I was just a junior guide but was gaining awards faster than most of my peers, so I was really fortunate to be selected for the Advanced Awards Hike, which was only open to guides who had two years of experience. I was paired up with a rather obnoxious assistant section leader named Clarissa, who was whining about taking a junior girl guide on a twenty odd kilometre hike across a mountain range. The intervention of our teacher in charge cleared all protests.
It was twenty kilometres as the crow flies, but it all depended on the route each pair took. Various Guide and Scouts were participating and we were the defending champions, so Clarissa gave me a sharp lecture on not letting her down. Why would I, I thought, having previously hiked with my family through out roughly the same terrain. There were very little rules and regulations set down, except the icky rule that all teams had to wear their uniforms. For the guys, it was alright but us girls had our legs exposed to the elements and natures creatures. The problem was solved by allowing girls to wear long socks and each female team was provided with extra insect repellent.
The line up was simply at t he edge of a forest and with a sort introductory speech, the masses of guys and girls raced off, each team taking their desired direction. Clarissa claimed to know the shortest and fastest route having performed the hike in the past and we made steady progress, hardly stopping to rest. After around two hours, we reached what was called the “Swinging Beam” which was simply a rickety old bridge. Despite the danger it posed, teams were allowed to cross it as safety nets were wired below. Gingerly, I lead the way and Clarissa followed, almost losing balanced. “#$%^,” she muttered then paused in her tracks and yanked out a knife.
“What are you doing? Cutting the bridge is against the rules!!” I exclaimed. “Shut up. The bridge is at breaking point anyway. We’re leading the pack and no one’s around. Unless you want to lose the game, you saw nothing, clear?” I nodded and with a light cut, “Swinging Beam” became “Broken Beam”.The rest of the hike was uneventful, save the constant buzzing of insects attacking my face and limbs and the perspiration that was building up around my body. It was about five afternoon when, crack, the ground below us gave way.
“OWWW!” We both screamed as our buttocks struck some rocky ground. We both chorused “are you okay” to each other but before we could get up we each were pounced upon. Something like close to 65kg of weigh fell upon me and immediately silenced my mouth by jamming what felt like a cloth into it. My protests and struggling was futile as I felt my arms wrenched behind my back and rope cutting into my skin. “Mmmmph!!” I cried and I heard my leader’s muffled scream to, but my ankles soon received the same treatment.
Finally, I was yanked up and dragged across the ground a pole that was hammered into place. More rope encircled my breasts and stomach, lashing me to the pole. Our captors were the scouts from our main rival school, Lemington High. “Mm..what the, Clarissa screamed as her cloth was removed. “What are you guys doing?” she screamed.
“Pay back, bitch. Last year you jammed the pathway with rocks and now you cut the bridge. And we’ve got evidence”, one of them growled as he tightened the ropes around breasts. “Hey, this is also against the rules!” I exclaimed. “Oh look, you’ve got a little protégé. Well missy, no one knows but we know all about the bridge cutting. And you’re team will lose for sure—you won’t be found for a while and we’ve got a video of you pranksters. Now, if you don’t mind,” I was about to protest but the cloth was jammed back into my mouth and held in place with a large stripe of duct tape.
The two boys then scaled up the hole using rope and with one saying “Auf Wiedersehen ladies,” they threw a camouflage netting over the top and left us all truss up. Immediately, we both started struggling but their knots were too perfect—they were after all scouts. This can’t be happening, I thought, why did she have to cut the stupid bridge? It was about half an hour of futile struggling later when the netting above us was yanked away. I glanced up and saw the same captors, one of them climbing down with a rope. The main ropes around me were swiftly cut away and I was yanked up with the rope attached to my bounds. Minutes later, Clarissa who was grunting or possibly swearing, was hoisted up too. “Walk ladies, and don’t give us trouble.” Thus, we continued our hike, bound and gagged.
The sun was quickly setting and the boys led us to a clearing. By then, I was drenched with sweat and my bound hands ached. The stuffed gag was also a discomfort in drying my throat out. We were shove to the ground and our ankles were trussed up again before our gags were removed. “#%..,ow!” Clarissa’s swearing was cut off with a tight slap across here face. “Any more dirty stuff from you and you’ll be forever gagged, got it?” Meanwhile, I thankfully accepted the short drink from the other captor/scout who then proceeded to unpack. Scanning around, I was again thankful that our backpacks were also retrieved but the burning question when we going to be free?
