Friday, 24 July 2015
Christopher's Story: Part 6
David was astonished at the size of Francis’ penis. Now that Francis had been ‘scalped’ by the two young cowboys, Terry and Ben, it looked even larger… more so as it was obvious to all who saw his penis that Francis was having an erection.
“Would you look at that nob…” David gasped and wriggled sideways so that Joseph, to whom he was tied back-to-back, could have a better look, “Look! He’s getting a nob-on too!”
“He’s not the only one…” Joseph muttered to himself, only too aware of his own aroused penis sticking out from the ridiculously revealing loincloth his mum had made him wear to play Cowboys and Indians with Terry and Ben. Joseph struggled with the cords that bound him to David. “It’s not fair…”
“Oh, shut up, Joe… stop wriggling or you’ll have us both over,” David said, not taking his eyes from the sight of Francis’ big, freshly denuded penis. It was getting bigger… David’s mouth fell open as he watched, “Wow… look at that!”
David wasn’t the only only transfixed by the sight of Francis’ growing erection. As the penis pushed its way outwards the flimsy slip of leather that formed the Red Indian costume slid to one side. Sarah and Sam watched and relished their older brother’s palpable embarrassment.
“Wait ‘til I tell mum…” Sarah said to her younger sister, “She told me to make sure Francis behaved himself…”
“Excuse me mam…” Terry said and touched his cowboy hat politely as he interrupted the cowgirls watching Francis getting ever more embarrassed, “... but we’ve got some work to do.”
Terry explained they had information the Redskins were in possession of dangerous weapons and if the cowgirls would agreed to lend a hand they were sure that if they all worked together the Indians could be disarmed.
“I reckon as how them varmints have got their weapons fully loaded, miss…” Ben chipped in, “You be mighty careful now and do as Terry says…”
Sarah wasn’t sure what her younger sister as thinking, but she had a reasonably good idea what the cowboys were talking about. She walked over to Joseph and David, looked them both up and down as she slowly circled them. Joseph blushed deep red and looked at the ground beneath his feet when he saw Sarah look at his penis sticking out through the braided loincloth. The poor boy couldn't help himself and his penis jerked as it gradually moved upwards. Instinctively Joseph tried to turn away from the cowgirls, but being securely tied back-to-back to David, this proved difficult to achieve without causing himself more shame and embarrassment as his penis flopped from side-to-side. David stood his ground as best he could in order to stop them both from falling over and yelled at his fellow Redskin to keep still.
“Come on, miss, we better move these varmints over there…” Terry said and pointed over to where Francis had been left hanging with his hands tied above his head to a tree branch.
Christopher watched from his prone position, hogtied on the ground just a few feet away. From where he was Christopher could see how Francis’ big penis had pushed the tiny loincloth to one side and was now pointing skywards. This meant his rather plump and well-developed testicles were fully displayed in their hairless ball-sac.
“Hmm…” Christopher thought as he watched Francis’ foreskin start to ease back of its own accord and wondered if Francis was in for the same sort of teasing and tickle-torture to which he had been subjected. Christopher wriggled about on the ground. He could feel his own lengthening penis rubbing the warm, dry grass that was also tickling his bare thighs. It was not a comfortable position to be in and Christopher would rather have been tied up like David and Joseph… well, Christopher would rather not have been tied up at all! But he knew that wasn’t going to happen, not playing Cowboys and Indians with Terry and Ben. What Christopher really, really wanted was to wank himself silly. By now Christopher was so desperate he’d have done anything… well almost anything… to have a wank. He’d lost track of all the times since he’d been staying with Mrs Harper when he’d been thwarted in his attempts to masturbate. Every time he thought he’d found an opportunity to play with his penis, Christopher heard someone approaching and was forced into vehement denials that he was up to anything naughty.
“Omygod!! Francis!” Sarah yelled when she turned and saw just how engorged her older brother’s penis was becoming. Sam looked shocked and thought Francis was being a very naughty boy and Sarah acted as if she too was appalled by Francis’ behaviour. Taking the lead, Sarah appealed to the cowboys:
"Terry... look!" Sarah said, "Look what this Redskin is doing... Is there anything we can do?"
Sarah looked for all the world as if she was about to reach for the smelling-salts... as if she were a winsome young maid who needed a big strong cowboy like Terry to take care of her.
