Bad Luck

"WE GOTTA GET OUT OF HERE!"

Stu kept grunting behind his gag.  Bound, hand and foot, gagged and blindfolded by layers of duct tape, the 22 year old knew he could not free his hands from behind his back.  The rope his kidnapper used for strong and rough...

...and was tied as tight as they could around his crossed wrists.  Stu hoped to find one of his buddies, Paulo or Josh.  "If I could get to them maybe we could untie our hands," he figured.  He squirmed and jerked his body around, following the grunting sounds of someone.  Finally they touched.  They got back to back and their fingers, numb as they were, clawed at the knots binding their wrists.  Stu felt the rope give way.  He pulled his hands from their bounds, and pulled the tape off his eyes and mouth.  "You OK Josh?"    Josh nodded as Stu got his feet free and began to untie his friend.  "Let me get to Paulo," he said, rubbing his wrists, chaffed as they were from rope burn.  He got Paulo untied.

"We gotta get outta here," John whispered.  "If they find out we got free they might kill us."  The three friends went to the door, looked around.  Nobody seemed near.

They saw the woods and made a run for it, their hearts pounding within their chests.

"We fucking need good luck," Stu thought as they stopped and listened if anybody was following them.

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DARKNESS

We lost all sense of direction. It was getting dark.  We were exhausted.  We had no food or water for almost 24 hours since our abduction.  My gut still hurt from being beaten up and knocked out after they tied me up.  We needed rest.  We huddled together in the dark.  It was cold.  I was shivering.  We finally fell into a terrified sleep.

"How long will our luck last?" I thought as I drifted off.

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BAD LUCK

The shots fired hit a few feet from where we were.  We jumped from our sleep.

"You fucking boys caused us a lot of trouble."

They found us.  Our luck had ran out.

Again our hands were tied and our mouths gagged.

We were on our feet.     Taking a long rope they tied our necks together.  

"You boys like to play Houdini?  Well I am going to tie you guys up POW style, and this time you are not going to escape until we get the ransom.  Now move your fucking asses and follow my buddy here.  And try me...  I will blow your fucking legs off and leave you to rot here."

We walked at a good clip.  "Fucking Bad Luck."  I thought and wondered how this guy ties up prisoners of war."

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ROPED

They finished roping me.  I could not move much, if I did I would choke.

POW style

They stripped us to the waist and bound our feet.  Then they grabbed me for the roping.

I was put on my knees.  One of them, behind me put rope around my elbows.  The other pressed his boot into my chest.  Now the one behind me put his knee in my spine and yanked the ropes until my arms squashed together.  Everything turned black for a second, I was screaming as my chest crushed in and then out.  I fell on my face, withering in pain.   They pulled my arms up, and as one held me down with a foot in my back, they other tied up my forearms.  My breathing was shallow.  Sweat poured off of me.

They put some old metal rod across my back and dropped my upper arms on top of it.  They began tying my upper arms to this rod.  The rod protruded about a foot from my body.  I knew at one that I could not turn around.  I would be totally immobile.  They pulled hard, again with a foot this time on my forearms.  The rope dug deep into my muscles.  They tied it off by circling it between the steel and my flesh.  It was a tourniquet.   The blood stopped flowing to my arms.  The thought of gangrene hit my stomach like a gut punch.  Grabbed by my hair, they pulled me to me feet.  They roped around my waist and hands, my gut and elbows, and my chest, above and below the rod.  My arms were pinned.  No way I could move them.

They pushed me back onto my belly.  Now they tied my knees and thighs.  Grabbing me again by the hair, they roped around my neck, and tied my bent head back to the rod between my arms.  Then they bent my legs and hogtied them to the same rod.

They finished.  They looked down at their work.  The sweat poured off of them.  They took the tape and rounded my eyes to blindfold me.

I lay there still.  I was at the choking point.  My legs were cramping.  I tried to move them,  They rod shifted down and the rope around my neck got tighter.  I pushed my legs back.  

"Fuck, If I move I choke."

I listened at they tied up my friends.  Soon the three of us were in this impossible hogtie.

"We will latter punish one of you for your escape.  This should teach the others not to try anything."

"Try anything?  There was nothing we could try?  Punish one of us?  Which one?  How?

My body got cold.  I was shivering.  Fear and Terror were controlling me.

And I could not do a fucking thing about it!

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FUCK, It's ME!