“We’ll make a deal. You be with us for the next few days or so until the valley area, where we’ll release you but never mention what you did today. If you don’t agree, we’ll dump you in another ditch and leave you permanently stranded. Whatcha say?” The “leader”, whose name turned out to be Jonathan proposed. I glanced at Clarissa with half pleading eyes, but silently fuming at her for getting us into this predicament in the first place. She muttered a silence yes and our wrists bounds were re bound in front of us, allowing us to barely scoop the canned food that was prepared.
After a meagre dinner, we were re-gagged but with cloth cleave gags this time, after promising not to scream. There were only two tents amongst the four of us—our and the boy’s—but they didn’t want us to be together. Instead, Clarissa was bound inside our tent while my wrists were secured to the pole of the boys tent, with both of them pretty close by. Having noticed the insects buzzing, they kindly threw a blanket across my exposed legs but that was all the comfort I would get. For the next two hours, I sat there in my increasingly greasy and damp uniform trying to think of puzzles or poems while the two captors chatted away.
“Bed time. We want to start early so that we get even further ahead.” Naturally teams were allowed to change out to sleeping gear and all they had to do snap a dated photograph before and after sleeping. This was about the only time Clarissa and I were free of our bonds and gag. “Hmm, now we don’t want any trouble from you two. So strip to your underwear.” I was about to protest when Clarissa undid her blouse. Bloody hell, I thought, but responded similarly. Being the tom boyish kind, Clarissa wore a black sports bra that covered most of her chest and matching sport panties. I wore a normal white bra and blue underwear which most definitely aroused the boys, given their looks. For our “bed time”, we were zipped up in our sleeping bags but with our wrists tied behind and cords wrapped around the back to prevent us from moving much. The cleave gag was in place again, but only after another drink of water. I was with the only scout, Bruce and thus ended my first day of hiking in a rather unusual circumstance.
Being in such a position, I naturally had a rather horrible sleep and was really groggy as Bruce woke me up. My bonds were gratefully removed and the drink of water barely helped to cleanse my parched throat. I murmured the need to change underwear and he stepped out for a few minutes for me to change to a beige bra and panties, then finally placing on a new set of uniform. Outside, my leader was ready and after snapping the required photos, we set about packing up. “Ok, ladies, we’ll make it easy on you but no trouble making.” That meant that we would have a piece of cloth in our mouth but no proper gag. Our wrists would be bound in front of us lightly but enough so that we could carry our own backpacks. That said, it was still uncomfortable and the makeshift gag did dry my mouth out quickly.
The scouts proceeded via their own route, but it soon seemed that it was as much a short cut as Clarissa’s. It was near midday when we heard noises and the boys quickly yanked us behind trees, concealing our bonds. “How did they get here so fast?”. Looks like we weren’t the first team, I thought. After the chattering disappeared, the boys hastened the pace so fast that I nearly lost my balance. Our lunch break was pretty short—just to grab a energy bar bite when Clarissa tried to make a run for it. I wasn’t sure about her plan, but as the boys were looking the other way, she darted off.
“Get her!” Jonathan screamed as he held on to me. Clarissa really didn’t have chance as she was brought back, her screams muffled by Brue hand. “You bitch, ” Jonathan yelled and within minutes, her wrists were doubly secured behind her back. “I’ll deal with you later,” he yelled, and placed Clarissa’s backpack in front of her.
We continued our travels, with each boy tightly grabbing each of us lest there was another escape. Finally, we reached a creek and another campsite was set up. However, Jonathan first, yanked both of us by our blouses and said, “you both will suffer for that incident earlier.” He reached into my backpack and demanded to know which of my underwear was clean. Puzzled, I pointed to one and yanking out the cloth, he forced my knickers into my mouth. “Mmmph!” I cried nearly choking but that was to no avail as it was secured which a piece of tape. Clarissa was similarly asked and thus both of us were humiliated with our knickers as gags. “Fix the campsite,” we were instructed. Once again sticky, we did so and were “rewarded” by being hogtied. Each boy took turns dipping in the stream, torturing us further.
