose my bum. Not that this, in itself, was such a big thing as we'd seen each other's bums loads of times but still, not quite like this.

"I shall now probe the area that was hidden from me by the earth coverings." He said, but while that should have included most of my body, all he seemed to focus on was my bum. His hands grabbing at my cheeks and squeezing them but doing little else.

Suddenly he stopped what he was doing and for a few seconds did nothing until, "I think it is time to take you back to the mother ship earth boy but you cannot be allowed to know where it is so I shall blindfold you."

This, was something right out of the 'cowboy and Indian' games, where the Indian is blindfolded so he won't be able to tell the other Indians where the cowboy's camp is. Still, I didn't mind as I quite liked it, and anyway, I knew I was perfectly safe at the Andrews' house so I allowed Josh to tie a piece of cloth around my eyes but he wasn't done yet.

"You also need to be silenced, so you do not call for help."

Again this was something I was half expecting to happen so I opened my mouth before he could ask me – or make me – and sure enough, he stuffed the knotted centre of a large hankie into it, and then tied the ends around the back of my head before he help me stand up for the trip to the mother ship.

We didn't go very far, which was just as well as it wasn't all that easy for me to walk with my trousers and underpants tangled around the tops of my legs. In fact we barely went more than a couple of yards across the bedroom before Josh announced that we were at the mother ship. But that wasn't the only thing he announced.

"You will be secured now you aboard my ship, earth boy." He told which was just what I'd been waiting to hear so I put my hands behind my back ready.

"No put your hands in front, Will!" Josh corrected me, slipping out of character.

At this stage I'd expected to hear the rattle of the plastic handcuffs, but as the rope loop passed over my wrists I remembered that Josh didn't have them at the moment, which explained why he was using the rope instead. Wrapping it around, and around my wrists and then, threading it through between them, so that the rope ended up like handcuffs.

"Now I shall remove the last of your earth cloth." He said, once he'd finished tying my hands and the next thing I knew, both my trousers and my underpants were down around my ankles, and I was being urged to lift my feet, one at a time, so he could take them right off.

I guess I should have protested at what he was doing but it was rather exciting to feel him pull my trousers down, when I was blindfolded and tied up. In fact it was a shame he didn't do it slower, so I could feel them coming down, rather than just in one big yank but, I guess, the result was the same whichever way he did. I just felt naked. More than naked in fact, due to the fact I couldn't actually see that I was naked, which sounds a bit odd, I know, but that's what I thought.

"I shall finish securing you now, earth boy, you are in my power and shall remain still." Josh told me, then, even though he'd said nothing about me being in his power before, still, given I was naked and blindfolded it wasn't as if I was going to making a run for it, was it. So I just stood there, on the spot, while he dragged something over in front of me, and placed it against my legs.

Some more rope appeared at this point and was tied around my right ankle, and what I was later work out was the front leg of one of the wooden chairs Josh had in his room. Naturally, the next thing he did was to tie my left ankle to the other front ankle of the chair, so that my legs were spread on either side of the seat.

Then, Josh took hold of my already bound hands, lifted them into the air slightly, so that they would pass over the back of the chair, before pulling them down on the far side, where he used yet more rope, to tie them to the bottom rail at the back of the chair. Naturally, this meant I had to bend over until the chair back was pressing into my chest, and arm pits, and, left me with my bum sticking out, which is when I figured out just where the 'alien' was most likely to be probing next.

"I spy another opening," Josh said, as his fingers once more pulled my buttocks apart so he could look right at my hole. "I wonder if I will be able to get my probe into this opening."

The next thing I knew was that Josh's finger was running up and down my crack, and poking at my hole. Which is the exact moment that the washing machine alarm choice to go off.

"Crap!" Josh said in his own voice. "Be right back Will."

I guess I should have been worried, given that he didn't stop for a second to untie me, but, guess what? I wasn't. I knew it wouldn't take him long to empty the washing machine and hang out the clothes, and, if he had untied me then he almost certainly wouldn't have continued from where he'd left off, which, if I remained in the same place, he probably would do. At least I hoped he would do. After all, I already knew that I wasn't going to be going anywhere, until someone untied me, as the way Josh had tied me up, meant I couldn't even get my fingers close to the knots on my wrists, let alone anywhere else. No, I was well and truly stuck.

I needn't have worried though for he was back even quicker than I could have guess. So quick in fact, that it was something of a surprise to hear the bedroom door creak open, in what seemed like only a minute or so after he left. It was actually a bit of a disappointment that he was back so soon but, I guess he thought he was doing me a favour by not leaving me tied up in his bedroom and it wasn't as if I was going to tell him anything different. Even if I had been able to.

Josh didn't talk when he came back into the room, which I took to mean that he was trying to scare me. Either that, or Aliens didn't make any sound unless they have too, but then, I wasn't all that interested in what he had to say, rather what he was doing.

Of course I couldn't see what he was doing – and probably wouldn't have been able too, even if I hadn't been blindfolded – as he was behind me, but what I couldn't mistake was the sound of a zipper being lowered and clothes being taken off. Funny thing was, I couldn't remember Josh wearing jeans, but then I hadn't been all the interested in what he'd been wearing. Still, once he'd done that, it was very obvious what he was going to be using for his probe this time. And it sure as hell wasn't going to be his finger.

He remained behind me, and I felt him moving between my legs and start to rub my bum like he had before starting off with the cheeks and then working into the centre to run his finger up and down the crack, before coming to concentrate on the hole itself. This time though, one thing was different. Instead of just poking at my hole, right off, he only rubbed for a bit and then stopped. Then I head the sound of something being opened, like a cap from a tub of some sort, and then a very cold cream was being rubbed into my hole. And I mean, into my hole. As with the help of whatever it was he was using, his finger went nearly all the way into my bum in one go. It stayed there too.

For a few minutes I had the strangest sensation of having someone's finger shoved all the way up my bum. At first it was still, but then it started to move, back and forth, and slightly around in circles. Sort of like a probe in fact only I knew this wasn't going to be the 'real' probe this time, but was only the warm up, so to speak, to get me ready for the one that would soon be coming my way.

His finger came out of me with a little 'popping' noise and then he was moving himself closer to me until, surprise, surprise I could feel yet another probe pushing at my hole. His penis.

This was something we'd never done before although, of course, being twelve we'd heard about it being done, just never had the nerve, I guess, to try it. Sure we'd seen each other naked before, and even with erections but that was about it. Unless you count the time we'd held each other's erections, just to see if they felt different from holding our own, but that was it. Well, other than the occasional grab and grope during various games. But, certainly nothing like what he was doing now. Which is probably why his penis felt so much bigger now.

It was considerable bigger than I'd expected it to be. Bigger even than the carrot I'd been using on myself which was odd as I didn't remember Josh's being that big when I'd last seen it, or held it in my hand, but then, I guessed it would feel bigger going into my bum that it had in my fingers. I mean, it would wouldn't it. Luckily though, all that work I'd done with my Mum's vegetables, meant I know just what to do to make it easier. No not, spank myself – although that did help – but rather to make like I was having a poo.

It worked. Eventually. It took a few attempts but, gradually, he worked first the crown of his penis into my bum followed by the rest of it until there was no more of it to go in and his loins were pressed right up tight against my bum. And then, after a short break for him to get his breath back, the actually probing started.

Slowly he pulled his penis back out of my bum again, until only the crown was inside, then he let it slip all the way back in again, all at once which thankfully got easier the more often he did it. And he did it a lot.

For what seemed like ages he worked his penis in and out of my hole until I was well and truly probed. Not only that but I was soon aware that my penis was as hard as the one in my bum, which it hadn't been to start with. Well, it had been when I'd been tied up – surprised Josh hadn't mentioned that in fact – but when he'd started probing me, it had gone all floppy again, but now it was hard again. So hard, in fact, that it was stuck up against my tummy and throbbing, just like the one in my bum.

Suddenly, he started speeding up, with his probing, and before I knew what was going on, I felt him sort of start to shake all over, and then, after he was still for a bit, he pulled himself out of my bum.

At this point I thought he would untie me, but he didn't. Instead I got to listen as he put his clothes back on, and the door creaked again as he left.

Now what was I going to do. Tied up, bent over the chair, gagged and blindfolded, with my bum up in the air and, from what it felt like, spread right the way open for everyone to see. But there was nothing I could do but wait for Josh to come back. Which he did some time later.

"Crap, sorry Will," he said when he creaked open the door, "I didn't think I'd be this long but Leo came back while I was in the garden hanging the clothes up and locked me out and didn't let me back in 'till just now."

Frantically, Josh started to untie me and with good reason by the sound of it. "You'd best get out of here before Leo finds you're over, or else they'll be hell to pay."

