## The Four Amigos

Post by testar » Sun May 21, 2017 6:21 pm

Part 1 ...... It was supposed to be just a game!
This is a time in my life when I learned a valuable lesson about friendship. I learned that it is important to choose your friends carefully but, also, that adversity develops friendships in extraordinary ways.
My name is Scott and I was 16 in the 1980’s when this event happened. My two friends were Matt, also 16, and Peter, who was 15 but looked like a young 13 year old. We were such close friends that we did everything together, dressed alike, loved the same music and movies, had the same hairstyles and had similar grades at school due to the fact that we studied together every week.
We wore our hair 70’s style, i.e. it was long (shoulder length) and straight and we took great pride in keeping it well combed and neat. My hair was dirty blond, Matt’s was jet black and Peter’s was the complete opposite – almost pure white. When our ordeal was over, we very much regretted wearing our hair long.
There was also another friend who made up what we used to term ‘the four amigos’. Greg was the fourth member but, six months before this event happened, his family was transferred to another town. He was replaced in our little group by Ricky, who became very friendly with Peter, although I had some reservations about him and I’m sure Matt did too. In any case, if Peter said Ricky was OK that was good enough for Matt and me as we all trusted each other’s judgement.
The other difference with Ricky was that his dark brown hair was longish but not nearly as long as ours.
Every weekend on either Friday or Saturday, and sometimes both days, the four of us met at one of our homes for a good night’s entertainment. That comprised of either watching movies, playing video games or card games and, of course, tie-up games.
We observed strict rules in our tie-up games, to make sure that no-one got hurt in these games. The one who had the honor of doing the tying was the winner of the card game or video game. However, if one of us got loose from the tie-up, they could do the tying for the next two weeks.
Only ropes and duct tape were used, but it was not the heavy duty tape but shiny tape which was very sticky but didn’t hurt when removed from the skin or the hair.
We were tied in every way imaginable – to chairs, spreadeagled on beds, just hands and feet, hogtied, hands in front tied to knees, etc. Blindfolds were usually a strip of tape across the eyes but gags were rarely used as we liked to talk to each other whilst tied and there was also tickle torture where the laughter was long and loud. If anyone was talking too much, or if one of us felt a bit mischievous, cloth gags were employed, though they were not very effective.
Because we were never tied too tightly, one of us usually escaped the ties in ten or twenty minutes, though there was a strict rule that the tie-ups lasted no more than an hour.
I was probably the best at tying and Matt was the best at escaping, Peter was OK at both, whilst our new pal Ricky had no idea how to tie anyone and couldn’t escape from a wet paper bag.
Even though we were very close friends, we came from very different backgrounds. Matt and I were very much middle class, our parents were reasonably well off and we lived in comfortable suburban homes. We went to Ricky’s house only two or three times and it was obvious that his family was at the lower end of the wealth scale. On the other hand, Peter was an only child of a very wealthy man – Andrew Barker - (his mother died several years back) who would have been in the millionaire or even billionaire class. Peter and his dad lived in a mansion and they even had a manservant (Phillip) who chauffeured him to our homes and collected him late at night. As his father often worked away for weeks on end, Peter was taken care of by Phillip though he was given the weekend off once a month. These were the weekends that we met at Peter’s house.
Because of his extreme wealth, Peter’s dad was a bit paranoid that his son might be snatched for ransom and Peter shared his fears. Each of us – Matt, Ricky and I – was given a secret code to be punched into the mansion’s gates before we could enter. There were also several silent alarms in various parts of the house that could be triggered if Peter felt threatened in any way. Despite all his fears, Peter’s dad felt secure in the knowledge that his son would be safe in the company of his three closest friends.
How wrong he would be!!
This particular Friday night Phillip had the weekend off, so it was just the four of us – Peter, Matt, Ricky and myself - who had the full run of Peter’s house to do what we wanted. Our plans involved our usual card games and movies on the Friday, horseback riding on Peter’s father’s estate on the Saturday and a day of swimming in the pool on Sunday.
What a weekend we had in store, although it was to take a sinister turn very quickly!
There was no carryover winner for our tie-up games, so the winner of the card games got to do the honours this week. Matt and I were the best at cards so Pete and Rick often spent Friday nights tied up.
However, this night, Ricky won several hands of poker although I thought I spied him picking up the wrong card or, somehow, have a card ‘up his sleeve’. Not wanting to accuse him of outright cheating, I let the matter pass. In any event, it wouldn’t hurt to let him win the occasional card game, would it?
After the best of three poker games, Ricky did indeed come out the winner.
In his usual cocky manner Ricky blurted out “Ha ha, beat you senseless! My turn now to tie youse up.”
“Got something special for you this time, so no yapping ‘till you’re all done.”
That was one of our rules – if anyone spoke while being tied up, the tie-er had the option of gagging him for the entire session. Peter sometimes complained about the ropes being too tight so he was cleave gagged every now and then. However, we all learned our lessons very quickly, so we usually abided by the ‘no talking’ rule.
“Righto guys, everyone has to kneel on the floor with hands behind backs, palms together. First, get a strip of tape and put it over your eyes. No peeking!!”
Ricky was obviously enjoying this!
I knelt down with Peter on my right and Matt on my left. We each taped our eyes as instructed.
Peter was the first to get tied but instead of the ripping of duct tape or the soft pull of rope against skin, I heard a sort of grinding/ripping sound not once but twice. Pete moaned softly as he was being bound but wisely kept his comments under his breath.
Ricky moved onto me next as it took him only 20 or 30 seconds to secure Pete. How did he do it so quickly?
I felt my wrists encircled by a strip of hard plastic that was immediately tightened, accompanied by that grinding sound I heard earlier. My ankles received the same treatment, with the plastic almost cutting into my skin. I couldn’t separate my hands or feet one inch but what had Ricky done to me?
It wasn’t until Matt had been bound in the same way that I came to the realisation that the three of us had been trussed up with zip-ties! I had never experienced them before but it very soon dawned on me that they were virtually inescapable. The only way we were going to get them off was when Ricky cut them off.
“OK, one more thing to do – a good ole hogtie. Sorry fellas.” There was sincerity in Ricky’s voice that I found a little disturbing.
We were all pushed to the floor and I was the first to receive the hogtie treatment. Rope was passed between my ankles and my wrists and pulled tightly so that my hands and my feet met. The rope had half a dozen turns and was knotted off after each turn. The hogtie was almost vicious in it’s execution and was rather painful but I kept my mouth closed for fear of it receiving a gag.
The tape over my eyes was not firmly stuck so I could see Matt and Peter being hogtied in the same manner as myself, but neither complained openly, though Pete moaned a few times.
We’re all going to be in for a few very uncomfortable hours I thought but, how uncomfortable, I had no idea.
Ricky disappeared into the next room where he made a call on his cell phone. I heard only fragments of his conversation but the little I heard chilled me to the bone.
‘Your packages are ready.’
‘I’ll let you in.’
‘…. no trouble.’
‘Do I have to? All right then.’
‘See you soon.’

### Re: The Four Amigos

Post by xtc » Mon May 22, 2017 2:57 am

An intriguing start. Thanks for posting, we need more stories!
Boxer shorts are cool,
but little speedos rule!
More by the same author: viewtopic.php?f=5&t=22729

### Re: The Four Amigos

Post by mikeybound » Mon May 22, 2017 4:20 pm

Wow, I wonder if that "do I have to" is about chloroforming them?