Our further punishment was to prepare dinner for the guys while still gagged with our underwear. We were “tortured further” by watching have most of the meal while we were given a smaller portion, fed to us while we were tied up. We were trussed back into our hogtied, loser but still restrictive and kept apart. It’s not my fault, I silently screamed, trying to find a less strenuous position. It was to no avail and tears started streaming down my cheeks. Somehow, Jonathan noticed and suddenly undid my hogtie. “Watch the bitch,” he instructed Bruce and carried my bound body to the creek.
“Looks like you need a bath,” he remarked and started to undo my other bonds. It was so cat-like and partly sensual as he undid my uniform. I moaned under my gag but then my hands were tied again. Clad in my underwear, He lead me to the creek and the cool water was indeed a welcoming touch. Then, the cat like process continued as he rubbed my face and hair with soap and did so like wise for my arms and legs, missing my main body. “here,” he said, pulling my bound hands in front of me and slipping the soap into my fingers. I hesitantly began scrubbing my bra clad breasts and torso, then hoping he was not looking, I clean my crotch area. “That’s it for now babe,” he said and guided my back up.
In any other case, I would have screamed molest but there was some kind spark from that guy, even though he was my captor. I was allowed to change my underwear before being subjected to a simply tie—albeit with ropes above and below my breasts. Meanwhile, Clarissa was subjected to further punishment as she was forced to bend on a kneeling position while each boy took turns swatting her bottom. Their spanking must have been really painful since Clarissa’s muffled grunts were pretty large. After about thirty paddlings, they proceeded to secured her with more rope criss-crossing her breasts, firmly pulling them and enhancing her small cleavage. Her bound hands were attached to a rope looped around her crotch and secured around her torso. “This is a crotch rope Mandy, but lucky for you, you won’t be subjected to it. Unless you misbehave.” Noting how my senior was constantly moaning, I certainly did not desire a rope that would tingle me and arouse sexual thoughts. Their final act was to place another of her panties over her head and blindfold her, before wrapping her tightly in her sleeping bag.
Jonathan approached me, again in a cat like manner. If you still remember, I was gagged with my own underwear which by now had soaked up my saliva. Once again, I was thankful as her gently peeled off the tape and eased the soggy undergarment out of my mouth. With it all damp, I only had about two pairs of undies left. “You won’t get this anymore, but I hope you won’t cause any trouble.” I nodded but only received the piece of tape in return, and him adjusting my falling bra strap.
I got a slightly better sleep than the night before, mostly because of my bath. Once out, I noticed that Clarissa’s hair was wet—perhaps she did get a bath too. This time round, a rope was attached to both of our waists, locking us together. Clarissa still had her underwear jammed in her mouth and as a further punishment, she was not allowed to wear her bra. That was ok for my senior since her boobs were that big; conversely if it was me it would be really humiliating. We set off, this time of a path traced on Clarissa’s map which would bring us around the large lake and to the base of the mountain. From there the finish point wouldn’t be that far away but we were in the dark as to where the boys would “dump” us. Everything seem alright until an hour into our travel when I felt dampness between my legs. Even at fourteen years old, my periods were irregular and I would have worn a pad had I noted been kept in restraints for the past two days. “Mmmph!” My cry jolted everyone and the brown stain rapidly grew on my skirt. “Aw, babe did you bring pads?” I nodded but he shook his head. “Later. We’ve got to hustle.” I moaned in despair as this was my last uniform skirt; I couldn’t possibly continued with a bloody stain on it.
I had to for the next few hours and tried to ignore the dampness until finally we stoped to rest. Clarissa was hogtied again while Jonathan fished out my toiletries kit and escorted me to the side. Was he going to watch me me change? No, but one wrist was lashed to his arm. I further realised that I was running out of clean underwear and had to wash my pairs soon. The tugging on the rope however meant that I would have to inform them about this later.
A large chasm soon appeared before us and the only way across was to swing across using the hanging vines. The boys threw our backpacks across but stopped to confer. “We’re not letting either make a run once they cross.” That meant that Bruce went first, followed by Clarissa who was untied then me and finally Jonathan. Unfortunately, I landed flat and was soaked in mud. Aw great, further stains on my uniform. That chasm was not the only one that day as another materialised a few metres ahead. This time, vines were absent but there was a stone formation that surrounded part of it. Two small holes were visible and that indicated the route across.