"Keep calm, miss," Terry said and assured her he knew how to deal with this sort of thing, "Redskins are pesky critters, miss, but don't you worry, Ben and me'll see to it you won't get hurt..."
David and Joseph were moved and positioned so that Joseph was facing Francis. For his part, Joseph's penis was almost as engorged as Francis' and as they were made to stand less than a foot apart, Ben piped up:
“If you’d care to follow me, miss and then we’ll show you how we make these Redskins dance…”
Sarah was intrigued by these words and eagerly followed the young cowboy. Ben stopped and took a pair of stout gloves from the bag as well as a pair of secateurs. “It’s as well to come prepared,” he explained as they walked across the field. Sarah’s face lit up with surprise when she saw what lay ahead of them. It was the nettle-patch!
“Oh, my! You're not going to… with those… you wouldn’t…” It was difficult to tell whether Sarah was excited or shocked at the prospect of teasing the Red Indians with nettles.
“Fresh green stinging-nettles… there’s nothing like them for getting Redskins to talk,” Ben explained as he cut a bunch from the large clump that grew in the corner of the field, “When those varmints see these nettle-leaves… you should hear them holler! They’ll soon show us whether their rifles are loaded…”
“You mean… you mean you’re going to get them to… to… with their rifles?” Sarah thought she knew what Ben was talking about. At least she hoped she knew! The idea these young cowboys could… oh, playing Cowboys and Indians was far more exciting than she could ever have imagined.
“Sure thing, miss… once they feel a stinging-nettle tickling them, they’ll do anything,” Ben said matter-of-factly.
“Do you, um, make them fire their rifles every game… I mean every time you play Cowboys and Indians?”
“Not every time,” Ben informed her, “It depends who’s playing. Can’t let Christopher… Terry said his mum… Mrs Harper, told him he’s not allowed to.”
Sarah was intrigued by this revelation, but Ben couldn’t enlighten her any further. It didn’t matter a great deal to her, because she was far too interested about what would happen to Francis when he was questioned by the cowboys.
“Are you going to make Francis fire his rifle?” she asked.
“We’ll see,” was all that Ben would say.
As they made their way back across the meadow to the copse, Sarah and Ben saw how helpless the Red Indians were. Christopher was lying, hogtied on the ground. He’d exhausted himself and for the time being lay still and watched what was going on around him. When he saw what Ben was carrying he kept quite still and prayed the nettles weren’t going to come his way. Joe, facing Francis, couldn’t see the two approaching, so didn’t understand the horrified look on the older boy’s face. David started squirming immediately he recognised the saw-toothed edged leaves of the green stinging-nettles. This caused Joseph to nearly fall face first against Francis who was tied up with his arms hoisted high above his head.
David had experienced a nettling before and so had good reason to jerk back, away from the fresh green leaves that Ben held in his gloved hand.
Francis couldn't believe what Terry and Ben were up to. For goodness sake they were only ten years old. How did they know about the persuasive powers of stinging nettles? Francis prayed they didn't want anything from him, he'd been humiliated enough as it was having his pubes removed. Heaven knows what he was going to say when his classmates saw him in the school showers. He struggled helplessly twisting his almost nude body in a hopeless attempt to free himself, but the sight of the horrid green stingers and what they were capable of caused a most unexpected reaction in the seventeen year old.
Francis had first encountered stinging nettles as a young boy scout when, on his first camp he was initiated into his patrol. This involved, among other things, being ‘pegged out’. As Francis struggled in vain, face-to-face with Joseph, he vividly recalled how he had been stripped and chased bare-nude around the scout camp, before being spread-eagled on the ground to have his wrists and ankles securely tied to the pegs which had been driven into the ground earlier. Francis remembered how he’d been teased by his fellow patrol members who’d all gloatingly told Francis how they’d all been tickled by the nettles during their own initiations. The young scouts brandished a few stalks of freshly cut nettles in the direction of Francis’ penis. It hardly needs saying that Francis had never in all his young life felt as helpless as he did that day… until, that is, he found himself forced to play Cowboys and Indians with Terry and Ben, along with his younger sisters helping out as cowgirls. Dammit, he was seventeen! Far too old to be playing stupid games of Cowboys and Indians!
Francis twisted and turned and twisted himself about in frustration at the end of the rope that held him tied securely with his arms in the air… but it was no use.