I didn't say anything, even when the blindfold was finally taken off, but the empty throbbing in my bum hole, sort of told me that Leo already knew I was there. After all, I was sure I'd felt some hair rubbing on my bum when I was being probed, and I knew for a fact that, like me, Josh didn't have any hair anywhere on his body other than his head.

Chapter Eleven

Leo Andrews was the first boy to fuck me up the bum, but that was the only time he ever did it, and not only did we never get the chance to do it again, but he never mentioned it again. And, by the end of the summer he, Josh and the rest of the family were gone leaving me with no one to play any sort of game with, let alone 'that' sort of game. So you can see why I wasn't in the best of moods for what remained of that summer, and why my parents wanted to send me to granddad's only it was too late so I was stuck at home with nothing to do, which is how come I ended up developing the first of what was to become a very long line of home made dildos.

I wasn't doing anything particularly sexy when I got the idea of how to make the perfect dildo. All I was doing was helping dad clear up some of his mess from re-wiring a plug but that's what gave me the idea. Not the plug, but the wire.

It was quite a thick bit of cable that become damaged so dad had cut off. Around twelve inches in length I had to fold it in half in order to get it into the bag I was using for rubbish and that's when I noticed that, folded like that, it look a bit like a penis. Not like a real penis of course, but with the bent over end curled over, and the rest raising up from my fist, it was something like an erection, or the skeleton of one.

Anyway, the next day, I waited until I was on my own and then I got out that bit of wire again to see if I could make it look more like a penis.

I started by taping the cut ends together so it would stay in shape. Then, I worked out a way to give it a little more body, which I did with the help of some bits of cloth that dad had laying around in his workshop.

Pushing the end of the first cloth between the wires, down near where the tape held them together, I was able to trap it enough so that I could wrap the rest around and around the skeleton, all the way up so as to build up the circumference to not only something like I was used to from the carrot, but to what I had experienced during the 'Alien Probe' game. However, I kept more to the shape of a carrot than a real penis, with a narrow head, as I still thought that would be easier to get in.

Carefully I measured the object to make sure it didn't get too big. But no matter how tightly I wrapped the cloth, it just didn't feel right as it was way too soft and spongy now, not hard but bendy, like it had been when it was just the cable on its own. So I needed something to fix that, and as luck would have it the answer was right in front of me.

Duct tape. It was perfect that first time just as it would be every time after that. It took a bit of time to get it as tight around the thing I was making as I wanted, but in the end it was worth it for when it was done it looked even better than I could have imagined. Okay, so it was the wrong colour, but let's face it, that hardly matters does it. The tape, with the rags beneath gave it the hard yet still sponge like texture, that I was after while the cable that ran through the core of the entire thing, provided it with the strength and stability that it would need for where it was going. And going sooner rather than later.

I hadn't really been planning to use it there and then, but now that I'd made it, I didn't think I'd be able to wait until the night time, like I had thought, so instead, I made a quick trip around to ensure I was locked in safely, and then, I stripped off all my clothes, right there in Dad's little workshop in the corner of the garage.

Naturally, with the knowledge of what was going to happen, my penis flicked about, already rock hard, as I folded my clothes on the bench right beside the pot of lubrication that I happened to have with me. This gel was then plastered all over the top end of the sex toy I'd made, before I lent myself over the bench a little bit and did the same to my rear. Then I picked up the toy and took aim.

Slipping the skinny tip up and down my crack made me shiver as it bought back great memories of Leo Andrews doing the same thing just before he fucked me, but that was nothing to what I felt when I finally got around to pressing the tip of the toy, into the hole itself.

I groaned as the end of the sex toy entered my bottom as there was nothing that felt anything like it. Certainly the carrot had never felt like this did. Nowhere close.

Resting on one elbow I tried to control the shivers and shakes I was experiencing as I pushed down with my internal muscles, so that I could easily accept the item I was attempting to push up my bum. And it worked too. Much easier than I ever expected.

Suddenly with a little over three quarters of the toy already inside me, I came across a problem. For some reason it just wouldn't go any further and I didn't know why. I'd never had this problem before. From what I could tell the toy wasn't even in as far as Leo Andrew's penis had gone, so I knew it could go further in. I just need some way to make it do that little extra bit.

Clamping one hand over the protrusion from my bum, I walked as best I could, to where dad kept one of his work horses, and stood astride it. Then, gently I lowered myself into a seating position, over it, until the end of my home-made dildo touched the top of the trestle shaped stand. There I rest for a couple of seconds, before I attempted to sit down.

"Hump!" I groaned through gritted, determined teeth as my body weight caused pressure to be bought against my anus.

At first tit seemed like this wasn't going to work. And then…

"Ouch!" I gave a yelp as my bum gave way and the remainder of the dildo slid all the way up my bum, in one go.

I'd done it. True, my bum hole ached a little from being stretched around the object that was now blocking it. But, despite that, the operation was clearly a success and no longer would I have to raid mum's vegetable rack, and nor would I have to hide the erection that just seeing a carrot could give me. But now, I found I had another problem.

When I raised my bum from the trestle, the toy started to slide back out of me again. Unfortunately, it seems I'd used so much lubrication on it, that I couldn't hold it in place just my bum muscles like I had always been able to do with the carrot. Yet, I didn't want to have to say sitting on the trestle all the time I was using it. No, I had to find someway to hold it in me but what?

The first thing I thought of was my underpants as, after all, holding things in place was what they were meant to do, only the boxers I was then wearing weren't really up to doing that at all so they wouldn't work. I had to try something else.

What I needed was something tighter, and close fitting to hold the dildo in, but at the same time, would still make it possible for me to get to my penis and then I remember some holiday show that had been on TV a few days earlier which had featured, a bit on Brazil, and comments had been made about what the people down there wore for swimming. Or rather what they very nearly didn't wear. As from what I'd been able to see most of them had little more than bits of string running up their bum crack. Which seemed to me, that it would do the job, albeit a very different job, for me too.

Now, dad didn't have much string in his work shop and what he did have didn't look all that strong, at least not strong enough for what I wanted to use it for. But, what he did have, was quite a lot of little bits of chain which I had been known to borrow in the past for my tie up games. So not only did I know where it was, but I also knew there were a load of little padlocks and some bolts as well, which meant I would be able to do just about anything I wanted with it.

Wrapping one length around my waist I made it into a sort of belt, with the two ends meeting up over my right hip where I fastened them closed with one of the bolts. Then I used not one, but two chains to attach to the front of this metal belt, both slightly off centre from the middle, so that the chains wouldn't run over my balls, when I got around to pulling them back between my legs, which is just what I did next.

The chains ran down, on either side of my balls and erection, before disappearing back between my legs and up, between my buttocks, where I deliberately pulled them tight into my crack of my rounded bum. The two chains then, combined together so they could be fixed back to the belt, this time right in the middle of my spine.

With the dildo now held in place by this crotch chain I started to test it. First by simply standing up from the trestle and then, when that worked and the dildo failed to slip even in the slightest, I then, tried ever more extreme movements to see if I could get it to move, and I couldn't. although I did discover that if I bent over or squatted down then the chain actually pushed the dildo that little bit further in which, in turn would cause my penis to flick itself in excitement at what was going on. And that was pretty much all it took before it was all over and I was shooting my clear pre teenager boy juice all over the floor of my dad's workshop.

Chapter Twelve

"Did I tell you about the spanking machine?" Granddad asked me, totally out of the blue one night after I'd returned from the scout hut, and we were sitting down to the evening meal together.

"Yes…" I started to say as I though I'd heard all of his stories, but then it sunk in what he'd actually said, "What's a spanking machine?"

"It was kept for the really naughty boys. The ones who a wooden ruler to the knuckles, a slap to the back of the legs or a cuff around the ear, wouldn't make any difference and who had sinned against the entire troop, by steeling, or letting the others down, something like that."

"Really?" I prompted, trying not to sound too interested.

"Indeed. In those cases the boys were offered the choice a turn on the spanking machine, or being expelled and, trust me, Will, no one wanted to be expelled from the scouts in those days, as that meant you also lost all your friends and there's nothing worse than a boy with no friends is there?"

I could sympathise with that sure enough, and I think Granddad realised what he'd said, because he pushed on with what he was talking about.

"There was a special metal stand that was bought out and laid in the centre of the scout hut floor were it could be screwed down. Then the boy would be fastened into it, so he was on all fours, and the machine was placed behind them and turned on so that the boy is locked in place."

"What was the machine like?" I asked.

"It wasn't much to look at I can tell you that much, little more than a short stand with a drive belt linking the top, where the spanking arm was, down to the bottom, where the motor was. Oh and it was wind up too."

"Wind up? You mean clock work?"

"Sure, there was no electricity back then so it got wound up by the other scouts depending on just how bad the punished boy had been. Of course, this mean that the boy being spanked by the machine never actually knew how much, or how often he was going to be spanked. That was half the punishment, I guess."