“We can’t fit through that hole. Wait, you can,” Bruce remarked, jabbing his finger at me. “But we can’t let her escape.” “She won’t,” Jonathan replied but Bruce gave a indication of disbelief. I was made to go across, albeit without my blouse. That was a blessing and curse, as I didn’t have to deal with a muddy top but my skin was exposed to the coarse stone. It took at least fifteen minutes and as small as I was, I had to squirm like worm to reach the other side.
We paused early which meant that Clarissa was made to pitch the tents with the boys while I sat bound wrists and feet. “Mmmph”, I tried to say can I get a change and finally Jonathan responded, undoing all but my gag. Grabbing my pack, we again moved to the side.
What happened next was a sequence of slow moving events. I tried to signal that I needed privacy, but he instead held me firm and worked the buttons of my stained blouse with one hand. “Mmmph”, I cried through the tape but it was to no avail as he slid off the clothing. “Your bra’s dirty too,” he remarked then slide off my skirt. I started trembling this time, a girl with her menses in front of a guy. Grabbing one arm, He fished out on of my shirts but instead of letting me wear it, he worked the clasp of my bra.”Mmmph!” I cried but he paid no attention and slid of the undergarment. “You bra’s dirty but just put on the shirt, ok?” Trembling, I did so, one arm wrapped around my exposed bosom.
He gave me more dignity my letting me wear shorts and finally we were back. “Urm,” was all Bruce said at my bra-less figure. “We’ve got to conserve rope, hand me those calbe ties will you?” A side note: All teams brought cable ties to secure their tents and ground mats. My sore wrists were subjected to the sharp plastic but my ankles were free and I was allowed a cleave gag. As for Clarissa, she was locked in a ninety degrees hogtie with an extra piece of tape across he mouth.
Dinner passed as before and we girls sat bound as the guys played rounds of cards. A rustling noise broke the silence and chattering was heard. “Quick, throw them in.” I was ungracefully pushed into a tent with Clarissa landing on top of me. “How are you,” I head. “Fine,” came Bruce’s reply. “Why are there four tents? Oh, some other team pitched on the same spot but we don’t know where they are.” “Oh? Well, we better check then.” Those voices were no doubt the roaming patrols for safety purposes. Clarissa moan but her gag was too strong for her cry to be heard.
Time passed slowly for us bound females and even the light cleave gag started to dry my mouth out. Jonathan finally threw down his deck and marched over to me. “Where are you taking her? “Just to freshen her up. Watch the other one.” I was cradled in Jonathan’s arms and again he picked up by bag. My gag was lowered and I accepted the sip of water. “Do you need to change your pad?” he asked. Never expecting that, I said yes and asked to put on a bra. The answer was no so my wrists were free and I moved to conceal my changing. Even before I pulled my shorts back up, Jonathan grabbed me from behind and gave me a long kiss on the lips. It was rather more like a tentacle sucking my lips but somehow, I did not protest.
He locked me in that embrace for a further five minutes before we returned. Instead of being bound in my sleeping bag, he loosely tied my hands behind me and wrapped himself around me through the night. Oh gosh, here was a girl having her period and a guy hugging her in a lover-type of hug.
I awoke, still bra less but thankfully no longer locked in Jonathan’s embrace. The boys announced that we would set off much later but that meant us girls had to remain bound and gagged while resting. We both were given light hogties, hands locked with the plastic ties and rope around our breasts. Clarissa was stripped to her underwear again and given the crotch rope and a blindfold but we were both gagged with several strips of tape.
The march off again involved Clarissa without her bra and her panties in her mouth. I’m not sure whether it was the same panties, if not Clarissa’s set would be all soggy by now. This time it was an upward climb and given our bonds and being linked, the boys had to help us up the slope. Another water body greeted us behind the mini cliff and although we didn’t travel that far, we took a break there.
We I said “take a break”, it was more a break for the scouts while we captives were subjected to another of their rituals. Our gags were first reinforced with a cleave gag and then a strip of tape over it. Check to make sure I was ok (I guess since I was having my period), my blouse was removed while the bra-less Clarissa’s skirt was ripped off, showing her red underwear. A rope was looped around Clarissa’s crotch and only then were we forced together such that my hands were connected to the rope around Clarissa. Essentially, if I moved my bound wrists, Clarissa would feel a tug on that rope. While Bruce secured our legs with plastic ties, Jonathan secured us together with more rope. Finally, we were laid down with blankets over us.