Stu heard the door open.  He stiffened.  Hands were touching him.  "Fuck, it's me," he thought.  He felt them cut the rope from his neck.  "Don't want you to die boy, just suffer."  Stu had prepared himself that it could be him.  The hogtie was cut and his legs pushed back.  He was surprised at how much pain getting out of the hogtie caused.    They grabbed him by his feet and dragged him across the floor.  Somebody was tying rope between his bound ankles.  "They're going to string me up." he realized.

Stu felt his legs pull up.

He could not fight it.

His back bent.

His neck bent.

Then he was up, swinging in the air, strung up to the ceiling of their prison.

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"NO WAY TO HELP OUR FRIEND"

They pulled the tape off of me and Josh's eyes.  I could see Stu, strung up by his ankles.

The sweat was pouring off of him, dripping onto the dirt below him.  He was swing in the air, back and forth, like the pendulum of a clock.

"You boys ever see Rambo, when they cut Sylvester Stallone's chest?

I did.

  

But that was the movies.  This is real.

Stu was swinging.

One grabbed the knife.

As the bound man swung by he slashed with the knife.

Stu jerked.

"Fuck.  There is no way to help my friend."

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TORTURE

I felt the cut across my chest.

"God, this can't be happening to me."

Again a cut, this time from the other direction.

Stu felt blood dripping onto his face.  

"The're cutting me up.  I'm going die."

Again Stu felt a third slice across his body, this time across his abs.

He pushed his tongue through his gag and was screaming.

"STOP THIS STOP THIS."

"You body going to escape again?"

"No. No. Just stop this."

Paulo and Josh watched them lower Stu down.  He landed on his back.  The rod was crushing his arms.  He moaned in pain.  They grabbed him and pushed him onto his gut.  The dirt of the floor caked his wounds, making them burn.  He screams were cut off by a new gag, his neck tied back, and his legs hogtied.

They taped up Paulo and Josh's eyes.

"Got the ransom, die you fucks."

They were left.

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"DO I HAVE THE GUTS TO DO IT?"

I was totally alone.

I no longer heard the others sounds of pain.

I no longer heard mine.

I had no arms.

I had no legs.

I had no eyes.

I hand no mouth.

I had no hands.

I had no feeling.

I thought of a lot of things.

Alone.

"Do I have the guts to do it?

One, final push of my bound legs would tighten the rope so tight around my neck that I would choke to death.

"Better then waiting to slowly die of hunger and thirst."

"Do I have the guys to do it?"

Josh was surprised.  He was weeping loudly.

Fuck.

"I don't."

Josh lay there.  He became aware of his friends.  Moaning.

Josh wept loudly like a small frightened child.

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GOOD LUCK!

The Ryan brothers were playing paintball in the woods.  Josh against Willy and Ted.

Jake, the oldest at 18, plotted his ambush.   

He saw an old smoke house.

"I'll wait inside, and if they look for me  I'll get them first.  Then I'll tie them up and leave them there to squirm to escape."

Jake moved stealthly and got inside.  He did not want to let his brother's see him.

He waited at the door when he heard some noise.  A deep low moan.

He got scared.  "Animal."  He turned and pointed his paintball gun at the back of the smokehouse.

"OMG!  What the fuck?"

There were three men tied up like he could not believe.

He went to one and pulled the tape off his face.

Stu could barely open his eyes.

"Help me," he spoke in a low, croaking voice.

Stu was shaking.  Jake pulled out a pen knife and started to cut the man free. Stu's arms were on fire as the blood started to flow.  Jake helped him up.  He saw his chest.  "Who tortured you like this," he asked.  Stu could not speak.  He went into a fetal position and began to rock and moan.  By now his brothers found him.    Jake kept stroking Stu's body as he rocked, now weeping loudly.  He brothers untied John and Paulo.

They got on the cell and called for help, sending their GPS signal.

Stu opened his eyes and looked at Jake.

"Thank you," he whispered.  He put his head up and kissed him.

Jake shot his load. He kept stroking Stu.  He loved this guy.  And he wanted to tie him up someday!

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EPILOGUE

"I'm ready Stu.  I can take it," Jake said.  "Tie me up POW style."

"Sure Jake, I'll tie you up just like I was."

Stu was now 23 and Jake 19.  Their ages made no difference, the two were lovers.  Jake stayed with his friend as much as he could through the months of rehabilitation and psychotherapy.  

"But there is one condition.   I need to face it again.  Saturday we go back to the smoke house and you tie and torture me."

'Sure man,"  Jake answered.

He turned around.  

Stu grabbed the rope and began to bind his lover.