### Re: The Four Amigos

Post by testar » Wed May 24, 2017 1:13 am

Part 2 ...... Ricky is no friend of mine
Matt was the first to speak when Ricky returned to the room. “What the hell’s going on Rick? Who were you speaking to just then?”
Matt’s questions were cut short by a cloth gag pulled between his teeth and tied off behind his head. He was still trying to protest but his words were largely unintelligible.
Peter was similarly gagged with the cloth pinning his long blond hair to his neck.
I also started to complain: “Ricky, why are you doing this? This isn’t part of the ga…” A thick cloth which appeared to be double knotted was forced between my teeth and tied off over my hair at the back, effectively silencing me.
This certainly wasn’t our normal tie-up game. What was Ricky planning and just who was he speaking to on the phone?
Surely that wasn’t a kidnapping by Ricky, was it??
I tried in vain to escape my bonds so I could confront Ricky but the zip-ties weren’t loosening and the hogtie rope was firmly tied. My struggles also seemed to tighten the zip-ties a couple of notches and now they were really painful.
Matt was by far the strongest of us all but even he was having little success in getting loose. Peter was also trying his best but his whimpering told me he was stuck fast too.
All we could do was to wait to see what our ‘friend’ Ricky had in store for us.
There was little noise for the next half hour or so except for the futile struggles the three of us put up in our endeavours to free ourselves of the zip-ties and ropes. Even Ricky said not a word, though I couldn’t help thinking what was going through his mind and, indeed, why were we tied as we were.
The silence was broken by the sound of a buzzer in the room which indicated that someone wanted entry into Mr Barker’s estate. No-one could enter the grounds without first buzzing the entrance gate and announcing who they were.
A gruff voice came over the intercom “We’re here, kid. Let us in.”
Ricky replied in a stuttering tone “I-I’ll flick the switch. Ah, you know where to go. Drive round to the side door and I’ll let you in.”
I heard Ricky run out of the room and down the stairs.
What has our friend done?? Surely he hasn’t arranged for us to be kidnapped!
It was appearing more and more likely that he had.
A few more minutes passed when I heard multiple heavy footsteps climbing the stairs. Ricky’s ‘guests’ had arrived!
I had attempted to scrape the tape away from my eyes but had managed to remove only a very small portion which allowed me just a fuzzy picture of what was in front of me. What I managed to see terrified me. With Ricky there were two men in dark clothing with dark masks or hoods over their heads, and they were carrying some bags or sacks.
“You’ve done well kid”, one of the men addressed Ricky, “Now where’s our prize booty?”
Without waiting for Ricky’s response, the man walked over to Peter, grabbed him by the shoulders and placed his hogtied form on his knees. Peter was visibly shaking.
“Ah, my little blondie. You’re gonna make us very rich or at least your old man is.”
That confirmed it for me. We were being kidnapped for ransom!
Whilst I was trying to fathom out what was going to happen to us, the other man was walking over to me and noticed that the tape over my eyes had slightly peeled away.
“Hey, this one can see. The tape’s not down right.” “You got any more of this tape kid?” he asked Ricky.
“Yeah, here” Ricky handed him an almost full roll of tape.
The second guy manhandled me onto my knees and pressed down on the tape already on my face. I then heard the rip of the duct tape from the roll and he pressed it over my taped eyes. My limited sight went from dark to pitch black!
To make matters worse, the tape was wound round my head three or four times but, not satisfied with that, the man continued to wind the tape over the cleave gag in my mouth. This time the tape encircled my head half a dozen times from just under my nose to under my chin. There was no way I could utter any sound whatsoever (I tried – with no success) and the strict winding of the tape made it a little difficult to breath.
I tried to stay as calm as I could in the circumstances, inhaling as much air as I could through my nose. Strangely, the first thought which came to my mind was that it was going to hurt like hell when the tape was ripped off my long hair.
The man who taped me up said to his partner “We better do these other two brats the same. We don’t want them to see a thing or make a peep.”
More ripping of the tape suggested that Matt and Peter were being blindfolded and gagged by tape similar to what I had been.
“Let’s leave these notes and get outta here quick.” One of the men rustled some bits of paper.
Ricky, in a slightly quavering voice, said “Put them on the card table. Pete’s Dad’ll be sure to see them there.”
“Now, you better punch me a few times and tie me up …. and make it look good.”
Ricky had obviously planned this carefully. Some friend he turned out to me.
“All right young fella, hands behind the back.” More ripping of tape as Ricky was being taped up – hands and then probably his feet.
“Unfortunately kid, there’s been a change of plans. You’re coming with us. Some more insurance, eh?”
Ricky sounded flabbergasted. “Hey, what … what d’ya mean? You promised! You promised!”
“You cant do this. I did it all …. mmph”
Ricky’s begging protests were cut short by more tape over his mouth, round his head and most probably over his eyes as well. Serves him right, I thought!
There were now four of us tied, gagged and blindfolded with no hope of escape and we were being kidnapped for ransom. Were the kidnappers asking for money just from Mr Barker or from my father and also Matt’s?
“Let’s bag these boys and scamper” said one of the men as I felt myself being lifted up bodily and placed in one of the sacks I had spied earlier.
I was then slung over the man’s shoulder like a sack of potatoes and carried downstairs and dumped into the waiting van. I landed on my stomach, temporarily knocking the wind out of me and then I was thumped by one of my mates in another sack.
After another couple of minutes two more sacked teenagers were deposited in the van, the doors were slammed shut and the van drove off, but to where?
My mind was now racing with a million thoughts about what could happen to us, what would happen, would the ransom be paid, etc., etc.
I had heard or read somewhere that, if you were to be kidnapped and taken to another location, you should try to listen to sounds around you so that your rescuers could possibly identify your movements and rescue you. However, when you’re bound, gagged and blindfolded so tightly that your whole body aches, and you’re also bundled up in a sack, your mind is concentrating on just that, i.e. tied up. All I know is that the van drove for what seemed forever (maybe an hour – I don’t really know). There were lots of noises initially (traffic?) and then very little (out in the country?) and finally the sound of the vehicle’s wheels on gravel. I was sort of relieved when we stopped.
The back doors of the van were opened and two of the sacks taken out. There was much movement, sounding a little like my bound mates were being untied. Those two were then taken away into a house – I heard doors open and shut.
It was my turn shortly (and my other friend!) to be taken out of the van. I was first taken out of the sack and was released from the hogtie – that felt good. The zip-tie around my ankles was cut, I was placed on my feet and then pushed and pulled into the house. With your eyesight blacked out, it was impossible to determine what I was walking on or where I was headed and I stumbled and almost fell several times. I ended up virtually being dragged down a flight of stairs into what I surmised was a basement.
“OK boys, here’s what goin’ down.” One of the men addressed the four frightened teenagers.
“You woulda guessed by now we’ve taken you in exchange for cash. We’ve left notes for the old men of the three of ya (thanks Ricky!) and when we get the money we’ll let ya go.”
“If we don’t get the cash well, then, …..you better just hope that we do.”
“Ya might be here for a few days so just be good little boys and there’ll be no problems. If ya don’t behave, any of ya, well ….all of ya will be punished.”
“Do ya savvy kids?”
There were a couple of ‘mmm’s’ until the man realised his mistake. “He he, sorry ‘bout that. Nod your heads if ya understand.”
I nodded my head.
“That’s good boys. I’m sure we’re gonna get on famously while you’re here. Right now, we’re gonna cut those ties from your hands and take you for a toilet break. You’ll be brought back and tied to the beds for the night. To show ya we mean business, that tape’s gonna stay on your heads for the night.”
The zip-tie was cut from my hands and I was grateful to get some movement into my arms and shoulders which, by now, were very stiff. Still blindfolded, I was directed to the toilet where I relieved myself.
When I was taken back to the room I was told to sit on a bed and my ankles were tied together with rope, then my wrists were also rope tied, palm-to-palm, in front of me. I was then laid on the bed, my feet were tied to one end of the bed and I was fully stretched as my hands were tied to the other end. As best as I could, I rolled onto my side and tried to make myself as comfortable as I could.
I knew there was absolutely no chance of getting myself untied, especially with the two kidnappers still in the room (I assumed), and I didn’t want to antagonise them by trying. Also, I tried not to concern myself too much about what could happen to the four us, as our destiny was simply in the hands of our kidnappers – and our parents.
Since we were brought into this house, my thoughts were just on my own predicament and well-being. Once I was settled, albeit fully stretched out, on the bed, my thoughts turned to my friends.
Peter, I am certain, would be absolutely terrified. For one thing, as Peter was 6 inches shorter than I was, he would be utterly stretched out on the bed, akin to being on one of those old-fashioned torture racks.
His father had often had talks with Peter about what he should do in the event that he was snatched. He was told in no uncertain terms that he must do exactly what the kidnappers tell him to do, and that any ransom would be paid.
Of course we, as a group, joked about how we would handle our kidnappers with a certain amount of bravado that Mr Barker would be horrified by. Matt always said that he would ‘punch their lights out’ while Peter would ‘kick them in the balls’. My solution was to use my karate to kick the guns out of their hands and then knock them out. Ricky (who didn’t have a great sense of humour), I remember, took the practical approach by saying that we should do as we were told. Maybe he knew something way back then?
Matt was always the strongest in body and in mind (he did karate and also judo at school) of the four of us but I was sure even he would be traumatised by the situation in which he found himself. Matt was my best friend and I just hoped he would get out of this in one piece.
Then there was Ricky, or should I say Judas. I didn’t have any sympathy for him for getting us all in this predicament. He has obviously planned this for a long time, but for what reason? Money?
I knew Ricky’s family was not especially wealthy, but they weren’t on skid row either. Maybe he was a little jealous of the Barker fortune and wanted a piece of it.
On further thinking, perhaps Ricky was as scared as the rest of us as he certainly didn’t expect to be kidnapped as well. His plan was to report the kidnapping to the police as a type of victim too, but then to be as free as a bird. Now, he was tied up and taped us like the rest of us but why had the two men taken him as well? They said ‘change of plans’, so what were their plans for Ricky. These would be questions he would now be asking.

### Re: The Four Amigos

Post by xtc » Wed May 24, 2017 2:55 am

Thanks for the quick follow-up.
Boxer shorts are cool,
but little speedos rule!
More by the same author: viewtopic.php?f=5&t=22729