“Mmmph..mmpp!” Clarissa cried and I suspected she was saying stop moving my hands. “!” I replied back, you’re squashing my boobs! We finally rolled to one side but that was little comfort to either of us. Oddly enough, it felt a little arousing although I definitely was no lesbian.
It must have been noon before we were finally released from that tight bondage and the only reward were two energy bars. The next path ahead was sticky mud that was knee high and quite surprisingly both boys carried us over, backpacks and all. That was by far the last challenge of the day as we neared a rather large cave.
“It’s early. Want to stop here?” Jonathan asked his partner. They huddled over a map for a few minutes before agreeing to call this our stop. We moved further into the cave only to find a mass of animal bones. “Mmm, looks like someone had a feast here, no matter we should be alright.” Just then, Clarissa started signalling through muffled cries. “What you want bitch?” “Jonathan asked, yanking out her underwear. “Please, I really need to pee and urm…” “Grr…Bruce, you take her out and don’t let her out of your sight.”
As the two disappeared, I was once again alone with a guy who seemed to have a crush on me. Back to my appearance, I was in my last clean uniform, my hands bound together in front of me and a piece of cloth in my mouth. “Oh babe, you look so stunning,” he breathed as her undid my bonds. I shuddered and yet was half captivated at the same time. “Please, remove your uniform,” he whispered with tone of coyness in my ears. As my undies were exposed his eyes widen, realising that I was still menstruating. “Oh, babe, you still look wonderful, even with that.” “Mmmpph,” I replied, trying to say, “get lost, you dirty guy.”
I was of course in no position to argue as he applied rope to enhance my cleavage and locked me in a ball tie, with my wrists attached to my heels. He disappeared for a moment and returned with a pair of panties in his hand. It definitely wasn’t mine and he confirmed that my saying, “don’t worry babe, this is a clean pair of Clarissa’s. Sorry but…” he extracted the cloth in my mouth and replaced it with the underwear. Gosh, it better be clean as I tasted the cloth. I couldn’t argue further as he used my guide’s scarf to secure it in place. By then, the other two had returned and I watched Clarissa’s predicament. Her blouse was unbuttoned but not removed and she too was subjected to breasts bondage. Once again, a crotch rope was applied and the poor girl’s arms were folded together behind her back and tied together such that her elbows were bent ninety degrees.
“Mmmph..mmpp!” Clarissa cried and I suspected she was saying stop moving my hands. “!” I replied back, you’re squashing my boobs! We finally rolled to one side but that was little comfort to either of us. Oddly enough, it felt a little arousing although I definitely was no lesbian.
It must have been noon before we were finally released from that tight bondage and the only reward were two energy bars. The next path ahead was sticky mud that was knee high and quite surprisingly both boys carried us over, backpacks and all. That was by far the last challenge of the day as we reached a small rocky enclave.
“Perfect spot isn’t it?” Jonathan remarked. “Mmmmmph, Mmhhpp!!” The panties gagged Clarissa yelled. “What, bitch?” “Please, I need to pee and urm…” she hesitated saying the last word. “Argh, Bruce, you watch her and don’t let speed off again.” As the two moved away, I once again was left with this love struck captor. Pretty helpless, I could only shudder as he undid my bonds and asked me to strip to my undies. “Oh,” was all he could say when he saw I was still menstruating. Yeah, I thought, don’t you try anything.
He did. I was bound in a ball tie (go google it) with my wrists locked to my heels. Now, I was temporary free of a gag but it was not long before he held something in his hand. It definitely wasn’t any of my knickers and he confirmed that by saying, “Don’t worry baby, it’s a clean pair. Now,” with a half apologetic tone, my friend’s underwear came into contact with my lips. Was it really clean? It tasted more like sawdust. It better be clean, I thought.
Still, all I could do was groan as my own guide’s scarf was used to secure it in place. By then, the other two had returned. My team leader’s blouse was simply unbuttoned—remember she was bra-less—but her panties too were exposed. She was trussed up in a reverse prayer position with a crotch rope yet again added. It soon dawned upon me that these scouts knew more than basic scouting knots.