Granddad paused there, to finish serving the food, but I didn't let it drop, obviously, and kept asking the occasional question as I attempted to pick out the details of what this spanking machine looked like, and more to the point, if I could then find it, hidden amongst the various junk at the scout hut. And, by the time, that meal was over, I had a fair idea of where I was going to find it.

The following day I was back at the scout hut and, after only an hour of searching had managed to find both parts of the machine granddad had told me about, and sure enough neither of them looked like anything special which is probably why I'd not thought anything of them before.

The main spanking part of the machine was just like granddad had said being little more than a post with a wind up box at the bottom, with a handle that could be cranked, and a small wire coming out of it with a small plug on the end. At the top of the post was a shaft that came out of the side and attached to this was a selection of spanking things, like a shoe, a leather paddle and such on which could be slid along onto the rotating spanking arm. This being connected to the wind up box by a drive belt.

However it was the other part of the set up that got my attention as granddad hadn't done this justice at all and, even I had imagined it completely wrong. I'd thought it would be a bench over which the punished boy would bend, and then be strapped onto but it was nothing like that. There was no bench at all. In fact there was very little of anything other than metal bars, complete with six cuffs that went around the boy's body at various points to hold him still. It was heavy too, as I found when I dragged it out into the main part of the hut so I could imagined what a struggle it would have been for the punished boy to set it all up himself which is another thing Granddad had said.

The restraint device had a single bar running up the full length of it, and through this were two large holes had been drilled so that bolts could be pushed through it and into the floor beneath. It took me a while to locate the holes these bolts were meant to go into but, it didn't surprise me at all to find that they were right in the centre of the scout hut. There was even a third one, behind the other two for the spanking machine to be fitted into so that nothing could move, once the spanking got underway.

I spent a few minutes examining the restraint device to see how it would work and how it was made, and it was all pretty simple. The main bar, the one bolted to the floor, and cross bars welded onto each end, that stuck out about six inches on either side. To the tops of the ends of these bars was welded one of the cuffs which were in two parts and hinged so that once the boy had put his wrist or ankle in them, they could be closed. The locking mechanism didn't look like much as it only appear to be some sort of catch, with no real lock at all which didn't make much sense. But as that wasn't the only way the boy was held, I though that may have been all that was needed.

Near the bottom of the central bar, and again around a third of the way down, two more bars had been welded in place. These went directly upwards, and ended in single cuffs. Well, not really cuffs as these were bigger. Once of them – the lower one – very much bigger, and these went around the boy's next, and the larger one fastening around his waist. The waist one was taller so, that he would be forced to keep his bottom up where, no doubt it would make a perfect target for the spanking machine that was set up behind it, and which I turned my attention too next.

The controls were simple. Just a crank that could still be turned and which clearly powered the spanking arm, although just how it knew what to spank with and when, I had no idea as there was nothing else on the machine but that handle and the old fashioned twisted wire that came out the bottom and ended in a plug. A plug that looked strangely familiar and which I soon realised fitted into the socked that was set into the end of the restraining device although just what it did, I had no idea.

Standing there, looking at the machine now all but set up, I had to wonder what the boy who'd chosen this as his sentence rather than being thrown out of the scout troop must have had going through his mind. Well, like I've always thought there was only one way to find out and that was to do it, although, of course, I wasn't going to get spanked but still.

Trying to remember what Granddad had said, I remembered that the boy would have been left alone in the hut to get things ready and then would have gone into the toilet to take off his uniform – perhaps for the last time – while the machine was set by the other scouts, then he would have to walk out, naked, and restrained himself so that the punishment could begin. So that's what I did.

Stripping in the hut toilet wasn't of course anything new to me, but it did feel a little strange to be doing it under different, if imagined circumstances, yet, I did it properly. Folding up the various parts of the uniform as it came off and leaving it on the side before walking back out into the main hut, trying to imagine all the other scouts standing around watching. Of course, in those days, the boys would have seen each other naked all the time, so that would have been nothing new to them, but, being the only one naked, must have made even them feel strange.

Slowly I made my way over to the restraining device, and knelt down behind it so I could open up all the cuffs on it. Then I shuffled about until my feet until I could get the ankle cuffs in place, and closed them. They shut with a nice little click. Then I bend down, fitting my hips into the cup for my waist, and my neck into the smaller one at the other end, and clicked them both shut. Now all I had to do was get my hands into position which wasn't that easy as the position of the wrist cuffs meant that I had to wrest my elbows on the flow, and then raise my hands up slightly before I could put the backs of my wrists into the cuffs which were, but, I could only close them with my other hand. This, obviously, only worked the once as once the left cuff had clicked into place, I couldn't use that hand to fasten the right cuff.

I knew there had to be a way for a boy to do this to himself as granddad had said that was how it was done in the old days, so I just had to work out how to do it. In the end I did and it was simple too. All you had to do was put your hand in the cuff, and, use your fingers to bring the cuff down and then, whilst holding it there, wriggle your hand through until your wrist was in place, at which point you released the cuff and it would lock into place.

Finally I was in place within the restraining device, and it sure lived up to its name. I tried to move my arms and legs but found that I couldn't. Well I could move my knees and elbows a little on floor but that was all. I couldn't move the middle section of my body at all, and especially my bottom, which, of course was the point. The cuffs, all of them, weren't particularly tight but they sure did their job, very effectively and if this had been for real then there was no way I'd have been able to get loose once that last catch was in place. So I'd just be stuck there, on all fours in front of all the other scouts, naked and waiting to be spanked which was also part of the punishment, or so granddad said anyway.

Suddenly there was a little click from the machine I'd almost forgotten about behind me. Then, before I could react in anyway to that there were six more clicks from all around me from the cuffs, and the next thing I knew was that those soft little latches that had just about been able to hold them closed had completely locked and I was trapped.

"What the hell?" I cried out, but before I got to waste too much energy trying to pull my hands, feet, waist of next free, there was another click from behind me, followed by a soft hum and then.

WHAP!

Something hit my right across my seat and I didn't need to turn my head – which I actually couldn't do – to know that the machine had spanked me. And it wasn't done yet.

WHAP!

It happened again, and this time not only did my eyes widen in shock by I cried out slightly as well.

WHAP!

A third time, and not in exactly the same spot either. Each time the shoe – I later worked out that's what it was – struck me, it was in a very slightly different spot and not in a way that could be anticipated either.

WHAP!

Sometimes it struck the middle.

WHAP!

Sometimes it was slightly off to one side, or the other.

WHAP!

But wherever it hit I was soon bucking my body as much as I could in a vain attempt to get away, or at least, get it to hit a new area but, of course I couldn't.

WHAP!

By the time the hum of the drive belt slowed, I think I'd been spanked around twelve or perhaps fifteen times, although I hadn't really been counting. Once thing I was sure of was that tears were in my eyes and that the restraints still hadn't released. Worse yet the machine was making some clicking noises behind me that I was fairly sure meant that more of the same was on the way. And I wasn't wrong.

What the machine was doing was working through a cycle that I had inadvertently set on it while I'd been playing with the settings earlier. Having first primed it, by cranking the handle, I'd then set it in motion. The first of these had been to seal the restraints, which it had done, before starting with a light slippering to warm up my bum. Now it was moving onto the leather paddle.

WHACK!

The leather was old, and with less give than it would have once had, so to me it felt more like a solid bit of wood as it connected with by backside.

WHACK!

It connected right in the middle of my buttocks and seemingly managed to cover all my bottom at the same time, and it was just as relentless as the slipper had been.

WHACK!

WHACK!

My wrists and ankles were becoming sore from rubbing in the cuffs but that was nothing to compare to the hot, burning pain from my rear.

WHACK!

I'd felt nothing like it yet despite this I was soon aware of something else. That my privates were, on each spank, being pushed forward to rub against the support bar, that held my waist, and this was causing an erection.

WHACK!

Then as the paddling continued, and with the foreskin already retracted, each time I got a new blow, the sensitive head of my penis would rub across the support bar, and give me a new jolt that could only be called pleasure and which went a fair way to cancel out the pain that was coming from my rear.

Suddenly the paddling stopped and I was strangely disappointed by that, even as my bottom continued to burn. I wondered what was going to happen next but, thankfully, at this point the hum died all the way down, but the restraints holding me didn't release and for a split second I wondered what else was going to happen but, I reason I couldn't have wound the machine up all that much so there couldn't be much more. But, if it wasn't going to spank me, then what was it going to do.

It was a full five minutes, during which time I just had to kneel there and wait, before I remembered Granddad had said that the punished boy didn't get released until the meeting was over so that all the other could see his punished bottom. Which meant that, as the punishment would have been the first thing done, during a meeting, the boy would have to stay there for up to two hours. So, as I was playing the boy, that would be what I would have to do, and I wasn't looking forward to, at all. I can tell you.