### Re: The Four Amigos

Post by testar » Thu May 25, 2017 4:53 pm

Part 3 ...... The ransom is delayed
I slept in fits and starts that night, even being woken a couple of times by one of the men to check whether I was all right. I supposed they didn’t want any damaged goods, i.e. one of us dying on them!
I had no idea what time it was when I awoke finally as the tape blindfold gave me no sense of whether it was day or night. Assuming it was morning, we had all been tied, gagged and blindfolded for around 12 hours as it was just after 7.00 o’clock on Friday evening when we were taken.
It’s an eerie feeling when you wake up and, when all your faculties are operational, to discover that your sight and sound senses do not work, and that you also cant move your limbs as you’re all tied up. That feeling probably scared me more than anything else which had preceded, at least until my mind worked out what had happened.
Soon after I woke up, my hands and feet were untied from the bed posts but my wrists and ankles remained bound. I must have been the last to awake as one of the men said
“All right boys, here’s what gonna happen today.”
“We’ll get that tape off your heads soon and your legs’ll get untied so you can move around. But just remember, if any of ya do anything stupid, you’ll all pay for it.”
“Even if ya try anything, you’re in the basement of an out-of-the-way place behind locked doors with two guards lookin’ at ya.”
“Later on, we’ll get in touch with young Peter here’s old man and make arrangements for the cash. This’ll probably take a couple o’ days, so you’ve got our company ‘till then, eh?”
Before he had finished talking, my hands were grabbed by someone and untied, but were immediately forced behind my back and re-tied. This time my hands were crossed and tied with rope both horizontally and vertically almost a dozen times each way. The bondage was extremely tight, much more so than in any of our tie-up games. Again, there was no chance of escaping the ropes.
Then one of the men began to unwind the tape around my mouth and my eyes. He tore the tape off in quick bursts, causing me to yell into my gag as several strands of my long hair must have come off with the tape. The cloth gag, now soaked with saliva, that Ricky had gagged me with was then removed.
My eyes didn’t immediately focus, coming from 12 hours of blackness into the light and I had to move my aching jaw into some sort of working order. It was total relief to be able to see once again and be able to move my jaw. All of a sudden I felt very thirsty but didn’t feel brave enough to ask my kidnappers for a drink.
Glancing to my left, I saw that Matt, with hands bound behind him as I was, was having the tape painfully removed from his eyes and hair. He shook his head when the last strand of tape was removed. His long black mane of hair was soaked with sweat where the tape had encompassed it.
We exchanged a silent look of comfort with each other.
Poor little Petie was still gagged and blindfolded with tape and he looked a forlorn figure as one of the men started untying and then re-tying his hands behind his back. The removal of the tape must have been excruciating for Pete and his long blond hair had turned a lot darker where it had sweated under the tape. He, too, was eventually free of his gag and blindfold and it was obvious he had been crying under his blindfold as his face was extremely reddish around his eyes. I guess that, as Peter was the main target of the kidnappers, he was the most fearful of the outcome.
As Ricky had much shorter hair than us three, his tape removal didn’t cause him that much distress, though I would have voted for the tape to stay on his mouth at least. Not surprisingly, he averted the gaze of his three fellow captives but I was certain that he would have a few harsh words spoken to him.
Our captors then gave us all a drink of water, which was desperately needed after 10-12 hours of having our mouths taped up. With our hands still tied behind our backs, plastic drink bottles were put into our mouths, much like babies being given bottled milk. I gulped down almost the full bottle, spilling and dribbling some of the water all over myself.
As I was a growing boy I was also extremely hungry but there was no food offered and I didn’t think it was wise to be demanding anything because of the position we were in.
The men had donned the black hoods (possibly balaclavas) I had seen them wearing last night, so there was no chance of seeing any of their facial features. They also wore nondescript dark shirts and jeans so there would be little information to be given to our rescuers about our captors.
Rescuers – that was a long, long way off and hadn’t entered my mind until that stage.
I glanced around the room in which we were imprisoned and noticed that it was indeed a basement. The room had brick walls with no window and a set of wooden stairs leading to a higher level. At the top of the stairs was a solid wooden door which was padlocked on the inside. I guessed that, even if we all yelled at the top of our voices, no sounds would be heard outside the room.
There were four bunk beds, much like the beds at the last camp we had all attended, with wooden slats at either end. These were the beds we were tied to last night. Four solid oak chairs were next to the beds. Maybe we were going to spend some of our time tied in these chairs.
At the other end of the room was a wooden table, two more chairs and several large brown paper bags. I was to find out later that these contained the men’s’ food, cell phones and other paraphernalia. There was also a transistor radio and what looked like some type of scanner, maybe a way the kidnappers could monitor police broadcasts?
On the cement floor next to the table was a huge pile of coils and coils of rope of all sizes and lengths, seemingly hundreds of feet of ropes. There were also about two dozen rolls of duct tape!!
The men had certainly come prepared and we probably going to spend several days tied up or taped up.
Matt, Peter and I gathered together on three of the chairs to discuss our predicament, but perhaps more to commiserate with each other. Ricky, understandably, sat on the bed furtherest from us with his head on his lap. Sorry Rick, but no sympathy from me.
“Geez, I’m sorry for getting you guys into this. It’s me they were after – me and my Dad’s money.” Peter was genuinely remorseful for both me and Matt.
“Damn Pop’s money! I wish we were poor and all this wouldn’t happen.”
Peter was almost blubbering by now, unable to wipe away his tears as his hands were still bound behind him.
I tried as best I could to console him. “Come on Petie, it aint your fault – or your Dad’s. Remember one of the guys said they were asking for money from my Pop and also Matt’s. Maybe be glad it’s only money they want us for and not something worse.”
“You know your Dad’s good for the cash- he’s told us that before, if something like this did happen. When these guys have got the ransoms they’ll let us go, I’m certain. They’ve made sure we cant identify them or even where we are, so they’ve got no reason to hurt us.”
My words were directed to Peter, but they were also to try to reassure myself and there was simply no guarantee our captors would let us go even when they did receive the money.
Matt then chipped in with “Why the hell did Ricky do this to us? What’s in it for him? Money?”
“Whatever it was” Matt continued, “it backfired as they taken him too and he’s here with us.”
“I’m gonna get the truth out of that traitor, even if I have to beat it out of him.”
Matt was now furious and steaming, but obviously had forgotten that he, like all of us, had his hands still tied behind his back. Peter and I calmed him down and we sat and chatted about nothing in general for some time.
About half an hour passed when Matt, who had been silent for a little while, suddenly stood up and strode over to confront Ricky.
“All right, you bastard, why’d you do this to us? We were supposed to be friends – the four musketeers and all that crap. Some friend you are!”
Ricky recoiled from Matt’s verbal assault and was starting to mutter a reply when Matt lashed out with his foot, using a karate chop to Rick’s guts. Matt’s karate kicks kept raining on Ricky and he was sent sprawling across the room, gasping for breath.
This confrontation took the two men by surprise too, that is until one of men rushed over and clipped Matt on the head, sending him crashing heavily to the floor.
“What the f… are you doin’ kid? We warned ya, didn’t we? No playing up, no misbehaving or you’ll be punished. Ya liked being tied up do ya? Well, that’s one way of keeping you quiet.”
Matt was lifted onto a chair and the man grabbed a roll of tape and started winding around Matt’s mouth and head, even around his neck and finally it was wound around his eyes. The tape must have encircled Matt’s head a dozen times and the man wasn’t at all gentle in his actions. He was then laid on the floor, his legs were crossed and tied with numerous turns of rope. To complete his trussing up, Matt was then hogtied, leaving him with little movement.
Ricky, who was really the ‘innocent’ party in this fracas, was then ordered to lie on his stomach and he received similar treatment. His legs were tied criss-crossed and he was hogtied ankles to wrists. If Peter and I thought we would be spared, we were sadly mistaken as we were both tied with our legs crossed and then hogtied.
When we had all been tied up the second man said: “How about we blindfold them as well. That way we can take these damn hoods off.”
Uh oh, more duct tape I thought! Sure enough the rolls of tape were produced and Peter, Ricky and I were blindfolded by tape over our eyes and several wraps around our heads.
All of our hogties in our tie-up games had been relatively ineffectual as there was plenty of slack between our wrists and ankles and our hands and legs were not tied too tightly.
This was different! My wrists had earlier been tied criss-cross with several feet of rope tied vertically and horizontally and my ankles were tied (tightly, I might add) in the same manner. The hogtie ropes were so tight that I could touch the soles of my feet with my hands!
Tied up and hogtied in this way, there was no way I could roll over onto my side to take away some of the stress from the tight ropes. I was on my stomach and that was the way I was going to stay!
It must have been an hour or so before one of the men said to the other “OK, let’s get this thing rolling. Make the call to the kid’s old man. Ya got the script we worked out?”
A rustling of paper and the beeping of a cell phone as the number was punched in.
“Ah shit, I got a fuckin’ answering machine. The bastard’s not home.” “How can he not be home when he knows his kid’s been snatched?”
The sound of a cell phone being smashed against a wall meant the man was most unhappy.
It seemed the man approached Peter with some questions. The tape gag which had silenced him was temporarily removed.
“What’s the drill, kid? Where’s your old man? Why aint he home – don’t he love ya?”
Peter’s trembling voice explained, “Dad’s away for the weekend. He’s gone mountaineering or camping or something. He never takes his phone with him when he goes on these trips. He’ll be back home on Monday.”
With Mr Barker away, and his manservant Phillip having the weekend off, the kidnappers would be unable to contact anyone for a couple of days. No-one would know we had been kidnapped, at least for a couple more days!
“All right, just calm down. There’s no problem here. It just means our plans’ll be delayed for a few days.” The other man tried to placate his more excitable partner.
“Ya hear that, boys.” He was now addressing us. “You’ll have our company for a while longer than planned. Hope you don’t mind being tied up for two or three days. Ha ha!”
Our captors held an extended conversation in hushed tones, obviously re-evaluating their position and determining just what to do now that they discovered Mr Barker could not be contacted until Monday.
“Right boys” said the calmer man “We’ve got to go into town to get some more supplies. We gotta eat and I suppose you want something too. We’ll be a couple of hours, so we’ll make you a bit more comfy while we’re away.”

### Re: The Four Amigos

Post by xtc » Fri May 26, 2017 3:38 am

Good going.
Boxer shorts are cool,
but little speedos rule!
More by the same author: viewtopic.php?f=5&t=22729