“It won’t do you any good,” Joseph said in an attempt to commiserate with his fellow Red Indian.
“I don’t care,” Francis said petulantly, “I shouldn’t be playing stupid games with little… little…” he glanced at Joseph’s precocious penis as it poked out from the absurdly revealing play-outfit. Francis realised ‘little’ possibly wasn’t the correct descriptor to use in Joseph’s case, “...well, um, kids anyway…” he conceded.
Sarah walked up to her helpless brother. She’d heard what her brother had just said, “... but mummy says you were playing games… playing games all by yourself… in your bedroom. Mummy said that’s why she wanted you to get some fresh air, instead of playing on your own…”
Francis was mortified. He had a pretty good idea mummy knew what he’d been doing all alone in his bedroom, but he prayed to god she hadn’t said anything to Sarah. It was bad enough when Joseph sniggered… after all both boys were helplessly displaying the most blatant erections imaginable. It was difficult to think that Sarah hadn’t deduced what might be implied by mummy’s words, but Sarah kept her counsel.
While Francis was distracted by his sister, Ben had moved closer towards David. Ben shook the green stinging-nettles threateningly at the Redskin. Instinctively David pushed back against Joseph.
“Hey! Watch out! Stop pushing!” Joseph yelled, not realising what was happening behind him, “Stop pushing… or...or…”
“Yeargh! Get that thing off me!” Francis screamed, as Joseph pushed forward and rubbed his penis against the older boy. Joseph tried to move, but David kept pressing back to dodge the nettles which forced Joseph to push against Francis. The boys’ penises rubbed together and the more they wriggled about the stiffer their nobs became.
Francis was horrified, but not for perhaps the more obvious reason that he was revolted by the touch of Joseph’s penis against his body. No, it was because Francis feared that bodily contact would stimulate him beyond the point at which he would lose his own self-control.
More memories of his scout camp initiation flashed through Francis’ mind. He remembered how he’d been tickled beyond endurance; how his fellow boy scouts had laughed as they watched him being teased; how he’d wriggled shamelessly, but to no avail, against his bonds. But what was worse, much worse, was when he saw the green leaves getting closer and ever closer to his painfully stiff penis…
Francis remembered vividly the effect of one little tickle of the stinging-nettle on the shaft of his penis. Those tiny red bumps had itched for hours afterwards. The other boys had laughed as Francis kept scratching and rubbing himself after he was released from the pegging-out. The more he tried to relieve his itching penis, the worse the itch became. Francis’ penis remained stoically erect, as had been the intention of his nettling. In the end, and much to his acute embarrassment, Francis sought relief through masturbation after his patrol leader told him solemnly the only known cure for nettle-rash on the penis was to rub fresh cum onto the affected area.
Francis, even though he was seventeen years old, still believed what his patrol leader had told him. The thought of having to endure a nettling in front of everyone… including his sisters… while tied up helplessly was rapidly becoming an intolerable torment. What would happen when those itchy little stings needed the soothing balm of fresh cum? Francis could almost feel those tiny horrid red bumps and the thought of them… the thought of how itchy his penis would feel… had the perverse effect of making Francis somewhat more excited than ever!
Feeling Joseph’s penis pushing up against his own was not helping matters and Francis tried to push himself away from the younger boy. As much as he could Francis pushed his bottom back out and made himself look quite ridiculous in the process. Sam and Sarah squealed with delight at their older brother’s obvious anguish. Mum had given them carte blanche to do whatever was needed to ensure Francis ‘got lots of fresh air’ and the girls were certainly taking mum at her word. Francis, dressed in nothing more than an absurd and deliciously revealing Red Indian costume, hanging by his wrists from a rope looped over a tree branch, was clearly getting more fresh air than even mum had perhaps intended. Francis, unable to do anything about his excited, denuded, penis which had so easily pushed the ridiculously small loincloth flap to one side, was trapped, helpless and completely at the mercy of his sisters and the cowboys.
Shamelessly Francis started to beg Sarah to please do something before things got out of hand… Those weren’t the exact words he used of course, since Ben was fast approaching, shaking the fresh green nettle leaves menacingly in Francis’ direction.
“Please Sarah… please don’t let them… don’t let them get any closer… Please… I mean it, Sarah…”
Sarah, who was turning out to be a bit of a tomboy, much to the approval of Terry and Ben, simply told Francis not to be such softy, a form of rebuke reserved for boys who were afraid to get their knees dirty and who would do anything to duck out of games.