By the time I was released, however, I knew I would be trying the machine again, only this time, I'd work out what everything meant first. As things turned out though, that wasn't the next time I was spanked. That happened during bob-a-job week.

Chapter Thirteen

Bob-a-job was a main part of the scouting year as it was time when the troop got to earn some money to keep them going for the rest of the time. The principle was simple. All the scouts would collect a card and go around door to door, doing any job that people had for them, and for which they would be paid a 'bob'.

I'd found the cards in the scout hut office when I'd been shifting through the things, along with the 'Job Done' sign that people could put in their windows once a scout had finished working for them, so they wouldn't be pestered by the next one to come along. The cards themselves, was to filled in by the householder with the type of job done, followed by a rating of how the scout had done. On the back, were printed the rules of bob-a-job, which were fairly simple. The scout had to be in full uniform (to prevent others from pretending to be scouts and keeping the money), the job had to be something a boy could be reasonably expected to do. And, the scout had to be polite and careful at all times. If he wasn't – the card said in small print at the bottom – then the householder was allowed to punish the scout in the usual manner.

Of course, being the scout I was pretending to be, I wanted to try this out and not just for the money either – although that would go someway to help me to purchase the supplies I found I was starting to need and which I couldn't really keep taking from granddad without his noticing. The only problem was, where could I do it. Still, as a Scout I was resourceful, so I got out a map and, after some careful questions to granddad worked out some houses around six miles away, where he didn't seem to know anyone, which would be perfect as the last thing I wanted was to bump into one of my clients, later on when I was out of character.

I got up really earlier, put on my full uniform, all neatly washed and ironed, and got out my bike – well granddad's old one – and set off for the houses.

It was hot that day, even that early in the morning, so I was sweating slightly by the time I arrived, mainly due to my having taken back tracks, and the fact granddad's bike had no gears, so I had to take the time to clean and smarten myself up before I went up to the first house. However, when I saw a bunch of bikes in the entrance, and rock music coming from one of the windows, I skipped that one – and the one next to it – as there were clearly kids my own age who would be certain to ask difficult questions.

In the end I settled on the house at the other end, which once I'd knocked was opened by an old lady, who looked me up and down suspiciously.

Clearing my throat I asked, in my nicest voice "Have you got any bob-a-jobs please!" and handed over the card for her to read.

For a moment the lady didn't say anything but, eventually she nodded and told me to come in, however, just as I was about to, she paused and told me that I'd best bring my bike in as well, rather than leave it in her garden, as there were, in her words, 'undesirables' living nearby, which I took to mean the house with all the teenagers in it.

"You look like you could do with a drink Sonny," she said, bustling me into the kitchen, where I was presented with a large plastic beaker of what could have been orange squash if only she'd actually put some squash into it.

"I have some jobs for you to do," she said, taking my card from me, and filling out nearly half of it. "How old are you sonny."

"Fourteen!" I said without thinking making her laugh.

"Fourteen indeed, ha-ha, you're just like my grandson. He's always saying he's a 'teenager' when he's only twelve." Then she turned serious, "but you shouldn't lie like that you know, not with you being a scout and all."

"I'm sorry!" I apologised.

"Well that doesn't matter sonny, it's just between us. What's you're name? It isn't on the card?"

"Will," I started to say, but quickly corrected myself, "William Brady."

"That's a nice name. I bet everyone calls you 'Billy' don't they?"

They didn't. Or rather they hadn't since I was a little kid and got to have some say in the matter, but this wasn't really the time to point that out, so I let it go.

"There," she said when she was done, "You get started on those and I'll see you later, sonny."

And so without really trying I managed to land myself a real bob-a-job and just like a real cub I did my best on all the jobs he gave me to do and was polite and tidy and all the other things teenager boys don't normally do but which are expected from good little cubs like 'Billy'.

I actually found myself whistling as I finished sorting out the last of the old lady's crockery. The job was dull and boring but I actually enjoyed it sitting there on the slightly cold kitchen lino for nearly an hour. She checked on my a few times, patting the top of my head, – well beret – and telling me I was a 'good little boy'. The problem was, I wasn't the only boy in the house. Her great grandson was also there. Something I didn't know until he showed himself, nearly an hour later.

"Who the hell are you, kid?" said a voice from behind me.

Slowly I turned and was rather shocked to see another boy standing in the kitchen doorway, dressed in jeans, with an over large checked shirt, open across a white vest, that displayed a thin gold chain. His hands thrust into his pockets, head tilted to one side to show me the full force of the scowl on his slightly freckled face, with his blond hair all spiked up at the font.

"This is Billy, Zachary!" the old woman said from somewhere near the front door, "He's doing all those jobs around the house that you didn't have time for, while I pop down to the shops. You make sure you look after him Zachary."

"It's Zac!" the boy mumbled under his breath, looking at me again before turning on his toes, to go and have a word with his relative. Eventually he returned.

"So, Billy boy, you one of them scouts then?" he asked looking me up and down once more. "And they make you wear all that weird gear do they?"

Ignoring the first, somewhat obvious question, I told him that what I had on was my uniform, and then something about how scouts had to look smart.

"Yeah, that's what my Gran said, about you being smart in that stuff, and disciplined and stuff. So is that true then?"

"Is what true?"

"What is said on this card, about how you have to do whatever the householder says and that they can punish you if you don't and all that sort of thing."

"Yes!" I nodded, "It's the rule of bob-a-job."

"Yeah, I gathered that but, I mean, like, what punishments, can the householder do to you and stuff?"

I turned back to my task as I answered. "Well, they could withhold their payment for the work and notify the scout master."

"Oh, is that all!" Zac mumbled sinking into one of the kitchen chairs, "I thought they'd be more to it than that."

"Like what?" I asked.

"Well, Gran is always going on about the old days and stuff, when boys who did stuff wrong got hit a lot so I thought since you were all done up in that old fashioned stuff, that that might have happened to you to."

"Oh!" I turned back, not quite sure to believe what I was hearing. "You mean like spanking?"

"Yeah, like that, but I guess that don't happen no more does it."

"Sometimes!" I mumbled under my breath slightly louder than I intended to.

"Really!" Zac's voice raised, "You really get spanked and stuff."

"It's in the scout rule book." I pointed out, failing to mention as I did, that the book I was going by was, like my uniform, several decades out of date.

By now Zac was all ears. "It is. Like what?"

"Well, we could get our legs slapped, told to stand in the corner, or spanked on the bum, stuff like that."

"Do you get the cane too?"

The shock must have registered on my face as I felt myself blush, "The cane? No!"

"Oh!" Zac said, before strangely he let the subject drop and asked if I could get him a drink instead.

"Sure!" I said, and got to my feet. Taking a cup from those I'd already sorted, I filled it with water from the sink and bought it over to the table where he sat. However, as I just about to put the cup down, Zac's arm nudged mine, causing a few drops of the liquid to spill out onto the table, and the cloth that covered it.

"Clumsy ain't you," Zac laughed, as I quickly found a cloth to mop up the mess, "I bet they don't like that sort of thing in the scouts do they?"

"Not really," I admitted, and got my second surprise of the day.

SMACK!

The shock masked the stinging pain, but not the red handprint that was rapidly appearing on my right thigh. A handprint that was size of a twelve year old boy.

"Hey!" I protested, rubbing the area.

"Ain't that what you said happened when you were naughty?"

"Yes but…" I started to say, but Zac interrupted me.

"And didn't you say that the householder could punish you went you did stuff wrong, and didn't you just do something wrong?"

This time I made myself heard: "But you're not the householder, your Gran is?"

"She was," Zac sat himself upright in his chair as he spoke, "But she's gone to the shops, which means I'm in charge now, don't it?"

"Oh!" was all I could say, as clearly he was right but when I looked away, to put the cloth back, he choose his moment to ensure I was fully aware of the who was in charge.

SMACK!

A second, matching handprint, this time on my left thigh. I gasped, but all Zac could say was, "Get back to work then."

"But that hurt!" I protested, holding my second sore leg.

"It's meant to, ain't it?" he teased. "Of course if you just want me to tell your scout master, then I'm sure I could get Gran to do that."

"You can't do that!" I blurted out.

Zac laughed, "No, I didn't think you'd like that idea cos, you see, I bet you're always getting into trouble ain't you, and you're always getting punished for it, ain't you."

Of course that was all true, just not in the way Zac Johnson meant it. He couldn't tell the scout master because the last scout master who'd been in charge of my scout troop was probably dead, and had been for some time. Naturally I couldn't tell him this or else risk blowing my cover, so instead just had to hang my head, as if he'd caught me out.

"Thought so!" he continued to laugh. "Come over here a minute."

