An army Land
Rover. This sequence of clips and the music behind the fast action
was like a parody of an old fashioned cinema newsreel. Two army
types (one was Charlie) hopped out of the cab, and a third appeared
in the back of the Land Rover. The camera was allowed into the back
of the vehicle to see two guys in combat gear with wrists lashed
to the roof supports. Each had a canvas sack over his head. Wrists
were released from the metal structure but remained bound. They
were hauled out of the jeep pretty roughly and, as their ankles
were also lashed together, they were dragged across the yard and
pushed against the horizontal metal hitching rail. Chunky realised
that their cammo combat gear was paint splattered, bright blue.
Paint Ball games, he thought ... and then he also noticed that Charlie's
army jacket had a splodge of yellow on one arm. Was this a game
where the losers really got worked over.
The two hooded
men were being deliberately roughed up and shouted at (although
there was no sound, only music). One of them made an effort to fight
back but got a punch in the stomach and fell to his knees. As the
other was held painfully against the rail, the one on his knees
was dragged to where two posts with a high cross bars stood in a
corner of the yard, and the rope attached to his wrists was thrown
over and hands hauled skywards until he was almost off the ground.
The other end was then very efficiently tied around the neck of
the struggling man, rendering him helpless and vulnerable. The guy
Chunky didn't recognise pulled a truncheon from his belt and jabbed
his prisoner hard enough to warn him to stop struggling. The prisoner
was breathing heavily as the camera closed in on the canvas hood
with the guy shouting in his ear.
Now attention
was turned to the guy pinned to the hitching rail. He was persuaded
to kneel and his bound wrists were tied to the rail about three
feet from the ground and then the hood was removed. It was the guy
from the self-bondage sequence. He was being asked something but
seemed reluctant to answer ... for which he received a back-hander
across the face. This was too rough for Chunky ... but he was in
no position to do anything but watch. The guy was being forced to
admit or agree - there was just drumming music ... that seemed to
be inside Chunky's head. Could he stand up to this sort of treatment?
Did he even want to try? No, he didn't. He wanted out.
The guy on his
knees was getting desperate as the verbal abuse continued ... and
then Chunky saw him nod agreement. He nodded Yes' ... Chunky didn't
know what he was agreeing to ... but it was not three nods. He wasn't
ending the game ... he was agreeing to do whatever was being demanded
of him. His hands were untied and the three cammo-clad men standing
close lifted him to his feet where he stood unsteadily, boots still
lashed close together. Slowly he began to remove his paint-stained
jacket. This was handed to Charlie and, after a hesitation and a
subtle threat from the truncheon, he began to remove his shirt and
sweat-stained tee shirt. As his head emerged from this, a look of
apprehension crossed his face and he was prepared to put up a struggle
but behind him an arm circled his neck pulling him back against
the waist-high bar ... and a strait-jacket was held up in front
of him. Although his arms were unbound the arm lock around his neck
and bound feet and pulled back against the bar it was not difficult
for two of the men to expertly manoeuvre him into the jacket ...
which looked like the real thing to A.J although he'd never actually
seen one. The coarse canvas and leather straps looked the way he
imagined a military prison restraint should look and he was sure
that once in it you stayed in it until you were let out. Houdini
stuff'. This was like an old dream come to serious reality. Roughly
the two sleeves were crossed in front while the back of the jacket
was being efficiently strapped by the third man. Soon the victim'
stood totally trussed and a long end of a jacket strap was cinched
around the horizontal bar ... so the three men were now free to
turn their attention back to the other man, strung up in his hooded
and stressful position.
The three gathered
around him but left room for the camera to record the action. The
guy with the truncheon was talking into the captives' ear - and
a firm shake of the head told the story - he would not submit. Chunky
expected more beating or other violence ... but the three men just
smiled among themselves and two stood back as Charlie dropped the
cammo jacket over the captive's head and closed it tightly around
the neck, just holding it there shutting out any air supply. It
was not long before the roped figure began to writhe and buck. Rope
was produced and quickly wrapped around the already bound feet and
two men held the ends. Chunky knew this would not be a long struggle,
but he was breathless before Charlie released the struggling mans'
head. More talking into his ear - and yet again the hooded figure
refused to submit. The guy with the truncheon stepped forward but
Charlie warned him off, and with a smile suggested something else.
The two men disappeared from shot as Charlie continued to talk into
the hooded ear. A fist emphasised whatever point he was making by
dragging the canvas hood backwards and forwards. Next strong fingers
claw-like found the jaw under the rough hood and squeezed, which
Chunky knew must have been extremely painful. Next Charlie turned
his attention to the front of the jacket of the helpless squaddie'
and roughly pulled it open and then, more carefully, opened the
khaki shirt down the front to expose a heaving chest.
The two returned
and Chunky sat mesmerised as two buckets of water were flung without
warning at the unsuspecting man. He stood, hooded, arms raised and
neck stretched, feet tethered - running with cold water. The breathing
was intense because the canvas hood was now wet - and he was unable
to lower his arms and relieve the strain. Now Charlie ripped the
tee shirt down the front and the pants were suddenly down around
the bound ankles and the heaving chest and soaking thighs were naked.
The cock was limp Chunky noted; this guy was seriously not enjoying
this ... but Chunky also realised in his own mind ... that the game
he was watching was, however extreme, by mutual consent.
The fire-fighter
arrived at this unbelievable thought: these guys had agreed to this
no holds barred scenario. He knew there would be no serious complaints
or recriminations when the game was over ... and it looked to him
as if it was going to get even heavier before it ended. The trio
were now ignoring the part stripped and sagging strung up figure
and were escorting his strait-jacketed comrade away to the cell
block. Charlie hesitated and came back to collect the two buckets,
obviously informing his captive that he would be returning with
more water ... and much much more. Chunky watched the strung up
by the neck and wrists figure who knew he was now alone (except
for the cameraman) ... and braced himself to withstand and resist
whatever would come next.
END
OF EXCERPT 'Army games' (11).
Chunky soon finds himself in the hands
of other members of the 'team'. BAGGED
(12)