“I’m going to tell mummy you wouldn’t play properly… you’re a cowardy-custard…” she said firmly.
Francis was deeply offended. Even as he was suspended, near nude, with memories of his scout initiation once more fresh in his memory; even as Ben approached him with the horrid stinging-nettles ready to tickle him, he felt honour-bound to defend himself.
"I'm not a cowardy-custard..." he said, "I bet you've never been..." Then he stopped as the full horror of what a nettle-tickling would mean.
Ben moved closer and David was relieved to see that for the moment it wasn't he who was going to be tickled with the green, spiky leaves. Joseph and he struggled to move themselves out of the way, while Christopher looked up to see Terry moving towards him. Sam walked over to where Christopher was lying, hogtied, on the ground.
"We're going to need your assistance," Terry explained, as he leant over to release Christopher from the hogtie, "That there injun..." he said and pointed towards Francis, "... I can tell he knows about the rifles... but he's going to need some persuading..."
Christopher wasn't about to question Terry's motives. As long as he was allowed to stand up again and they kept those nettles away from him, Terry could 'persuade' Francis as much as he liked. Christopher was relieved just to stretch his legs. He still had his hands tied behind his back and Terry had instructed Sam to tie his ankles together with sufficient slack so that he could hobble to where his fellow captives were.
At last Joseph could see what had so horrified David and Francis as Ben brandished the leaves of stinging-nettles in front of Francis.
"Are you going to tell us about the rifles?" Terry demanded of Francis.
"I don't know what you're talking about..." Francis replied truthfully.
"Looks like we're going to have to make him talk," Terry said turning to Ben.
Ben was eager to see the effects of the stingers on Francis, but for the moment moved them to within a few inches of Francis' erect penis. The effect was extraordinary. To everyone's amazement the big penis began to ooze pre-cum.
"Take them away!" Francis yelled as he struggled in vain to put some distance between himself and the horrid nettles.
"Tell us about your rifle," Terry demanded, "When did you last fire it?!"
"I... I don't know what you mean..."
Terry nodded to Ben who leered and brushed the green nettle leaves across the side of Francis' penis. Within seconds half a dozen tiny red bumps appeared on the stiff shaft and Francis jerked as he felt a terrible need to scratch himself. In desperation he thrust his hips back and forth which made his penis slap his tummy and bounce about. Even his fellow captured Indians thought the sight of Francis’ impromptu ‘war-dance’ highly amusing.
“I don’t know what you’re on about… No! No! Please…!” Francis twisted himself this way and that, but it was no use. Ben deftly swiped the nettles over Francis’ stiff penis once more. Again a neat row of little red bumps appeared, ready to add to Francis’ torment.
“Stop it! Stop it! Please… Sarah, tell them to stop it…” Francis begged.
“Oh, don’t be such a sissy, Francis…” his sister admonished him, “It’s only a few stinging-nettles…” Sarah turned to her sister Sam, who was watching the proceedings with a look of fascination that bordered on delight at her older brother’s misfortune. Clearly there was some history between these two. “Do you think we should tell mummy that Francis is being a sissy, Sam?” Sarah asked.
“Sure… unless,” Sam hesitated, “Unless he faces a firing-squad…”
This ultimatum took Sarah by surprise. It seemed to reveal that her younger sister had more of a working knowledge of boys’ games than she would have expected.
It was Terry’s turn to speak: “Beg pardon, miss… but are you sure you want this here Redskin varmit to face a firing squad? I mean do you know…”
“I know what a firing squad is,” Sam said with an air of haughtiness that surprised Sarah even more.
Ben just salivated at the thought of a firing squad. “Want me to tickle the varmint some more, boss?” he asked Terry who thought for a moment then nodded. “Gonna need someone to hold him steady… he’s a-twisting..."
"We'll hold him," Sam said and stepped forward, "Come on, Sarah..."
Together the girls gripped Francis on each side of his waste. Francis protested, but this achieved nothing, aside from making him look even more of weed than before... although this hardly seemed possible.
"That's it, hold him still," Terry said, then added to Ben, "Give him another tickle with the nettles..."
"No... please, I'll tell you anything you want to know..." Francis pleaded. His penis was unbearably itchy and he longed to be untied so he could run away and sooth the terrible stings.