### Re: The Four Amigos

Post by testar » Mon May 29, 2017 4:20 am

Part 4 ...... Saturday ends - still tied and gagged
My hogtie rope was untied and I was lifted onto a chair. My wrists and ankles were still bound criss-cross though the ropes around both were temporarily loosened and then re-tied even tighter than before. More ropes were tied around my chest and waist securing me firmly to the back of the chair and even more was bound over the top of my legs securing them to the seat of the chair.
Just when I thought the tying was completed, another rope was tied around my bound wrists and then to my ankles. The process was repeated a couple more times, effectively hogtying me to the chair! I could barely move a muscle!
The chair to which I was bound was dragged across the floor and tied to one of the beds.
My three companions apparently suffered the same fate as there were sounds of ropes being tied and chairs being dragged over the floor.
The man who had earlier made the phone call then said with an evil laugh. “Hey kiddos, we’ve got a little present for each of you. No-one’ll hear ya down here anyways, but we cant have ya chattin’ away between yourselves while we’re gone, now can we?” “Open up wide now, boys.”
What did he mean?
I heard some muffled, gurgling sounds from both Peter and Ricky as they were gagged, but I also heard what appeared to be a strap being tightened and buckled. What’s going on?
My question was quickly answered as a soft rubber ball was forcibly pushed into my mouth and leather straps were tightened around my head and fastened at the back. My long hair was caught in the buckle, causing some pain and little sound came from my mouth as the ball was now deep inside my mouth.
I had heard about these and seen pictures of them but had never had first hand experience of them. We were silenced by ballgags!
The ballgag at least allowed some breathing through the mouth, unlike the duct tape, but it soon made me dribble saliva from my mouth.
“Let’s leave the tape on our troublemaker here. It’ll last for a few more hours.” One of the men was obviously referring to Matt, who had earlier been gagged with duct tape.
When we had all been trussed up and gagged to the satisfaction of our captors, they went up the stairs, out of the room and locked the solid wooden door behind them.
We were alone for the first time since our capture and perhaps, just perhaps, a chance to escape. At least that’s what I initially thought and, it seems, my friends thought much the same. Almost immediately there were sounds of four young boys trying in any way possible to get themselves untied.
I struggled manfully, trying to find some weakness in my bonds. It was futile, as I soon discovered.
Every time I tried to twist my arms and hands in an attempt to loosen the ropes encircling my wrists, the hogtie rope connected to my ankles pulled on my legs, causing the rope around my ankles to become even tighter. The hogtie rope was extremely taut, leaving no slack to manoeuvre either my hands or my feet.
I was also firmly attached to the back and the seat of the chair and my struggles caused the ropes around my chest to press further into my flesh. I was well and truly stuck, with no hope of escape.
All my struggles did was to make me perspire profusely, resulting in rivers of sweat to run from my forehead, down my face and onto my shirt. My exertions produced a massive amount of saliva which poured out of my mouth over and under the ballgag and I felt positively yucky as a result.
The only positive thought I had was that the sweat would loosen the tape around my eyes and allow me to see my surroundings. No such luck as there were too many wraps of tape around my head and I couldn’t get any leverage from any object to remove it.
My long blond/brown hair was quite thick and usually hung straight down from the top of my head, parted on the left hand side. My hair would now be completely soaked by the perspiration from my struggles and would be totally dishevelled.
I tried every possible move I could think of to loosen my bonds and kept at it for around half an hour. If there was just some way I could get out of these damn ropes we could all walk out of here before our captors returned. When the realisation came that it was impossible to get loose, my head slumped forward in absolute defeat and utter exhaustion.
Much earlier, two of my friends either side of me had given up their efforts to escape. They started whimpering and sobbing behind their ballgags at the hopelessness of their situations. I guessed they would be Peter and Ricky.
One other, probably Matt, was still endeavouring to get rid of his ropes long after I had given up. Matt was the most muscular and strongest of all of us and was never a quitter. However, I knew even Matt could not escape and, eventually, even he became passive and silent.
All we could do is to sit in a cocoon like state in our chairs until the two men returned.
It seemed like two hours had passed (maybe it was only one?) when I heard a key in the door lock and the door rumble open.
Had our kidnappers returned?
A now familiar voice of the ‘calm’ man broke the silence with “Good to see ya still hanging round here kiddies. Ah, good also to see ya haven’t moved an inch.”
“One good thing the Army taught us was how to tie someone up so they cant get out.”
That explains a lot, I thought.
“Now that we’re gonna be spending a couple more days together, we gotta change our plans a little.”
“First thing is we’ll all have some food, so hope ya all like pizza.”
Pizza wasn’t my favourite food, but I was so hungry I could’ve eaten anything just then. I also badly wanted something to drink.
The man must have had second thoughts as he then said: “Maybe we better get you guys under a shower. You stink!”
“We’ll take the tape from your eyes and then take you one by one upstairs to the shower. No tricks, or you’ll remain tied up and there’ll be no food.”
One of the men unwound the duct tape from over my eyes. Surprisingly it came off rather easily and without taking too much of my hair with it. The stickiness of the tape must have been neutralized by the sweat from my struggles.
Having been blinded by the tape for some three to four hours, my eyes took a few moments to adjust to the dull light of the room. It was not a pretty sight that greeted me.
Matt, Peter, Ricky and I all looked like drowned rats, our hair all messed up and wet from perspiration. Our faces, chests and shirts were caked with sweat and saliva. The ballgags (and tape in Matt’s case) had held firm despite all our struggles.
Peter was the first to be released from his bonds. The ropes that bound him to the chair were untied, as was his hogtie rope and the bonds around his ankles. The ballgag was unbuckled, but his hands remained tied behind him as he was led by one of the men out of the room.
When he returned a short time later, Peter was dressed only in his boxers and his long blond hair, made much darker by the water, straggled over his shoulders. His hands were taped in front of him and he was carrying his Nike trainers and his wet shorts and shirt. Obviously it was washing time for the clothing as well.
Peter was directed to sit on a bed and his ankles were then tied with tape. He was given a Coke and a large pizza which he eagerly accepted.
Ricky was the next to be untied and he was also led upstairs to the shower.
In the meantime both Matt and I were still gagged, hogtied between our bound wrists and ankles and tied to the chair. We both made attempts to again loosen the ropes and made pleading looks and noises to the men to release us. All it did was to bring this response from one of the men, “Steady on, boys. You’re gonna have to wait your turn and until then just sit quietly like good little boys.”
I hated it when the men kept referring to us as ‘little boys’. Hell, we were almost men.
Still, in the situation we were in, we just had to accept our fate and our embarrassment and take the jibes the men were aiming at us. We weren’t going to get loose until they untied us anyway!
Ricky’s return was identical to Peter’s, i.e. in his boxers, hands taped, then given pizza and a Coke after his ankles were taped.
I grudgingly admired our kidnappers as they had obviously planned everything in fine detail and were leaving nothing to chance. We all had been tied up in some manner for virtually every second of our captivity and we were also ‘chaperoned’ by one of the men most times. As one of them had said, they were taught by the Army how to tie up people so those skills were well developed.
Just my luck – Matt was the third to be untied and showered so I was still stuck in the chair. I had long since given up on trying to dislodge the ballgag which, by now, oddly felt sort of comfortable in my mouth.
Peter and Ricky, now satisfied by their food and drink, were giving me some sorrowful looks which might have said ‘We’d love to untie you Scott but, sorry, we cant’. Little consolation guys.
Eventually – finally – on Matt’s return (hands taped, etc.) it was my turn to be rid of the ropes. The removal of the restrictive ropes around my chest allowed me a few deep breaths and the untying of the hogtie rope gave some relief to my arms and legs. When the ballgag popped out of my mouth I didn’t realise until that moment that my jaw ached something fierce. After my ankles were untied I was led by the arm by one captor up the stairs. With my hands still tied behind me, I staggered a little on my freed and weakened feet and had to be held upright by the man.
The bathroom was right at the top of the stairs so I had little opportunity to look around to see what the rest of the house looked like.
My hands were finally untied and I was told to strip, get into the shower and wash myself and my clothes. I obeyed without question, hiding my embarrassment at standing naked in front of a complete stranger.
The water was cold but it still felt great as it washed the grime from my body. I was permitted just a few minutes under the shower, then given a towel to dry myself.
Before I had stepped out of the shower alcove, the man produced a roll of duct tape and wrapped several layers around my wrists with my hands palm to palm. There were lots of rope burns on my wrists, and my ankles, but the tape felt strangely rather snug.
Back in the basement, I wolfed down my pizza and nearly choked on the Coke, so thirsty and hungry I was.
For a while we were permitted to speak so Peter, Matt and I chatted with each other whilst Ricky was left on the outer, just sitting on his bed looking quite forlorn. It must have looked rather comedic as three boys hopped around the room with legs taped together. We were still clothed in just our boxers whilst our other clothes were drying and our hair dried quite quickly. Long hair was flying in all directions as we hopped around like bunnies.
So that the men could take off their hoods (I presumed), each of us was eventually blindfolded with a cloth over our eyes tied at the back of our heads and then reinforced by two or three wraps of tape over the cloth. We still had our wrists and ankles taped but at least this tie-up position was relatively comfortable.
I guess we were perhaps fortunate our captors did not take advantage of our state of undress but I’d come to the realisation that there was nothing sexual about our capture. It was purely a business transaction.
The two men spent the time playing cards and watching a small TV in their little corner of the basement. They weren’t going to let us out of their sight.
Being confined in a windowless room and also being deprived of our sight by blindfolds for lengthy periods, it was hard to keep track of time or indeed to tell whether it was day or night. The TV programs that the men were watching gave me a clue that it was nearing nighttime. News bulletins that aired every so often made no mention of the kidnapping of four boys. Either Mr Barker had not returned from his trip and was not aware we had been snatched, or the authorities were keeping the news out of public view.
Around eight o’clock, one of the men suggested to the other that we should be ‘put to bed for the night’. This involved, for each of us, the tape being removed from our wrists and ankles and being replaced by ropes. My left wrist was tied to a top corner of the bed and my other wrist to the opposite corner and similarly with my ankles. I was tied spreadeagled on my back on the bed, still shirtless.
The cloth and tape blindfold remained in place but, fortunately, no gag as the excitable man explained, “I don’t think we need to gag you boys tonight but, remember, any mischief by any of you and we’ve got plenty of tape and cloths handy …… and the loverly ballgags too.” he gleefully added.
I presume my three buddies had received similar treatment, so I settled down as best I could, ready for a good night’s sleep.
That didn’t really eventuate as I’m not used to sleeping on my back and certainly not tied hand and foot. I woke up several times during the night and found it hard to get back to sleep, even as tired as I was. It’s a strange sensation when you wake up and try to stretch your arms and legs and quickly discover that they wont move. They’re stuck in that position – tied to the bed corners. Then, when you try to open your drowsy eyes to find out what the problem is, and everything’s still pitch black because you’re blindfolded, it’s a bit of a shock to the system.
I finally awoke fully around eight in the morning (I’m guessing) but the spreadeagle tie remained in place until mid-morning. The ropes on my wrists and ankles were as tight and firm as they were when I was bound about 12 hours ago. Geez, these guys were really good on their tying. The Army must have taught them well.

### Re: The Four Amigos

Post by squirrel » Mon May 29, 2017 5:00 am

Fantastic story!

