The Binding of the Ramos Boys, Part 2

We were strung up by our wrists.

Stripped to our shorts

Hanging in our bonds.

I'm Ramon Ramos, 25, the oldest of the boys.

I turned my head as much as I could to see the others...

Strung up like me.....


My crossed wrists hanging from strands of rope from the ceiling beams.......

My elbows forced together and roped up.

My head pulled back.

A thick stick...

...on my throat, head tied to it, and the ends bound to my upper arms.

My legs tied up now from my thighs to my ankles.

My feet dangling a foot off the ground.

The sweat poured down our bodies.

Photographed for the ransom demands......

Motivation required....

"That back of yours......... some welts from the belt would add to the photos......"

There was nothing I could do.  I grit my teeth onto the rags on my mouth and braced for the pain.....

It quickly came.  Again and again.  The sweat sprayed from my head as my body moved like a pendulum from the lashings....

Until I could take it no more,  I SCREAM SO LOUD MY GAG DID NOT MUFFLE THE SOUND.....

And I saw the blood flowing down Ramon's back....

I wanted to kill the man whipping him......

But I was strung up like a side a beef....

And bid my time!