Putting the cloth in the sink I walked towards him with my hands tucked behind my back, in my best Scout pose, although that turned out to be something of a mistake for, when I got close to Zac, he stuck out one of his feet, and tripped me. With my hands behind my back, I had nowhere to go but down, so was relieved when Zac himself grabbed me. However, this wasn't to help me stay upright as I first though, but to make sure I fell in the direction he had in mind which, as it turned out, was over his right knee. At the same time, his left leg – the one that tripped me – came around behind, and trapped my legs between his.

Suddenly, I found myself not only in a position I'd thought about many times before, but trapped there. When Zac grabbed my arms, and bent them up behind my own back, I was stuck, over his lap, with my very short trousered rear, stuck up in the air, as the perfect target, while my face was down staring at the kitchen floor.

"This will teach you to do what you're told." Shouted Zac a little too loudly, before he slapped me in a more traditional way, right across the rear.

THWOP!

Like the first blow to my thighs – which still stung – I was too surprised to say anything, but that soon changed as things got going.

THWOP!

"Hey!" I complained, attempting, and failing to wriggle away from the younger boy.

THWOP!

"Keep still!" I was told, but the blows didn't stop for a second.

THWOP!

By now I was not only wriggling but gasping, yet neither of those made the slightest bit of difference to what was happening and if anything Zac was getting more into what he was doing by the second.

THWOP! THWOP!

Quickly now my bottom was heating up, with the duel layers of scout shorts and underpants doing little to soften the blows that were now raining down on my bottom.

THWOP! THWOP!

I tried to best to control myself just as I had done when Jon had spanked me for the first time, just like I imagined a real scout would have done but it wasn't easy, as thing continued.

THWOP! THWOP!

Zac's blows weren't even random, like those of the spanking machine had been. He concentrated just on the two quivering bounds beneath the scout shorts, with only a switch from one buttock to the other, to alter his attack.

THWOP! THWOP!

By now I found myself inadvertently bucking my hips, and twisting from side to side, to try and avoid the unrelenting blows but all that got me was my arm jerked even further up my back until I was still once more, and the things continued.

THWOP! THWOP!

Eventually I ended up little more than slumped like a rag doll, over Zac's jean clad leg, and close to tears, with a bum that was throbbing terrible but which, as it turned out, wasn't the only sore thing in the room.

"That's enough, for now." Zac suddenly said, releasing me, "My hand hurts. Have you learned your lesson?"

"Yes!" I mumbled climbing slowly from his lap.

"Good, Go and stand in the corner for a bit."

Gingerly I got to my feet, my hands automatically going to my throbbing rear, which was something Zac soon put a stop to.

"Hands on your head." He demanded. "Unless you want some more that is?"

I didn't say anything – mainly as I didn't trust my voice – but just did as I was saying as, after all, it wasn't something that was completely foreign to me, seeing as I'd sent myself to stand in the corner after many of my self-spanking adventures, even though this was the first time that someone else had actually told me to do it. In fact the entire spanking had been a lot more fun for me than it probably should have been, as it was, one of my dreams come true. To be a naughty little scout getting punished, although never once had I thought about the person who spanked me, actually being younger than me. That seemed on, but as the tingle from my warmed up rear, spread around to the front of my shorts, that didn't seem all that important.

"So," Zac asked me a few minutes later, "Who does it feel now?"

"Sore!"

"Really! Just from those small slaps." He laughed. "It's going to feel a lot worse than that in a minute."

"Why?" I asked turning around, only to get the last shock of the night when I saw what Zac Johnson was holding. A cane. A proper school cane too, by the looks of it, complete with curved handle and everything.

At the sight of the cane, my original question was forgotten and instead, I asked another one. "Where'd you get that?"

"It's Gran's." Zac said, "She's always saying how I should get to feel what it's like so now I'm going to. On you?"

"But!" I protested, while at the same time, unable but to wonder just what it would feel like to be really caned, for real.

"You said you were always being punished, so let's see how you like the real thing, then."

"But!" I repeated, with even less conviction.

"Come on then, bend over this chair so I can give you what you deserve."

Now, of course, at this point I should have just left, or at least put up a fight. There was, after all, nothing Zac could have done to stop me as I was actually bigger than he was, and older, and, as I wasn't really a scout, there was no way he could make me stay. Hell, I was only doing the bob-a-job thing because I wanted to, not because I had to, and could stop any time I wanted to. But!

But! I didn't. What I did do, was just like a proper scout would have done. I did what I was told. I walked over to the chair Zac had sat in while he'd spanked me and bent over it. Not across the seat like the twelve year old had indicated but, instead I went around behind it, and hosting myself up onto the tips of my polished shoes, I bent myself right over the back, until my arms were resting on the seat, and my feet could barely touch the ground. This was, just how I'd seen people being caned in drawings and, even though I had no way to see just what I looked like, I knew that this position would leave my bottom very much up in the air, and the perfect target for the ultimate spanking tool that was about to be used on it.

THWACK!

The first blow came soon after I was ready and it made me yelp not only in surprise but also with the force of what felt like a red hot poker been laid right across my rear.

THWACK!

This time I was ready for it, but still the force of the blow caused me to jerk my entire torso as the cane bit into the seat of my shorts.

THWACK!

The cane landed for a third time, lower this time, yet still on my shorts, but that was little consolation, as I both gasped from the pain, and shuddered from the impact.

THWACK!

Now as the cane bit into my flanks, the gasped cry I made was suddenly wet as tears filled my eyes.

THWACK!

My body jerked, I gasped, as I struggled to contain the pain I was feeling from my, by now, highly sore rear.

Thwack!

The sound of what turned out to be the very last blow and for a very good reason. Not that I had any time to think about it, as Zac was still very much in charge, even though he was now in a total panic.

"Quick, get up." He hissed into my ear. "My Gran's come back. Hurry up."

Looking back I don't know why, but I too panicked at that moment too. I'd really done nothing wrong – well other than pretend to be an old fashioned boy scout, and get a little pocket money albeit under false pretences – but panic I did, actually helping Zac to put the kitchen back into the order it had been before he'd started to punish me, while he returned the care to wherever he had got it from.

By the time I next saw Mrs. Johnson it was like nothing had happened while she'd been gone. I was once more back sorting out her cupboards although I was no longer sitting on the floor while I was doing it, for a very good reason, which thankfully she never asked about while Zac went back to his previous sulky self totally ignoring me, from that moment until the time when I left to go home, and back to my normal life.

Chapter Fourteen

Once more I waited until granddad had gone out before I started to stir from my bed. Today was different however, as I I'd been left instructions to do a few chores, and to eat my breakfast, before I could go out to scout hut but that, fitted into my plans perfectly, as, after all a good scout, like I was trying to be, would always look after his duties before having any fun. Yet, before I did that, there were a couple of things I wanted to do in order to make me seem even more like a little scout.

It seems the scout books, back in the olden days, had an opinion on almost everything to do with a boy's life, from his social skills and discipline, right through to his health and hygiene. Some of those ideas were, it has to be said, a little odd but, the one thing they were clear on was that a boy scout should look like a boy scout both in and out of his uniform. Naturally in his uniform, he would look like what he was, but it was the out of it, that I was going to deal with now, and in, particular it's opinions on what hair a boy should have.

My own hair, up to this point, had always been shoulder length – or at least it had for as long as I'd been able to get away with it – but that, certainly wouldn't have happened back in granddad's day, as he was fond of telling me himself. So that was the first part of my plan, to take care of it.

I didn't have the money to spend in the fancy hairdressers in StrangeOak , but then neither would a boy my age have had back in the old days either. Back then, the family took care of their own hair, and so was I. In the old way, with a pudding bowl as a guide, although I was going to cheat slightly by using a set of electric hair clipped.

Slipping on a loose pair of shorts, I went down into the bathroom, where the mess would be easier to clean up, after having collected the bowl from the kitchen that best suited my head. It felt a little silly standing in front of the mirror with a bowl on my head, but once the trimmers got going it proved to be rather easy to just run them around the edge of the bowl and cut off any hair they found there. Naturally when this was done, I had a "pudding head" cut, but, slipping the guide onto the trimmers I was able to put a little grade into that, so it wouldn't look so bad.

By the time I was done with my head, my hair looked rather good, at least from the front, and a few minutes with a comb – along with the occasional extra trim, just to clean things up further – I was able to get a fairly decent impression of the sort of old fashioned hair cut, that I'd seen in the old books with my hair short on the back and sides, but still a little long on the top. Now I just had to take care of the hair elsewhere on my body.

Like I said, the books thought a boy scout should look like a boy scout, and they went so far to say that even naked a 'proper' scout should look like a boy, rather than a 'small man'. I hadn't understood this when I'd first read it, but thanks to comments in the scout's own diaries, I now knew they meant that scouts weren't allowed to have pubic or pit hair. Several of the diaries made clear reference to them shaving their pubes and, in one case, of a teenager being held down by the other scouts while they did it for him after he'd refused to do it himself. Well, I was going to be a good scout, so I was going to do my own.