### Re: The Four Amigos

Post by testar » Wed May 31, 2017 5:28 am

Part 5 ...... An explanation from Ricky
On this occasion I was the first to be untied and the blindfold was also removed. I was led to the bathroom at the top of the stairs to go to the toilet and to freshen up. I believe this was the very first time of our captivity that I was totally free of ropes, tape, gags and blindfolds.
Should I use my karate skills and lay into this man and then make a run for it? I really did contemplate this but then thought that the front door of the house was probably locked anyway. Even if I did manage to escape, my three friends would pay a heavy price for my actions. I couldn’t have that on my conscience, so I abandoned any thought of escape and did what I was told.
Back in the basement I was allowed to put on my shirt and shorts and was then subjected to another way of being tied up. The men seemed to delight in trying different tying up techniques on us unfortunate victims.
My arms were yanked behind me, bent at the elbows, my forearms placed horizontally alongside each other with my left hand clasping my right elbow and my right hand on my left elbow. In that position, my wrists, forearms and elbows were encircled with six or eight feet of rope, double knotted on every second or third turn. Not that I was going to get free of those bindings, the man then wound layer after layer of duct tape over the ropes, virtually mummifying every inch of skin of my arms from my fingertips to my elbows.
My legs were next although they weren’t trussed up nearly so severely. Plenty of rope was wrapped around each ankle separately and then knotted in the middle so that there was about six inches between each foot. I had effectively been placed in rope handcuffs on my legs! The ropes would allow me to walk around, but very slowly and only in a shuffling motion. In other words, there was no chance of running away if escape was still on my mind. It wasn’t!
Ricky, then Matt and then Peter were all trussed up in the same manner as was I. Apparently we were to spend the entire day in this position. There were no gags or blindfolds to further restrict us, at that point in time anyway. The men took turns individually at minding us, with the one in the basement still wearing his hood. The other presumably went outside for a breath of fresh air.
I still had plenty of questions about our abduction, such as:
‘Why did the men continue to wear their hoods whilst in our presence?’
‘Did we know these men? Is that why they disguised their appearance?’
‘If we saw their faces we could identify them later, or they would have to kill us to stop the identification. The fact that their faces were hooded meant that this may not happen.’
‘What about Ricky? Surely he knew them and could identify them. Were they going to kill him? If they were, why hadn’t they done it already?’
‘Still with Ricky, what was his motivation to turning on us and helping to get us kidnapped?’
Questions, questions, questions.
I posed some of these to my friends and we agreed that our lives were probably (hopefully) not in danger. They would have disposed of us straight away if they were going to kill us.
Then again, maybe we were bring kept alive only until the time that Mr Barker could be contacted!
Twice during Sunday, the kidnappers tried to contact Peter’s Dad but, on each occasion, all they reached was his answering service.
When they made the phone calls, we were each ballgagged (they even had one for Matt this time – the first time he had been ballgagged and he really didn’t like it!) and, with our arms tied and taped behind us, we had no option but to accept the gags.
Around the middle of the day, Peter shuffled over to talk to Ricky. I guess he also had plenty of questions about his friend’s involvement in the kidnapping.
After a short conversation both of them made quick little steps on their rope-cuffed feet to Matt and me. Peter broke the news to us: “Hey guys, we can forgive Ricky and stop all those horrid thoughts we had about him.”
“Tell ‘em Rick” he motioned to his friend.
Ricky was in a teary state but he blurted out between sobs “I know you guys hate me now and I don’t blame you. I’m really, really sorry ‘bout what’s happened. I didn’t know all of this was going to go down.” “They told me they’d take you for a few hours, get some money from Mr Barker and then let you go.”
Tears were pouring down Ricky’s cheeks now but Matt wasn’t impressed.
“OK, you little c…., you can stop those crocodile tears right now. I aint buying it.”
“You sold out your friends. Why the hell did you do that?”
Peter quickly interrupted Matt, “Come on Matty, give him a break, he’s got problems at home. His Dad’s just lost his job and his Mom has got to have an operation but it may have to be postponed because they’re short of money.”
Ricky was really blubbering now so Peter continued with his explanation. “These guys had been casing my home – watching all of us – for some time. They were waiting for some weeks, hoping to grab the three of us (he meant himself, Matt and me) but couldn’t because of the security measures we have. They knew Rick’s Pop had been laid off and they thought Rick might be a soft target, to help them get to us three. They offered Rick $20,000 to get them access to my home to that they could snatch us from there.”
Ricky kept nodding furiously as Peter spoke. “Mom might die if she doesn’t have this operation soon.” he blurted out between sobs. “We had to get some money from somewhere and this was too good to turn down. They said it was going to be over in a few hours.”
“I’m so stupid. I’m so, so sorry.” The tears started again.
I was dumbfounded. I stood there open-mouthed, quite disbelieving all that I had heard.
“Hell, Rick, why didn’t you tell us what was going on with you? I’m sure our parents would’ve chipped in to help your Mom with her op.”
Peter added, “Yeah, right, Scott. Geez, twenty thousand bucks is chicken feed for Dad. He’d cough that up, no worries.”
“When we get out of this, that’s the first thing I’ll arrange – the money for your parents I mean.”
That explanation certainly cleared up a number of queries I had about Ricky’s involvement and it even satisfied Matt. I wished I could give Ricky a great bear hug, but how can you hug someone with your arms tied and taped behind you!
However, Matt still had one question, one which was quite valid.
“Who are these men Rick? You must know them or you must have seen them?”
Ricky had calmed down by now and was able to answer, “No, I don’t know who they are.”
“One night when I was leaving Pete’s place, someone grabbed me from behind when I was walking through the park. There were two of them – one put his gloved hand over my mouth and my eyes and the other one grabbed my arms and they dragged me into the bushes.”
“I was told to keep quiet and a bag was put over my head, so I couldn’t see a thing. They told me they knew my folks needed some money and asked if we could do with $20,000. Of course I was interested and asked what they wanted me to do.”
“When they said they wanted me to help get into the Barkers and they were going to kidnap Peter and also Scott and Matt and get some money from their families. I said ‘no’ straight off and told them I’d go to the cops and tell them of their plans.”
“They then threatened me and I felt the blade of a knife against my throat. They also said that my Mom might just end up a widow if I didn’t help them.”
“I was really scared then and didn’t know what to do.”
“The men then got my cell phone number and told me to think about it and that they would contact me by phone soon. They then tied my hands and feet with rope, tighter than I’ve ever been tied, gagged me with a cloth and left the bag over my head.”
I wasn’t found until about three hours later by someone walking in the park. I told them I was tied up by one of my mates as a prank as I was afraid to get the cops involved.”
“This all happened about two months ago.”
“The men rang me a couple of times before I finally agreed to help them. My Mom was getting worse and worse and I thought this was the only way I could help her.”
“Last week I went out and bought the zip-ties. This was the only way you guys wouldn’t get loose as you know I cant tie anyone up properly. I got lucky when I won those card games, then I rang the men and arranged for them to get in the gates.”
“What was supposed to happen was that the men were going to rough me up a bit and leave me bound and gagged, and take you three guys. I was going to tell Mr Barker that you’d been kidnapped and he’d be contacted about a ransom. I was then supposed to be given the $20,000 at a meeting in the park a couple of days later.”
“How could I have been so stupid? They conned me all the way, didn’t they?”
Ricky’s detailed explanation made sense and I guess his naivety was outweighed by the desire to help his mother. What still wasn’t clear was why the men had also snatched Ricky as well, as they hadn’t asked for a ransom for him. Maybe it was for a sinister motive?
Apart from Ricky’s revelations, the remainder of Sunday was relatively uneventful.
For lunch we were each given stale bread rolls with some kind of spread on them – peanut butter or cheese, I really don’t know. We were given fruit juice to drink, which we drank through straws.
Have you ever tried to eat anything with your hands tied behind your back? It isn’t easy and it’s quite messy.
For dinner it was warmed up pizza and fruit juice, but I was still as hungry as hell after our meal.
We were allowed to go to the toilet before being put to bed for the night.
I hadn’t been put to bed since my parents did it when I was a little kid. Still, these guys were in total charge and we had no choice but to obey.
Our sleeping position was the same as the previous night, that is we were each tied with rope spreadeagled to the four corners of our beds and were blindfolded with cloth and then tape.
The following day (Monday) the men tried again, at around eight in the morning, to contact Mr Barker.
This time they were successful, though I heard very little of the conversation.
The men seemed satisfied with the outcome and had apparently arranged to collect the ransom for our return later that night.
I knew Mr Barker would be able to get his hands at short notice on whatever ransom was demanded for the return of Peter. I wasn’t so sure about my parents and Matt’s parents as to whether they had access to ready cash or not.
A short time after the phone call, one of the men approached us with an update on our situation.
“Good news, boys.”
“We’re gonna collect our money later tonight, then that’s the last you’ll ever see of us. Hope you’ve enjoyed your little stay with us.”
The news seemed to terrify Peter however, and he queried in a slightly trembling voice.
“What is going to happen to us? You’re not going to hurt us, are you mister?”
“Oh don’t worry kid.” was the reassuring answer. “We said all along that no harm’ll come to you boys. We just want cash in exchange for you.”
“Where are you taking us?” Peter continued.
“Oh, we aint takin’ ya anywhere kid.” said the excitable man “You’re stayin’ right here, boyo. Well, three of ya anyway.”
“Wha- what” Peter stammered “What do you mean just three? What’s going to happen to the fourth?”
Peter’s protestations and my jumbled thoughts were cut short by the calmer man, obviously the one in control, with “No more questions now. Everything will be much clearer later today.”

### Re: The Four Amigos

Post by xtc » Wed May 31, 2017 5:56 am

Thanks for the continuation.
Boxer shorts are cool,
but little speedos rule!
More by the same author: viewtopic.php?f=5&t=22729

### Re: The Four Amigos

Post by alex967 » Wed May 31, 2017 6:40 pm

Nice story!