"It's too late for that you pesky varmint," Terry replied as Ben drew the nettles up between Francis’ legs and tickled the older boy’s ball-sac with the green tips of the sawtooth-stingers.
“Wow, boss… this ‘uns got his rifle loaded for sure!” Ben said gleefully as more pre-cum erupted from Francis’ penis and trickled down the shaft, “Want me to give him another tickle?”
“No… not just yet,” Terry replied and turned to face Joseph… or rather Joseph’s penis. “We’ll use this rifle first… what do you think?”
“Reckon it’s ready, boss,” Ben said.
Joseph wriggled about in protest. Much as he enjoyed using his rifle for target practice, he didn’t like the idea of it being fired off in public… and certainly not in front of Sarah and Sam!
“No! I don’t want to…” Joseph protested, but he found himself ignored as Terry set about organising the firing squad detail. Now it became clear why Christopher had been released from his uncomfortable hogtie, as Ben untied Christopher’s right hand. Christopher had been selected to fire Joseph’s rifle, while the cowgirls held Francis in the firing line.
It was a particularly fiendish of Terry to make Christopher use his ‘trigger-finger’ to fire Joseph’s rifle. Christopher, who had been frustrated beyond endurance since moving to Mrs Harper’s while his mum was away, couldn’t believe his ears when Terry told him to take hold of the rifle sticking out from Joseph’s loincloth. Why can’t Terry let me use my own rifle, Christopher thought? My rifle's loaded with plenty of ammunition…
Ben threatened Christopher with a nettling if he didn’t get on with it and take hold of Joseph’s rifle. Christopher had little choice but to do as the young cowboy told him, so, desperately wishing it was his own penis, he grasped Joseph’s stiff nob and started to masturbate the boy.
Francis went ballistic and yelled at Christopher to stop, but Christopher couldn’t stop, not with the ever-present threat of being tickled with the sawtooth stingers being waved in his direction by Ben. Joseph quickly got over his feelings of modesty and started panting with excitement. Meanwhile David, facing the other way, was missing out on all the feverish activity, but by the way Joseph was squirming and noises his friend was making, David soon had a pretty good idea what was going on behind him.
“Don’t you dare let him spray cum on me!” Francis shouted and pleaded with Christopher not to point Joseph’s nob in his direction. But just at that moment Joseph shuddered, pushed his hips out (and nearly toppled over himself and David in the process) as the first blast of cum exploded from his rifle. It landed with a splat high on Francis' chest and dribbled all the way down over the older boy's tummy. The cowboys and cowgirls were delighted to see Joseph’s rifle fire and there was certainly plenty of ammunition as Christopher worked Joseph's nob as if it were a pump-action carbine.
Francis was appalled at the force and quantity of Joseph’s fire-power, but the older boy took everyone by complete surprise when a low shot from Joseph’s rifle caught Francis square on the head of his exposed penis. Without warning Francis, who it was now apparent had been all along on the brink of firing his own rifle, suddenly grunted and sent forth a blast of cum that landed square on Christopher’s tummy. By the time the two boys had expended their ammunition Francis was well and truly covered in Joseph’s rifle-fire and Christopher was dripping with the results of Francis’ totally unexpected blasts.
Francis, hanging limply from the rope above his head, was startled to hear Terry call out the next order:
“Firing squad… about turn!”
It was David’s turn to display his shooting skills. He and the exhausted Joseph shuffled around in a circle to swap places so that David was facing Francis. Needless to say Francis pleaded with Terry and Ben not to make Christopher fire David’s rifle as well, but he was silenced by his sisters who told him not to be such a sissy.
So Francis ended up facing the fire-power of two rifles. Both he and Christopher looked as if they'd been up to no good, but at least Francis did have the satisfaction of release, which is more than can be said of Christopher who remained as frustrated as ever as he felt his hands being tied behind his back once more in readiness for the march back to Mrs Harper's house.
Christopher's heart sank when he realised another opportunity for some furtive penis-play had been missed. But the Red Indians had been captured so quickly, he never had a chance to escape into some bushes... he was so pent up with the urge to masturbate that he wouldn't have even minded if his fellow Redskins had joined him, but it was not to be and now he faced yet another frustrating evening under the watchful eyes of his host.
Christopher gritted his teeth and said to himself: "How much longer...?"