Thankfully, at the age of fourteen, I didn't have all that much hair on my body, thanks to my light colouring, so the only places I had to worry about were under my arms and around the top of my willy (as the scouts called it!) I decided to start with my pits.

Lifting up my left arm, in front of the mirror, I looked at the small clump of blond hairs that nestled there, and started the trimmers up. The guard was off not, so it tickled slightly as the rapidly moving cutting heads, brushed against the sensitive skin under my arm, but, in a few seconds it was done. And, another few seconds after that, my right arm pit was also a hair free zone. Now for the serious stuff.

I'd decided that it would be easier to shave my pubes if I was sitting down in a sort of non-scout approved slouching position, so that's what I did, placing my bum right on the edge of the toilet seat, and then leaning my torso back so that, with my legs pushing out and open, my loins were totally open and exposed, ready for the chop. So to speak.

There wasn't much to do now as all the pubes I had were clustered in one group that sort of spread itself like a moustache out around the top of my willy, so they proved to be really easy to get rid off with the trimmer, although I did have to be careful to hold my willy out of the way while I was doing this, of course.

Once that was done, it was simply a matter of running the trimmer around my groin to make sure there were no stray hairs here and there, while hosting my willy and nuts (another scout word) this way and that, so I could get a clean run. Then, when I was satisfied that I'd got everything I put cleaned the trimmer out, and put it away. Only when that was done did I allow myself to look in the bath room mirror to see what the results would look like.

Disappointingly, you couldn't really tell if I had hair in my pits of not, even if I lifted my arms out, but that was how it had been before. Of course, things were a little more obvious down below, not that anyone else would know if I had pubes of not in my normal life, but now I didn't it sure made me look younger than fourteen. It's strange how much older just a small amount of hair in the correct places can do but sure enough, being bare down there, made me look no more than eleven or even younger. This despite the fact that, without pubes, my willy and nuts, actually looked slightly bigger than they had before, and certainly bigger than any ten year old should have.

I could have stayed looking at the new me in the mirror for a long time, but I had other things to do before I could get dressed and on with my chores, and then go on to play with the latest equipment I'd put together down at the scout hut. First I had to be clean both inside and out!

Reaching up above the bathroom a shiver ran through me as I first felt something rubbery, which was a small diameter tube, followed by a bag, and then a small box that I knew had the scout embalm on the top and the words "Junior Enema kit!"

I'd found the box and the other bits and pieces at the scout hut but, at the time hadn't really realised just what it was, or what it was for but, since reading the various scout books on health, I not only knew what it was, but what all the bits and pieces were for. I'd also read several accounts in the individual scout's books, about how the enemas had been used to flow water up into their bottoms, in order to clean them out and make them healthy, but, one look at the equipment, it was easy to see just what else they could have been used for.

The box containing all the valves, and, of course three sizes of rectal tubes, all of which looked remarkably like erect willies. These were labelled from 'Toddler' – apparently unused – through 'Boy' up to 'youth'. The latter two clearly having had the most use as the colour was faded on both. The box also contained one other, larger, tube, that wasn't labelled, and clearly not part of the set, but that too, had had some use, just not as much as the others.

There was an instruction leaflet still inside the box to show the efficiency of the scouting movement, which I could use to put the kit together in the form I wanted.

Turning on the taps in the sink, I waited until the hot water kicked in, and then adjusted the flow of the water until it reached the recommended temperature. Then when it was lukewarm, I held the opening of the bag under the tape, until it was full. By this time, it was surprisingly heavy, and was making something of a mess, until I re-attached the tubing.

With the bag, full and plugged, I turned it upside down, and using the hook provided, hung it from the bottom of the shower rail, over the bath where I would soon be laying.

After laying out the bits I would need, I climbed into the bath. Kneeling to start with, I picked up the largest of the nozzles, and coated it in some cream I'd purchased as obviously anything that had been used back in the scout's day would have long since gone ironically hard.

Laying down in the tub on my left side, and reaching back pressed the end of the nozzle against my anus, and gave a slight push. At once it began to slide right in until it came to the stop, at the end, right before the tubing connected to it.

The nozzle wasn't the largest thing I'd had in my bottom, but still I knew this was going to be a different experience to everything else I'd done before, so I held my breath as my fingers traced their way up the tubing to find the release clamp.

A light 'click' of the clamp opening beneath my fingers, seemed to echo around the bath as it popped open, and I gave a little gasp at the immediate rush of air that entered me, followed by the warm gush of water that then, ran against the walls of my rectum.

As the water continued to flow, I started to get the urge to go to the toilet, but I knew I couldn't, yet, I did stop the flow of the water at this point, just like the instructions had suggested so I could get used to the water settling inside me.

For a second I lay in the bath breathing heavily, at the sensations of was getting, from the enema, and the strange way it felt.

Slowly the urge to poo died away, and I flicked the clamp once more to allow more inside me, allowing it to flow on and on until the urge returned, at which point I would stop it once more so as to prevent cramps. Then, as soon as the urge had passed once more, I'd continue.

Slowly, but surely my bowels began to fill with water, and I started to notice something that had mentioned quite often in the scout's accounts of the process, that as the water filled me, my normally flat, firm teenage stomach, was starting to bulge out.

By the time the bag was near to empty, my stomach was completely bloated, and I really didn't think I could take any more. The urge to poo was now, more or less non-stop, and I was reduced to squeezing the nozzle with my anal muscles in order to keep it inserted.

For the final time, I closed the clamp and, after a short rest, worked my fingers back down the tubing, to take a grip on the nozzle which I slowly began to withdraw from my bottom until it came out with a slight 'pop'.

Slowly, carefully, I crawled my way out of the tub. Pausing only to take a short look at myself in the bathroom mirror with my new beer belly, complete with rampant erection beneath it, that stuck out from my hairless loins. Then I sat on the toilet, in something of a hurry, and cleared out everything out I'd just put inside me.

It sounded like a volcano, as the enema water gushed out of me, and landed in the toilet with a terrible sound, and not to mention a smell to go with it. All of which left me felling very empty indeed but that was something that I knew wasn't going to last for every long at all, as I'd spent the previous night making a new, butt plug.

Back in my bedroom again, I retrieved the new plug from where I'd hidden it, and once more wondered about its size. Again this wasn't the biggest thing I'd put in my bottom, but it was noticeably larger than the usual butt plugs I'd made for myself, especially if I intended to be moving around too much after I'd inserted it. But then, wasn't that the challenge?

Opening the lubricating gel, I spread a generous amount on the tip of the butt plug, making sure the rather narrow end was completely coated, before I slid my hand down, over the length of the main shaft, especially around the part where it got considerable wider. In fact, although both ends of the plug were somewhat small, the part near the middle swelled right up to something about mid way between a golf ball and a tennis ball. I couldn't even get my fingers to go all the way around this part, and had to lubricate it in two sections before it was completely covered.

Crouching down on the floor of my bedroom, I used the same hand I'd lubricated the plug with, to grease up my bottom and hole which, obviously, had been completely cleaned during the enema process, or rather the aftermath of it. Strange thing was, as I slipped not one, but two fingers into my back door I could barely feel it, thanks to the water that had totally stretched me open, which could only be a good thing, considering what was about to happen.

Picking up the plug once more, I was careful to holding it only by the base, as I put it down, underneath myself, and probed with the tip, in order to find the entrance to my anus. Breathing slowly, I timed each further insertion to my outward breath, moving the plug in and then back out a little bit, before pushing it back in again. Using this method I soon had enough of it inside me, so the wide ball part, started to press against my anus.

This was the tricky bit. And I took my time, slowly teasing my hole with the widest part. Pushing it in, until my hole started to expand around the ball, but, as soon as it started to complain, I'd allow it to slide back down onto the far more comfortable dimensions of the shaft,. Then I'd do the same thing again, only this time pushing just a fraction more and more, until it started to accept what I was feeding it.

Several minutes I teased and tickled my anus with the sex toy, until the cramp in my legs told me it was time to get on with it. Now I became more serious about what I was doing, and instead of just pushing up with the butt plug, I started a slight bouncing motion on my heals, that in the opposing rhythm.

Counting back from ten to one, I waited until I'd run out of numbers, before I went for it in one go, both pushing the butt plug as hard as I could, while simultaneously relaxing my anus and, much to my surprise, the plug went all the way in.

There was one, momentary stab of pain, as the wide part of the ball passed through my ring, but once the widest part had gone through, there was no stopping the rest from following, and my ring then got to close back down on the shaft again, only this time with the ball up inside my bottom.