### Re: The Four Amigos

Post by testar » Fri Jun 02, 2017 7:22 pm

Part 6 ...... Would the kidnappers keep their word?
The usual procedure for the day then followed.
We were allowed to go to the toilet, had something to eat and drink and then tied up for the day.
Today we had our hands tied palm to palm behind our backs with rope. Probably about six feet of rope was used, which meant that our wrists were encircled about ten times. Then rope was also tied between our wrists, in other words ‘cinched’, and the rope was double knotted every couple of turns. Our hands could not move after this binding, so no escape.
Our legs were similarly tied, but at least we were able to hop around the room on our bound feet.
The men obviously did want us talking with each other, so we were securely gagged. The gag consisted of a two or three feet long piece of cloth which was double knotted in the middle. The knot was pushed deep into our mouths and the cloth was again double knotted at the back of our heads over our hair. I thought that our long hair may allow us to loosen the cloth a little, but all that happened was that we couldn’t turn our heads at all because the gag was so tight our hair was trapped against our skin.
To make absolutely sure we couldn’t talk, duct tape was then wrapped over the cloth gag a couple of times.
We huddled together in silence for most of the day, trying the best we could to console each other with our eyes. I, and I guess my three companions, were contemplating just what the future held for us.
Would the men be true to their word and leave us here whilst they collected the money?
What was meant by just three of us remaining. Who was the fourth and what will they do to him?
How will we get free after they leave? I was certain we would be tied up and, with their expertise at tying us up, there would be virtually no chance of us getting free without some outside help.
No-one knows where we are, so who could possibly help us?
To further complicate matters, I overheard the men discuss what would happen to us when the excitable man suggested to the other man: “Why don’t we just get rid of all these brats? We don’t need ‘em when we got the money an’ they might just lead the cops to us.”
I couldn’t hear the reply, but I hoped with all my heart that the other man was really the one in charge and that he would keep us here – alive – after they left.
We all remained bound and gagged throughout the day until around seven in the evening.
We were actually fully untied and ungagged, taken individually to the toilet and given some more stale buns and a drink. Our final meal, I thought!
After we had eaten, our hands were again tied, palm to palm, behind our backs with the same rope with which we had been tied during the day.
It was then that the calmer man explained what was going to happen to us.
“Right boys, here’s the drill.”
“We’re going out soon to collect the cash we’ve been promised for you. Your folks must love all of you as they coughed up straight away.”
“When we’ve got the cash, we’re gonna split. We’ll be outa the state in a couple of hours and then outa the country. We’re gonna live a life of luxury, thanks to you boys.”
“When we’re all safe out of the country, we’ll make another call to your old man” he motioned toward Peter “telling him where to find you.”
“If anything goes wrong, if we don’t get the money, we’ll come back here and slit your throats. That’s a promise boys and you know we keep our promises, don’t you?”
We all gave a collective gulp as we took in what we heard.
For the first time during our capture, I felt a real sense of terror. The man would do what he threatened – I knew it. Please, please let everything go to plan.
“To give us plenty of time to get out of this rathole, we’ve really gotta make sure you cant escape until we make the call from … well, let’s just say out of this country.” The man continued with his explanation of our immediate future.
“If you think you’ve been tied up securely this weekend, well, you aint seen nothin’ yet.”
“We know you boys like your little playtime tie-up games. Just think of this one as a long, long, long tie-up game. The best you’ve ever had!”
With our hands tied behind us, we were ordered to lie on the floor so we could be trussed up to their satisfaction.
The men then proceeded to cut all the rope in six feet lengths and they also produced another 15 to 20 rolls of duct tape. What on earth were we in for, my muddled brain tried to think.
Both men started on Peter first. His ankles were tied together side by side with one of the lengths of rope, with double knots every now and then and the rope was finally cinched tightly. Another piece of rope was tied around his legs just below his knees, some more rope just above his knees and finally rope was wound around the top of his thighs and also cinched.
Peter’s wrists had already been tied palm to palm and the rope cinched but then the same was done to his elbows. They were pulled together so that they touched, rope encircled them and then passed between them cinching them.
The position of his tied wrists and elbows would not have been painful as his 15 year old limbs were quite flexible and subtle. However, to remain in such a position for any length of time, would be another matter.
I was next to be tied in an identical manner to Peter. Ropes around my ankles, below and above my knees, around my thighs and then my elbows were bound. If any of the ropes didn’t appear tight enough to one of the men, he yanked it until I yelped or until he thought it was totally secure.
Great, I thought, we’re going to spend the next day hogtied on the floor! However, that was not was the men had planned, as I was soon to discover.
Matt was then bound as Peter and I were, though the men had some difficulty in tying his elbows together as he was not quite as flexible as we were. Still, they did manage it but you could see the strain on Matt’s biceps and shoulders. He didn’t complain out loud – he would not give the men that satisfaction.
Ricky was the last to be bound, but only his ankles and above knees were tied, along with his elbows. Also, more rope was wrapped around his wrists and then tied around his waist a couple of times, pinning his hands to his body. Why the slight change in tying technique for Ricky?
With us all trussed up like turkeys going to the slaughter (a dreadful analogy I know, but that’s what came to mind), the men each grabbed a number of rolls of duct tape. What did they have in store for us? It couldn’t be just for gagging us – there was too much tape for just that.
We discovered very quickly what the tape was going to be used for.
Starting with Peter and me, we were ordered to clasp our hand together, interlocking our fingers. That done, tape was wound over our fingers and hands, totally engulfing them in tape until not one fraction of an inch of skin could be seen. With our hands all taped up, we then had no possibility of fiddling around trying to undo any of the ropes.
The taping still wasn’t completed as the tape was then wrapped over our tied wrists, over our forearms and over our tied elbows. When this process was completed, the ropes binding our wrists and elbows could no longer be seen.
With our arms completely immobilised, the men then started on our legs. Firstly, our feet were completely encased in tape. Every inch of skin on our feet and toes disappeared from view. There was one grey blob where our feet once where.
Still there was more! Roll after roll of tape was expended on wrapping our legs. Our calves were wrapped, then our knees, up over our thighs and only stopped when the rope securing our upper thighs was covered. In places where some skin was showing, more duct tape was placed over that area.
They’re mummifying us, I thought, just like those old Egyptian mummies I had seen pictures of.
It was the very first time I had been taped up or mummified anything like this. If you’re tied up with rope – arms or legs – there is some muscle movement that can be made. With tape also covering your limbs, it felt like my legs and my arms were glued together. I literally couldn’t move a muscle!
Matt and Ricky then received similar treatment and I suppose it must have looked rather comical with four large grey worms wriggling around the floor.
Well, the men had kept another promise in that we weren’t going to escape this manner of tying up, but there were more surprises to come to us.
One of the men was still kneeling down beside Ricky when he informed him “You’re coming with us, kid. A bit of insurance in case things go wrong, and maybe a bit of a diversion if cops get involved.”
Ricky was as shocked as any of us were, but his stammering protests were quickly silenced by the knotted cloth gag behind shoved into his mouth and tied securely behind his head. Then, more tape was produced to be wound at least four times around the cloth gag and he was also blindfolded with the tape. Even more tape was wrapped around his chest and arms, sealing his arms to his body with about twenty wraps of the tape. Ricky was about as mummified with tape as he could be.
Ricky must have been terrified and I wondered just what the men were going to do to him. In my mind, all was forgiven for Rick’s previous action, and I just hoped everything would turn out all right for him.
With Ricky all parcelled up, the men turned their attention to Matt and me as they lifted us up and placed us each on a chair, leaving Peter writhing on the floor. Then more ropes came out! This time they appeared to be about 10 feet sections of rope.
We were going to be tied to a chair.
It was useless trying to resist as all the struggling and wriggling (that’s all you can do when you’re half-mummified) was pointless. We were at the men’s mercy.
I couldn’t help wondering why the men were trussing us up so elaborately. With their proven expertise, surely just a simple hands and feet tie-up and a hogtie would have kept us secured for hours and hours. Maybe it was just an adult version of the tie-up games we teenagers were so keen on and we were the unwilling victims.
When this ordeal was over, hopefully to a satisfactory conclusion, would all of us still be so keen to play our child-like tie-up games? They certainly weren’t a lot of fun at the moment.
Matt and I were propped in our chairs (which had been tied separately to a bed) and, somehow, our taped arms were manoeuvred over the back of the chair, causing a little strain on our shoulders.
The first rope was tied around my waist and securing my lower body to the lower section of the chair. Another rope then encircled my chest, trapping it against the chair and the same rope also tied each upper arm to the chair. A further rope was tied from the chest rope vertically over each shoulder and tied down behind the chair ensuring that I couldn’t lean my upper body forward.
Rope number four then was wrapped around my already tied and taped wrists and they were then lashed to the sides of the chair and the rope continued around my waist.
Now that my upper body was firmly fixed to the chair, the man turned his attention to my legs. I don’t know why as they were completely immobile with all the rope and tape around them. However, more rope was wrapped around my thighs, tying them to the seat of the chair.
It was extremely difficult to bend my legs at the knees, especially as they were mummified, but the man managed to bend them ninety degrees so he could tie my feet to the chair. My taped feet were placed equidistant between the two chair legs and a rope was tied around them, then tied to each leg of the chair and, finally, attached also to the back rung of the chair. I now couldn’t move my legs an inch sideways and also couldn’t move them backward or forward!
Simply put, I had now become a part of the chair. With all of my legs taped up, my hand and arms taped up, and all parts of my body tied in some way to the chair, there was not one single part of the body I could move – apart from my head of course.
If the men had wanted to keep us secure until they had made their way out of the country, they had done a stunning job. The only way any of us could get loose was to get some outside help. But from who and when?
At least the men hadn’t gagged or blindfolded us so we could pass the time by talking to each other.
A slight problem I had, and Matt to a lesser extent, was that my hair was so long and so thick that it kept falling over my eyes and into my mouth. All I could do was to shake or flick my head to clear my hair away from my face.
Both men then grabbed Peter and proceeded to rope him to the chair in exactly the same way as they had done to Matt and me. Petie had seen how we had been bound and he did his best to make it difficult for his captors by squirming around in the chair. It made no difference as Peter was soon cocooned in a myriad of ropes and all he could move was the long blond hair on his head.
Whilst all this was occurring Ricky, who had been all but mummified with tape, was also writhing on the floor trying to rid himself of his rope and tape bonds. He might as well saved his efforts as he was also not getting loose without someone untying him.
The calmer man scooped Ricky off the floor and slung him over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes and carried him up the stairs and out the door, presumably to dump him in their vehicle. I hoped Ricky would come to no harm and that the men were just going to leave him somewhere, as they had said.
I then saw the excitable man walk over to the table and pick up the three saliva-soaked cloths that we had been gagged with earlier. He first approached Matt and was about to insert one into his mouth when Matt protested, “Aw come on man. You don’t need to do that. Let us talk to one another. Who’s going to hear us anyway if we do yell out?”
This plea was completely ignored by the mean who pushed the double knotted gag deep into Matt’s mouth and tied it over his long black hair at the back of his head.
“Hey, howd’ya like that kid? Not too tight, is it kid?” the man leered.
Matt shook his head vigorously to signify ‘no’. Big mistake Matt!
The man undid the knot at the back of his head and really yanked both ends of the cloth, causing Matt’s mouth to change shape, and tied it oh so tightly with many knots. Duct tape was then produced and wound around Matt’s head over the cloth gag at least half a dozen times.
Peter was similarly gagged and so was I, and the man was none too gentle with either of us. With the tightness of the cloth I almost would have preferred the ballgag.
The other man had by then returned to the room and expressed some surprise at the fact that we had been gagged. “I wasn’t gonna do that to them but, oh well, what the hell, let’s leave things as they are.”
Obviously our pleading eyes didn’t sway him at all.
Both men had rolls of duct tape in their hands and we were informed that we were to be blindfolded and left to our own devices.
The calmer man said “We’ll leave the TV on for you. You can listen to that, so it’ll while away the time a bit.”
“Like I said, we’ll make a phone call when we’re clear of this country and someone’ll come and cut you loose. You’re not gonna get out before then so just settle back, relax and listen to the TV. It’ll probably be twenty four to thirty six hours.”
“Thanks young fella for making us very, very rich. We must do this again another time!” he gloated.