For the rest of the time, the boys simply continued another game of cards. Clarissa for the first time was sweating profusely and tears were running down her cheeks. They did release her into a normal hogtie after a while, but added more plastic ties to her wrists and ankles.
I’m skipping much of the events of Day four as they were similar to Day Three. Being in a cave, we didn’t pitch tents but both of us girls were similarly bound and gagged in our sleeping bags.
A heavy morning dew greeted us which immediately dampen my uniform—I had to use one of my old blouses and skirts as everything else was stained and the scarf was worn out after being used as a gag. My period thankfully had stopped and once again Clarissa was panties-gagged and bra-less. “You’re too easy on her,” Bruce remarked, jabbing his finger at me. “I’m the team leader, you just watch over the other one.” How nice, he was so protective, I thought, but still wondered how clean Clarissa’s own gag was by now.
Having only soaked once in water, all of us were filled with the dirt and sweat of the previous few days. My hair was clotted with insect webs and there was the constant buzzing of insects near my eyes and ears. Naturally, with my bound hands, I couldn’t swat any of them away, which made matters worse.
We made considerable progress that day and lo and behold, we were rewarded with the sight of a majestic waterfall and pool before our eyes. “Now, ain’t that a blessing,” exclaimed Jonathan. Business however came first. Both boys wanted to jump in but us girls were their problem. Last time round, we were hogtied but this time round, they had another plan which involved the pegs used to hold the tent to the ground. Both of us were first made to strip of all our clothing and wrap ourselves in towels. “Ya never want to run away naked,” Bruce explained. Then we were made to lie down, arms and legs spread out in a spread eagled position. Ropes connected to the pegs held us in the X shape position while multiple strips of duct tape formed our gags and our scarves completed the blindfold. “Just to be sure ladies, your bags will be with us so in the event of escape, you’ll be running away only in a towel.”
For the next hour, all I could do was listen to their joyful yelps and endure the caterpillars, snails and ants crawling across my bare skin while the sun’s rays beat down mercilessly on me. The “zzz zzz” of an insect, hopefully not a mosquito rang through my ears and appeared right in front of very eyes. “Mmmmph!!” I cried over and over as it landed on my cheek. Just as I thought it would prick my skin, a pair of fingers clouded my vision and plucked the insect away. “Hi, you want to have a proper bath don’t you?” I groaned in return. “You behave yourself you understand?” I nodded and my bounds came off.
The “proper bath” was me really soaking in the pool with him watching but careful not to insult my modesty. For the next half an hour, I soaked in the soothing water rubbing hard everywhere, especially my wrists and ankles, which by now had rope burns. “Out,” he commanded and I left the moment of luxury but quickly covered myself with the towel. With stiff legs, I moved to get a new change but was stopped by him. “Uh huh, new condition. You’re going to be wearing only your towel for the rest of the day.”
Already humiliated so much, I of course protested, but was easily wrested to the ground. At least it was only a cleave gag but the way he applied it was so rough that I thought the sides of my lips would break. Rope circled my breasts, torso, waist and knees while my fingers were taped. “Just to be sure,” he commented. Another blindfold completed my “restrictions” yet again.
This was by far my most vulnerable and exposed position—if the patrols or other teams came by, it would be totally embarrassing but at least the scout’s torture would end. Five minutes later, I learnt the dread news, this would be where they would leave us. The “ooof” of Clarissa’s grunt was heard as the boys dumped her next to me and with an eerie laughter, they left me bound, gagged and only covered with a towel.
Clarissa immediately rolled over to me and my gag was easily yanked away. I returned her favour and she let out a stream of curses before we both continued to undo the knots. It was a long sweaty time before my wrists cam free and finally all the rope was cast away. That was the easy bit, the next part was finding our gear, which the boys had scattered in different parts of the foliage. Everything was there except that only one brassiere was left in each bag and our knickers were missing. “Those $$$#%%!” she screamed as we dressed. Even so there was no time to be embarrassed to be without underwear as we set off.
Finally, after seven more hours, we reached the finishing point, only to discover that we were third place, a position that came with no prize. Our torturers finally returned us our underwear and we swore not to tell about our experience while they deleted the video of Clarissa’s actions—which after all got me into this mess.