When I finally stood back up again, there was nothing really to see, and certainly nothing appear out of the ordinary to look at me. I had to spread my buttock a bit just to see the short length of the butt plug that now stuff out of my bum which was now clamped down hard on it. A jiggle of the end with my fingers proving that my theory was correct. There was no way the plug was coming out of my bottom, unless someone pulled, very, very hard on it, and even then I wasn't all that sure it would come out. And so I got dressed.

The scout uniform was ready and waiting for me, in various hiding places around my room, but before I put it on, I selected my usual tight underwear which I slid up my legs. They were still somewhat smaller for me, but a good fit was important for a growing boy, or at least so it said in the scout book, which had something to say on just about everything a boy would be likely to do, or wear, or say, or anything really.

The scout shirt was under my mattress where, I'd hoped it would get something like a decent pressing – again this was something recommended in the scout books for the days before washing machines and irons – which it had. Sort of. Anyway, it was warm as I slipped my arms into the sleeves, and fastened the buttons at the front all the way up to the neck.

Glancing into the mirror made me smile, as although the shirt nearly covered the briefs, it was strange looking at myself with no trousers on, not to mention the way the briefs framed my buttocks and cupped my nuts in the front, although they did little to hide the hardened state of my willy, as that pushed out the material over my hips. Still there was no time to worry about that now.

Picking up the scout socks from my sock drawer – where else? – I pulled them on, and up to over my knees, before adding the garters, with the small green flap that hung down on the outside of my legs, before I folded the top of the socks back down again so just the green tab showed.

The shorts came next. They too where under my bed, but looked as if they'd had little pressing as I slipped them up my legs, buttoned the fly, clipped the waist closed, and then fastened the traditional scout belt closed, adjusting the buckle so it was right in the middle.

The kerchief and woggle then passed over my head, and were also lined up over the buttons of my shirt, and closed to my neck before finally, I slipped a pair of nice, polished 'church' shoes onto my feet, and the green scout beret onto my head. Now I was ready to start the day.

Heading downstairs was surprisingly comfortable, as the tightness of the briefs, and the shorts, seemed to enable the butt plug to stay in place better than I'd expected, so I could walk almost normally, if just that little bit slower, especially down the stairs themselves.

On the kitchen table was a note in granddad's neat handwriting, telling about the chores he'd left for me, the first of which was to sit down and eat the breakfast he'd left. This, he'd probably thought was the easiest of them, but as it turned out, it was a little tricky.

The breakfast cereal was on the table, in front of one of the hard, wooden chairs that granddad preferred, and which I'd normally tended to avoid, but not this time. Now I was a scout I had to do what I was told so dutifully, I pulled the chair out from under the table and sat down on it, only to jump almost right back up again.

Not only did the chair seem so much harder now I was in thin shorts but there was the none too small mater of the butt plug in my bum. The moment I'd sat down, the stubby end, protruding from my anus, had made contact with the chair, and jabbed me somewhere where I was wasn't expecting.

Of course, such behaviour would never have been allowed of a real scout, so I sat back down again, only this time I did it slowly, and carefully. Lowering my buttocks until the touched just the edge of the seat and then slowly sliding them back until I was sat down. This, turned out to be far more comfortable, at least to start with.

By the time I was nearing the end of my breakfast, the hardness of the chair, was starting to become a problem once more and not just for my bum either. The backs of my thighs, were also in contact with the surface, and they weren't anymore keen on it, than my bottom was. These two combined, lead to me doing something of a shuffle on the seat that, would have been sure to draw attention to me.

"Stop fidgeting!" Granddad would have said had he been there. In fact, he had said something like that the day after Zac Johnson had spanked me during my bob-a-job adventure. Then though my bottom had been rather sorer all over than it was now, and I was moving rather more now two.

"Keep still!" I told myself, as there was no one else there to say anything adding the obligatory "Or else!"

Or else what? I then thought! A spanking? No, I didn't want to do that just yet as my bottom would be sore enough by the end of the day, as it was. However, there were other things I could do to punish myself. And on that note, I picked up granddad's favourite wooden spoon.

SMACK!

The head of the spoon, contacted with my offending thigh, leaving behind a large round, red mark that instantly started to sting.

"Keep still or they'll be more of the same,!" I warned myself, before punishing my other leg in the same way.

SMACK!

The spoon hurt rather more than I thought it would, but then that was the point of it, and as tears sprung to the corners of my eyes, I did what any scout would have done in the same situation, I concentrated on forcing myself to sit still. Which I did. Eventually.

My legs were stinging a bit by the time I finished my breakfast, and was finally allowed to leave the table, not just from the spoon but also from the hardness of the chair itself. Still, I had to learn a lesson and that's what I'd done so I got to congratulate myself into wondering if there was a 'sitting still' badge, I could now add to my the sleeves of my shirt.

So it was in a good mood, despite sore thighs, that I completed the second task on granddad's list, cleaning up my own breakfast things before washing them, and granddad's up in the kitchen sink. Being a good scout, I then also dried them and put most of them away. However, I found out that I couldn't put the bowls away, in the top cupboard, as they went right on the top shelf, and being plugged as I was, I couldn't actually stretch up that high.

This was a problem, and problem solving was another scout thing, so I thought about it, and eventually solved it. My first idea being to stand on the chair, but, that was out of the question of the same reason, just reaching was, in that I was unable to lift my leg high enough, to get my foot onto the seat. I could, however, kneel on it, and while this didn't actually get me all that much higher than just standing up, if I put a book, or two on the seat first, then I would be able to build myself up just enough so I could get the bowls away safely.

A few more minor chores followed before I was finally ready to leave for the scout hut, but first I had to get something from the freezer that was crucial to the entire thing. My keys.

Two nights earlier I'd snuck into the kitchen – using stealth skills found in the scout books – so I could leave something in the very back of the freezer, hidden behind some steaks that I'm pretty sure were older than I was. Now it was time to get them.

The plastic cup of ice looked fairly ordinary which was just as well for in the unlikely event of if being found I was going to tell granddad that it was a rather large lolly, and for this purpose I'd added a little orange squash to the water which not only aided in the disguise but hid the true purpose of the object, even if the string trailing over the brim didn't.

The string was important as it was what I will be suspending the ice block from and was tied around the only thing that would be able to set me free at that time, a small square headed key, that opened the brace I would be locking myself into and from which I wouldn't be able to get away from, until the ice had completely melted, freeing the key.

Wrapping the ice block in a towel, to both keep it cool and ensure it wouldn't melt everywhere, I placed it in my backpack, and locking up the house set off for the scout hut.

Chapter Fifteen

I was used to moving around StrangeOak by this time in my scout uniform, so even though I did tend to keep to back roads and tracks, I no longer really worried about anyone seeing me and wondering why I was dressed the way I was, or for that matter, just why I was walking with my legs slightly apart with a that little added spring in your step that comes from having a butt plug stuffed in your bum.

However, despite the fact that I had come to love walking around in the outside in my uniform, with the air blowing around my bare legs, I couldn't take my time on that day, as I didn't want the ice block in my back pack to melt too fast, as that would lesson the time I would have in the brace I'd found. I had no idea just what the scouts had used it for, but I did know what I was going to use it for.

The brace was made of a flat, straight piece of metal about five feet long. In the centre of this a small concave shape had been struck into it, so that it would fit around the back of a boy's neck with a hinged part that would come around the front, and be locked in place with a small padlock. At each end of the metal bar were two more similar, but smaller shapes, complete with hinged fronts, for the boy's wrists to be locked into, forcing him to stand with his arms in a sort of 'surrender' pose with his wrists arms bent and his wrists level, but some distance from, his neck. This, naturally, would then leave the rest of his body totally exposed and un protected in anyway. There was even a large hook welded to the back of the neck piece so the boy could be chained to a wall, or, in the way I was going to use it, to the ceiling.

Naturally I was excited about what I was going to do, by the time I arrived at the scout hut, as was plainly visible from the front of my uniform shorts, that had the slight pre-cum stain starting to appear and for which I should be punished and which, I would be, once I had everything set up.

I'd fixed the chain I would soon be fastened too, around one of the ceiling rafters the previous day as I didn't think I'd had been able to climb up the side of the scout hut, and then shuffle along the beam, once I had the plug in my bum, but that was the only thing I'd done in preparation then. Everything else had to be done now. Starting with tying the string from the ice block to the hanging chain so that the block would swing around behind me. Then, I turned my attention to the spanking machine.

Since the first time I'd used it, I had since read through all the instruction manuals I'd been able to find so now had a much better idea of how it could be used, which is why I'd slung the chain from a rafter, right in front of the spot where the machine could be fixed to the floor. No doubt, this wasn't the first time this had been done either, as there had been marks around the rafter that looked like chains had rubbed there wood before.