### Re: The Four Amigos

Post by xtc » Sat Jun 03, 2017 2:16 am

I hope there's something good on the tele.
Boxer shorts are cool,
but little speedos rule!
More by the same author: viewtopic.php?f=5&t=22729

### Re: The Four Amigos

Post by alkaid_ » Sat Jun 03, 2017 10:00 am

WOW!
A M A Z I N G!

### Re: The Four Amigos

Post by testar » Fri Jun 09, 2017 6:43 pm

Part 7 ...... Waiting in vain for a rescue
That said, we were each blindfolded with about six turns of tape going over our eyes and foreheads. My world went black.
The television was turned on, the men walked up the stairs, slammed the door shut and locked it, and we were alone.
Three young teenagers tied to chairs with heaps of rope and rolls and rolls of duct tape, gagged and blindfolded with tape with no chance of untying themselves. We had to rely on two men who had abducted us and held us captive for three days, to make a telephone call to someone to come and rescue us.
My first thought was that we were most likely to meet a slow death by starvation and dehydration or perhaps by suffocation.
Would the men make the ‘phone call? Would our rescuers find us and would they make it in time?
Because of our futile struggles to free ourselves on the Saturday when we were left alone for a few hours, I decided that it was of no use whatsoever to even attempt to free myself and I might as well save my strength for the time ahead.
Firstly, I couldn’t move a single muscle in any direction as my legs and arms were glued together by the tape.
Secondly, with my hands taped into a grey ball, I couldn’t use them to loosen any tape or rope.
Thirdly, my world was totally black so I couldn’t see the tape and rope that was binding me.
Lastly, the cloth and tape gag meant that I could only breathe through my nose, so any sort of struggle may make breathing very, very difficult.
It became apparent to me that both Peter and Matt thought along the same lines as I heard little movement from either of them. In any case, they were both trussed up, like me, so that they also couldn’t move any muscle.
To my utter surprise, the TV channel the men had switched on was our local cable TV station! Maybe we weren’t too far from home or were at least in the same state.
That gave me some comfort as I was able to listen to programs with which I was familiar.
I made the decision that I would try to go to sleep, so the first few hours would pass more quickly. After all, what else could I do?
It would have been around 10 or 11 in the evening when the men left so, hopefully, I might sleep until early in the morning. I dozed off.
When I awoke, I had no idea what the time was and what condition Matt and Peter were in as there was no sound from the position I thought there were in. I tried to flex my muscles in my arms and legs but there was no movement. The rope and tape bindings held fast!
The tape around my mouth and eyes was also still doing it’s job. Blackness still enveloped me and I could barely move my mouth, certainly not enough to make any sounds.
My ears picked up a couple of faint sounds either side of me and I surmised it was probably Peter and Matt. I tied to yell as loud as I could but the cloth and tape in and around my mouth probably reduced it to a whimper. At least we knew the three of us were still alive.
A short time later I recognized a program on the TV that I often listened to early mornings in my bedroom. The time would have been between seven and eight in the morning.
Weird and wild thoughts were jumbled around in my head.
What if all of this is a dream, I thoughtfully hoped. I’m going to wake up soon and had a good laugh about this.
What if this is a cruel prank someone has pulled on us. In a few minutes Ricky’s going to untie us and we’ll have chuckle about it.
No such luck, as this is as real as real can be. We actually HAD been kidnapped and we were actually helplessly bound, gagged, blindfolded, waiting and praying for someone to rescue us. I was not at all religious but I must admit a couple of small prayers crossed my mind.
When the program had finished the eight o’clock news bulletin began. The lead story involved an overnight police chase. More kids pinching cars, I thought.
The newsreader started:
‘A police chase at 1.00 a.m. ended tragically when a Ford Transit van overturned on Route 32, 30 miles outside of Scranton. The driver of the vehicle, Mr Jeremy Joseph Clark, died instantly and the passenger, Mr John Patrick Carter, was taken to Scranton Memorial Hospital in a critical condition.
It is understood the police were hoping to speak to both men about the disappearance of four local teenagers. The youths, Peter Barker, Scott Patton, Matthew Whelson and Richard Edwards, were last seen at the home of engineering tycoon Shane Barker last Friday.
It is also understood that several briefcases of money were found at the crash scene, suggesting that ransom monies may have been paid for the return of the missing boys.
The police have not confirmed that any kidnapping or ransom has taken place in regards to the missing youths, but they hope to question Mr Carter when he regains consciousness at Scranton Hospital.’
‘This station will keep you updated on any further developments in this case with news updates throughout the day.’
This blew my mind!
Our kidnappers had had an accident after collecting the ransom for us, one was dead and one was in hospital. The good news was that Ricky was apparently not in the crash so he must have been dropped somewhere before the men picked up the money. As Ricky was still one of the four ‘missing’ teens, he obviously hadn’t been found.
Hey, wait! I know those names – Clark and Carter. These guys had helped out at our youth club a couple of years ago. I do remember them now.
This is probably why they wore the hoods during our captivity as they knew we would recognize them.
Whilst I felt a tinge of sadness that one of the men had died – they had, after all, treated us relatively kindly during our captivity – this turn of events could signal the end of our ordeal. All the police had to do was to obtain details of our whereabouts from John Carter when he awoke in the hospital.
Some muffled sounds from Matt and Peter indicated that they, too, had heard the telecast and had also probably recognized the names of our kidnappers.
With renewed hope in my heart I thought that maybe I could loosen some of my bindings somehow and either get more comfortable or get one of my limbs free.
Well, that faint hope dwindled very quickly as nothing, just nothing, was loosening or even moving. The ropes were as firm as they were when I was initially tied up and every piece of the tape was still glued to me. Not Superman, not Houdini, not anyone would be able to escape from my bindings.
All I could do was to sit there and wait for our rescue.
Even though we had the television to listen to, time dragged extremely slowly. Every hour seemed like ten hours. Then came the newsflash that I had been waiting for.
Mid-afternoon, a newsreader interrupted the scheduled program to announce:
‘A statement released at 1.00 p.m. by the Scranton Police Department reads ‘Mr John Patrick Carter passed away at Scranton Memorial Hospital at 12.35 p.m. from injuries sustained earlier today. The police had hoped to question Mr Carter about the disappearance of four local youths, but Mr Carter did not regain consciousness. No further information regarding the four youths will be released at this stage.”
My heart sank and, if I had not been blindfolded, I would have burst into tears.
Our last hope for rescue has gone with the man’s death! No-one knows where we are and we’re surely going to die!
Maybe, just maybe, if the police are now involved in the case they can find some clues. If this is the home of our kidnappers we should be easy to locate. If it isn’t, well …..

### Re: The Four Amigos

Post by xtc » Sat Jun 10, 2017 3:03 am

Things are getting a bit dark. Here's hoping Ricky comes through.
Boxer shorts are cool,
but little speedos rule!
More by the same author: viewtopic.php?f=5&t=22729

### Re: The Four Amigos

Post by alkaid_ » Sun Jun 11, 2017 10:07 am

my fucking god... the kids are now in real troubles...

### Re: The Four Amigos

Post by licensetotie » Sat Aug 05, 2017 4:31 pm

I don't know who's getting tortured worse right now. The dudes in this story that are facing a slow and squirmy death or ME and the rest of your fans who are having to wait for the next chapter of this after getting owned pooless with the most intense cliffhanger of all time! Seriously dude...PLEASE help us out here! We want...no...we NEED to know what happens next!

### Re: The Four Amigos

Post by drawscore » Sun Aug 06, 2017 1:40 am

Well written, no glaring grammar or spelling errors; no problems with homonyms. It flows well, holds the reader's attention, and the cliffhanger chapters leave readers with a thirst for more.
Many years ago, Dick Clark had teens rate new records on American Banstand. He said that no record was ever perfect, and no record was ever a total disaster. The scale was 0-100, but had a shorter range: 5-98. Using that scale, I give it a 95. A solid "A."
Drawscore

### Re: The Four Amigos

Post by skdj » Tue Aug 08, 2017 7:57 pm

Well, it looks like Scott somehow survived the ordeal to tell the story. Like Ishmael in "Moby Dick." Very well written, intense, and leaves the reader yearning to know the continuation.

### Re: The Four Amigos

Post by testar » Sun Oct 08, 2017 7:12 am

Part 8 (FINAL) ........ Alive or dead?
I dozed off intermittently over the next few hours which was quite fortunate as it halted some of the depressing scenarios I was contemplating. Even the sounds emanating from the television were pushed into the background.
The nightly news came on punctually at 7.00 p.m. and the first grab caught my attention immediately.
‘The Scranton Police Department this afternoon located one of the four missing teenagers for whom they had been searching. Richard Allen Edwards, 15, of Fifth Avenue West in Alinta, was located in bushland ten miles north of Scranton by a bushwalker. Richard was found, bound and gagged, and was suffering from exhaustion, exposure and dehydration when located. He was taken to Scranton Hospital where he is in a serious but stable condition.’
‘No details have yet been released about the three other missing teenagers, Peter Barker, Scott Patton and Matthew Whelson but it is understood the police have few, if any, leads as to their whereabouts.’
The good news was that Ricky had been found alive and relatively healthy – he would receive good treatment in the hospital.
The bad news was that no-one appeared to have any idea where Matt, Peter and I were!
Could Ricky provide the police with some small clue that would reveal our position? It was probably unlikely as all four of us were heavily blindfolded from the moment we were taken from Mr Barker’s home to when we were deposited in the basement of this house. The drive here took several hours, so we could be hundreds of miles from Scranton, or just a few blocks away!
I tried the best I could to relax and wait for that ‘white knight’ who would rescue us. I had little feeling in my legs and my arms as the circulation to those limbs was minimal. Still the only part of my body I could move was my head and even that was starting to feel very heavy, weighed down by all the tape around my head and over my eyes and mouth.
Around midnight, more than twenty-four hours after we had been tied to the chairs, I was woken out of my slumber by a noise above me. A key was rattling in the door lock and someone was opening the door. Hallelujah, we were being rescued!
A person’s footsteps clomped down the stairs. Why was there just one person; the whole police force should be here.
I was expecting to hear words like ‘You’re safe now boys, it’s over. I’m Officer such-and-such from Scranton Police Department. We’re here to take you home.’
My utter elation at our imminent rescue turned to the depths of despair in a moment when the person entering the room said: “Shit, it’s lucky I got here before the cops. I just knew those idiots Carter and Clark would have brought you kids here. They got shit for brains.”
“Give ‘em the loan of my house for a couple of weeks and they’ve dragged me into kidnapping brats! I cant get involved in anything like this. They’ll send me straight back to the slammer even if I did have nothin’ to do with this.”
“Well, you kids cant stay here any longer. I’ll have to get rid of ya somewhere else.”
What did this man mean?
Was he going to take us away from his home and dispose of us elsewhere? Kill us?
It sure sounded like it.
My strength and despair was at such a low ebb I said to myself ‘Just do it. Just get it over with.’ At that moment I couldn’t have cared if I lived or died.
The man approached Peter and said to his bound form “So you’re the blond kid they were talkin’ about. Well, your daddy aint gonna see his baby blondie no more.”
“Wowiee” the man exclaimed “Those prats sure know how to tie someone up properly. I’m gonna have to get a knife to cut these ropes. Just hang fire kids.”
I heard Peter’s ropes being cut and the man moved onto me next. It took him only a minute to cut all the ropes binding me to the chair. It came as quite a relief when the ropes surrounding my waist and chest were cut as they had become excruciatingly tight. If I hadn’t been gagged I would have let out a huge sign of relief.
Stupidly I tried to move my head around and perhaps give the man some thought transfers that I would love to have the gag taken out of my mouth. Whether he took any notice at all I don’t know, and the gag remained in place.
When Matt was cut loose from the chair ropes we were taken from the basement room and put in the back of a vehicle, probably a van. This man couldn’t have been as big or as strong as our two kidnappers as he chose not to bodily lift me, but grabbed me by my shoulders and dragged me up the stairs out into the vehicle.
It must have been a smallish van as the three of us were bundled into the back and were laying right next to each other. We still couldn’t communicate with each other by voice, hand signals or touch, so we rolled around the vehicle, bouncing against each other on our journey to who knows where.
What was going to happen to us now?
If Ricky had been able to provide clues to the police to ascertain our whereabouts, it would now be of little use as we were on our way to an unknown location.
Only a short time later I heard the vehicle turn onto a gravel surface and, with no other noises, I presumed we were in bushland somewhere.
I was pulled out of the vehicle by my feet and my head hit the ground with a thump, causing me to momentarily to lose my senses. When I got full use of my faculties I felt either Matt or Peter alongside me kicking me with his feet, trying to get my attention.
I also heard the sound of the man digging and shovelling dirt nearby.
Surely not. No! No!
He was going to bury us! He was going to bury us alive!
I started to squirm and writhe around on the ground and I yelled as loud as I could into my double gag. It appeared that Matt and Peter were doing much the same, as they had come to the same realisation as I. The three of us still had our legs and arms tied tightly with many feet of rope, our legs, arms and hands were mummified with tape and we were blindfolded and gagged with tape.
We had no hope. We were all going to die.
No, not like this! Please, Lord, don’t let it end like this!
The man had been completely silent since we had left his house and our struggles and whimpers obviously had no effect on him. He kept digging!
I must have been the first one that he picked up.
He grabbed me by my ankles, dragged me across the ground and rolled me into a hole or a ditch that he had dug. My two friends were then dragged and rolled into the ditch, both landing on top of me with a thump, knocking the wind out of me.
I blacked out.
.............................................................................
When I awoke I felt hands moving all over me. Angels soothing me and welcoming me to heaven?
No, it was a couple of people slowly unwrapping the tape which had encompassed me for the past day. The tons of rope which had been biting into my flesh on my legs and arms were being unknotted and cut by these people.
I felt nothing as my limbs were numb and I guess I was still in shock. I realised the gag and the blindfold had also been removed, as I began to mumble something to my rescuers.
“Wha.. Who, who are you? What’s happened.”
“Here, son, have a drink. Drink slowly now. You’re safe.” was the reply.
I spilt most of the water that was offered to me and gulped down the rest. My jaw was aching something fierce, mainly from the cloth gag that had been in my mouth for more than a day.
I was still in a daze, but I blurted out “Matty, Petie. Where are they? Are they OK?”
“Your friends? Yes, they’re fine Scott. They’re very weak just like you. We’re taking you to hospital for the doctors to check you out.”
My vision was a little blurred from the many hours of having my eyes taped, but I managed to make out the forms of Matt and Peter laying on the ground near me.
I also noticed an ambulance and some police vehicles with lights still flashing. The man who was going to bury us was in one of the police cars, obviously under arrest.
I was lifted onto a stretcher and placed into the ambulance between Matt and Peter who were also on stretchers. Peter looked in a bad way – he was barely conscious.
Neither of us said a word. We were all in shock but just glad to be alive. I was bawling my eyes out, Peter had tears streaming down his face and even the normally strong and proud Matt was crying like a baby.
Our beautiful long hair, for which we had great pride and always kept neat and tidy, was a tangled mess of sweat and dirt and tape residue. We must have looked like tramps.
I clasped the hands of my two friends as the ambulance sped off.
Later on I was able to ascertain how our rescue was organised.
The police knew the names of our two kidnappers who knew the third man (his name was Robert Quinn). From the little bits of information Ricky had been able to provide, they knew that Quinn owned a large house with a basement.
Unfortunately the police arrived at the house just as Quinn’s van was leaving, with Matt, Peter and me inside. They followed the van at a safe distance, not wanting to stop it in case it put us in more danger. They had to wait until the van stopped and Quinn had taken us out of the vehicle. Then they had to wait until the man put down the shovel before they moved in.
Not a moment too soon!
We were reunited with Ricky at the hospital. His injuries were minor and he recovered more quickly than the three of us who had suffered more trauma than he had.
As I suspected, Peter was listed as being in a ‘critical condition’. It was touch and go for a short time but his father, who was at his bedside continually, was eventually able to give us the good news that he would make a full recovery.
I was treated for several cuts and bruises all over my body, along with a multitude of rope burns all over my legs and arms. Blood circulation was also a worry for a time, and it took some weeks before I got the feeling back in all my fingers. My vision returned to normal fairly quickly and the dehydration problem was also rectified.
Matt’s injuries were similar to mine and his recovery was fairly swift.
The worst part of our ordeal was the psychological trauma that we all suffered. Even though our two abductors treated us humanely as much as they could, the realisation that we thought we were going to die left deep scars on us. Also, the fact that we had all been tied up and gagged, and sometimes blindfolded, for virtually three whole days weighed on our minds for a time.
As for Ricky, the full story of his involvement came out in a confession to the police. He definitely could have faced a lengthy jail term for what he did but it was agreed by Matt, Peter and myself, along with consultation with all our parents, that we did not want any charges laid against him. The police reluctantly agreed but gave Ricky and his parents a real dressing down.
When the dust had settled, Mr Barker, after a lot of pressure from Peter and also Matt and me, agreed to fund Mrs Edwards’ operation and also gave Mr Edwards a job. All of the Edwards’ problems were solved!
It took the four of us – now the ‘four musketeers’ – some months for things to return to normal.
Our Friday evening meetings were resumed, although the manservant Phillip was always present when we met at the Barker home.
Did we keep wearing our hair long after having it continually taped during our abduction? Of course we did – even wearing it a bit longer. After all, it WAS our trademark. Even Ricky grew his hair to shoulder length – he looked better with long hair!
Did we keep playing our tie-up games during our meetings?
Of course we did!

### Re: The Four Amigos

Post by bondagefreak » Sun Oct 08, 2017 8:52 pm

Just caught up to this now and found it to be a very enjoyable read!
Very well written plot, excellent pacing, smart dialogue and all in all pretty realistic.
The first chapter is a little long though and takes a while to get into.
It pays off when in the long run, but I can't help but feel that lengthy (slow) intros contribute to the lack of popularity of some stories on here.
This one definitely deserves more views and reviews.
Well done.
I look forward to reading more from you!

### Re: The Four Amigos

Post by skdj » Sun Oct 15, 2017 8:03 pm

Great conclusion to an excellent story! The thought process of the narrator makes this very compelling and captivating.

### Re: The Four Amigos

Post by xtc » Mon Oct 16, 2017 3:57 am

Bravo. Now waiting for the next tale you wish to share.
Although I agree to a certain extent with Bondagefreak, I would ask you to take your time to set the scene and not to rush too much. The resultant writing will be better.
Boxer shorts are cool,
but little speedos rule!
More by the same author: viewtopic.php?f=5&t=22729