Anyway, wheeling the machine into place I locked it down, so it wouldn't move, and then gave it a little wind up to make sure it still worked. Sure enough, there was soon a soft clicking noise, followed by a buzz as the motor, came to life, spinning the currently empty spindle around once, and then it went silent having completed its cycle. Then I turned it off before it could start again, so I could make modifications.

Picking up the rubber paddle I was going to use, I had to consult the instructions a couple of times, but was soon able to insert the correct rod into the handle, and then slotting the other end into the spindle where a sharp twist locked it in place.

I had three more things to do before I turned the spanking machine on, for the last time, and the first was to put the bit into my mouth. This was a new sort of gag for me, and just like the ones they use on horses, only adapted to fit a boy's head and was used when a scout had too much to say for himself. A rubber covered bar would be pressed into the mouth, as far as it would go, and then two straps that attached to both ends of the bar would be put over the boy's head. One over the top and the other around the back of his head to hold it in place, while being totally hidden by his beret.

I'd worn the bit before, when moving things around the scout hut, to try it out but this was the first time I'd actually used it in one of my scenarios. Taking off my beret I pressed the rubber bar into my mouth, pushing it back until it slotted behind the front of my teeth, so that it would hold my tongue down, This meant it stretched the sides of my lips a little but then it wasn't meant to be comfortable was it. Getting the straps tight enough so it was a snug fit was a bit of a struggle but, with practise I was soon able to master it, and I was silenced.

I had a few minutes to get used to the bit, before I was locked in such a position that I'd be unable to do anything about it, and I used that time to move the large metal mirror, I'd removed from the scout hut showers into a position where it would reflect back my own image once I was in place.

The final leg of my preparations was to get out the ankle brace and put it. This was simply a metal rod, some two feet long, that had leather cuffs attached to the end. These cuffs did up with buckles, although there was an option to add padlocks I didn't really see the point, as I wouldn't be able to get them off once I was in the brace.

With the ankle brace in place, I walked even funnier than before, but at least having my feet forcibly spread like that did take the pressure off the butt plug.

Finally, and not without some difficulty, I bent over and switched the spanking machine back on, and gave it a good winding, before picking up the neck brace.

Carefully I worked out the right height, by standing against the chain hanging down from the ceiling, and then I used a padlock to fasten the neck part of the brace to the chain before turning around, and placing the back of my own neck into the concave cut out, and closing the little gate around my throat.

It was quite a loose fit, but that didn't stop it from feeling rather containing, as I snapped the lock into the neck brace, as I wouldn't be able to get it off now, until the ice hanging behind me, melted and, as the chain was taut to between me and the ceiling, I wouldn't be able to move from that spot until that happened. Still I wasn't finished yet.

Holding up my left arm, I moved it along to the end of the brace, and into the slot that had been made for it. Unable to twist around, I couldn't use my other hand to fasten the cuff shut, so instead had to give my body a few shakes so that it would flip shut by itself which it did with a satisfying click. The process then repeated with my right arm, until that too was locked into place. And it was done.

For a second I checked everything was in place and then I looked over to the mirror to see what I looked like and was more than happy with the results. Of course you couldn't see my new hair cut because of the beret, and the uniform hid my lack of pubes but in every other way I looked just like how I wanted to. Gone was the teenager playing tie up games, and in his place was what looked like a traditional boy scout of no more than eleven or twelve, or perhaps even ten. His uniform all neat and tidy, as if he was ready for an inspection, with only the only the rather tell tale bulge in the front of his shorts, telling a different story. Well that and the bondage he was in.

The position of the mirror gave me a nice side on view of myself so I was able to see not only the twin braces that held my arms aloft, and my legs spread apart, but also the way my teeth were gripping the bit in my mouth. Added to that was the way my bare legs were stretched, taut, showing the muscle of my thighs and slightly bony knees, between the tops of my socks and the lower hem of the shorts. Thighs, that still showed a slight redness from where they'd been hit with the wooden spoon.

The light brown scout shorts themselves not only poking out in front from my excitement at what I'd done to myself, but also clinging to my rear, so much that they even showed the crack of my bum that was soon to be spanked by the so far, silent machine sitting behind me.

Then, as if on cue, there was a soft click and buzz from the machine as it came to life, followed almost instantly by a loud retort as the rubber bladed paddle was flung upwards, right into my defenseless bum.

WHACK!

I grunted from behind the bit, as the surprisingly stinging blow was delivered to my bum. Quickly followed by a second one.

WHACK!

Silence once more returned to the scout hut, as the machine wound itself down and yet I was fairly sure that I could actually hear the ache it had created in my bum, throbbing in the still afternoon air. Yet, even as my bum continued to sting, I couldn't help but smile – well the bit sort of made me smile but that's not what I meant – that once more all my plans had actually worked, and here I was plugged, gagged and securely chained up for a fair bit of time, in my short trousered uniform being punished just like scouts had been way back in the old days. Well, not exactly like they had, but in the same sort of way they had been anyway. However, like a real scout being punished I didn't know how many times I was going to be spanked, although I did have a fair idea of how long it would take the ice to melt, but not how punished I would be in the meantime.

As if reading my mind, the machine clicked and buzzed again, and sent the rubber paddle once more into the seat of my shorts.

Whack!

The blow was softer than the previous two had been, but with them having warmed my bum up, that didn't really matter, yet, at the same time it did allow me to relax slight which, turned out to be a big mistake.

THWACK!

The fourth blow landed both hard and fast, and had I not been gagged I would have cried out. As it was, all I could do was rock slightly on my spread feet, until the chain connected to the back of my neck bought me back into position ready for the next blow.

Only the next blow didn't come. Not then, and not for some time although I have no real idea just how long there was between the blows, as I wasn't wearing a watch and, even if I had been I wouldn't have been able to see it with the way my arms were held. The scout hut, didn't have a clock either, so I was just left there, standing waiting, wondering when the motor would kick back in again. The only thing I could be certain of was that it would come back on, sooner rather than later. I just didn't know when.

Whack!

It was, when it came, another of the softer blows, but the instant it landed I tensed myself ready for a harder one to follow but that didn't happen. Instead the machine wound down and once more I was left waiting for something to happen.

WHACK!

It had to be a good ten or fifteen minutes later that I got to feel a rather sharp blow across the seat of my shorts from the automated paddle, and by then, the stinging was getting past the sore stage seeing as I couldn't move around so the rubber blade was striking me in the same place each time. Not that this particularly mattered, as the size and shape of the blade, not to mention the upward angle it was spanking me in, ensure that it got to cover all of my bum, each and every time it spanked me.

Time passed slowly, with the gaps between the blows seemingly getting longer and longer, and yet I was unable to totally relax as I just didn't know when the blade would be striking again. My bum was throbbing from the pain, but it wasn't the only part of me that was throbbing by a long way.

I didn't need to look in the mirror to know that the lump in my shorts was back, even though it did sort of deflate whenever the machine spanked me, it would soon return to its steel-like form, from where it could continue to leak out, seemingly endless qualities of pre-cum into my shorts. Already the entire left hand side of the light tan material was soaked a deep dark colour that could easily have been taken for my having wet myself, in terror, rather than being a direct result of my having fun.

Eventually, of course, the ice melted – mostly down my back – but before that happened I must have come at least three times, all, of course, without the use of my hands, or anyone else's hands, come to that. The first spasm took my by surprise, and left me shuddering for a good few minutes, drained, until the click of the machine coming back to life, returned me to my senses once more.

The second orgasm, wasn't anywhere near as spectacular as the first, but it still left me hanging in the brace, breathless behind the gagging bit, for even longer this time, as the machine didn't bring me around so fast.

The third, I barely even noticed, that's why I'm not entirely sure it happened. Well, I know something happened, as there was a shudder that ran right through my body at one point, that didn't seem to have any reason, so I deduced it was an orgasm, but who knows.

Still, by the time the ice had melted I was something of a wreck, so it took a lot longer than I'd originally thought to be able to free myself. Thankfully by this time, the spanking machine had run out of power so was no longer a threat. Not that this actually made it all that easier to get the key to swing far enough from side to side so that I could grab it in my shaking hands, and turn it in the lock, but still. I did and was able to free myself from the bondage I'd put myself in.

Epilogue

That adventure turned out to be my last one in the old scout hut. My time with granddad was coming to an end, as was the summer of my fourteenth year, but, as I cleared up and put everything away, one last time, I vowed I'd be back the following year with some new ideas. Only that never happened.

Over the winter just before I turned fifteen, granddad, became ill, and although he would prove to have a good few more years in him, he could no longer live and work on the farm by himself. So he sold it and moved into a nursing home, which, of course, didn't have room for a teenage boy to stay, no matter how strangely desperate he was to do so.

Naturally, my games and adventures didn't stop completely just because I didn't have access to the scout hut anymore, but that, as they say, is another story, for another time.

The End