Postby skdj » Sun Aug 13, 2017 7:57 pm
Chapter 3
Something strange is going on when I wake up. Usually I need to stretch, but it seems that I’m already stretching. Actually, it’s more like I can’t stop stretching. Or is it that I can’t un-stretch? Then I realize I’m tied spread-eagled to a bed and panic, trying to break free. Half a minute later I remember I got in this position, and calm down. It is a thrill waking up like that. Now, I’m more hungry than anything else. I never did get that late-night snack last night.
I consider calling out, but decide against it for several reasons. My abductors warned me about making noise, and I don’t need to be gagged or tickled again. At least not so soon after the last time. Since I went to the bathroom in the middle of the night, that won’t be a problem for at least an hour, I guess. But I have to admit the most compelling reason is that – it feels good! Clenching my fingers and toes to increases circulation in my limbs. I yawn, and just lie there, content to wait and see what happens. I’ve lost track of time, but I think it’s late morning.
Around half an hour later Mickey and Joe come downstairs in well-worn t-shirts and shorts. Like before, Mickey does most of the talking, but he doesn’t sound as menacing as before. “Good morning. Did you sleep good?”
I had sort of dozed off again. “Uh, Mickey? Oh, it felt weird at first, but I guess I got used to it and slept alright.”
“Good. Your old man got our message. He said he has to go to the bank to make the arrangements, and will call back in the afternoon. So we’ll have to keep you tied up until then.”
The part about getting the message is a relief. “Okay, I understand.”
“Now here’s the deal. We’ll untie you, you can use the bathroom and wash up, and then go sit in the chair. We’ll tie your legs and body to it, but leave your arms free so you can eat. I don’t want to have to feed you like a baby. Do anything wrong, and you can starve. Is it a deal?”
It’s not as if I have any bargaining power in my position, and I don’t want to mess anything up now. “It’s a deal.”
They untie me from the bed, I follow the instructions exactly and then Joe starts to tie me to the indicated chair. Then he throws me the long rope and orders, “Hey, you do it. And make a good job of it.”
This is unexpected, but I do as ordered. I tie my legs and body to the chair rather tightly, figuring Joe will make it worse if I don’t. If necessary, I’ll be able to free myself in a couple minutes since my arms are free. I take the opportunity to rub my wrists, which aren’t as sore as I feared. Fortunately I didn’t struggle after they left me last night.
“See that, Mickey?” asks Joe. “He did do a good job.” Then to me, “Looks like you’ve had a lot of practice doing this.”
He’s right, but I don’t want to admit this. At that moment my stomach growls, reminding everyone that I’m hungry.
Mickey goes upstairs and comes back down with a box of cereal, a bowl and spoon, and a carton of milk, and sets them roughly on the table. I was half expecting bread and water, so I’m not complaining. Good thing I’m not lactose intolerant.
“It feels kind of funny eating breakfast like this.”
“Wanna see how it feels to starve like this?” asks Joe.
“No, Joe, this is fine.”
Mickey and Joe leave, and I devour the half-full box of cereal. I was hungrier than I realized. When I’m done, it occurs to me that I have a chance to escape, but I bet one of them is waiting at the top of the stairs to see if I try. It’s fine just sitting here like this, so I’ll keep up my good behavior.
A half hour later they all come down to the basement, and seem to be in a cheerful mood. Jackie and Lookout, both still with wild hair, have also ditched the black outfits for t-shirts and shorts, although theirs are in worse condition that the other two, with the shirts have tears and holes in them. Maybe they’ll use the ransom money to buy good clothes.
Since they look to be a good mood, I figure if I act friendly, they may go easy on me. “Good morning Jackie and … I never got your name.”
“That’s because I ain’t got one,” declares Lookout.
Jackie offers, “That’s a reason we use code names. His is “Farina.”
That’s an unusual name, but I’m not commenting on that. Farina gives Jackie a shove, and Jackie responds in kind, but the shoves are more playful than angry.
“Good morning, Farina.”
He stares at me, and then huddles with the rest of the gang. They apparently make a decision, and then Farina tells me,
“Good morning. Let’s see you untie yourself from that chair. Go wash up, and then come back here.”
It takes me a couple minutes to get the knot loose, and the boys snicker at my efforts. But I succeed, take the chance to wash up, and return. Joe has positioned himself at the foot of the stairs, blocking any foolish escape attempt on my part, but I have no intention of trying.
“So what are we going to do now?”
Jackie proclaims, “We used a lot of duct tape last night, so we got this idea for a game. Sit in that chair, and we’ll see how many coils of duct tape it takes to hold you. That way we won’t have to waste so much.”
I’m sure that I don’t have a choice, so I say, “Okay, sounds like fun.”
I sit in the chair he indicated, a solid wooden one with arms and vertical slats in the back. I put my arms on the armrests, and Jackie wraps one loop of duct tape around each wrist and an arm of the chair, while Farina does the same for each ankle and a chair leg. I twist my wrists and ankles, and break free rather easily.
“That was fun!” I exclaim.
“Good. Now let’s see you try two coils.” Jackie is grinning.
It is a lot more than twice as hard to break through two loops. I twist and squirm and bounce on the chair, and in a couple minutes notice the duct tape on my wrists start to tear. Encouraged, I keep at it and in another couple minutes manage to break the tape on my wrists. I then reach down to unwrap my ankles. I raise my arms in triumph. This was a lot of fun, and there is a great feeling of accomplishment.
“Yes!”
“Very good. Now we’ll try three.”
Stopping at two would have been fine with me, but this is not unexpected and now I get an ominous feeling. I am disappointed but not too surprised when I can’t break loose after fifteen minutes of hard struggling. Panting, I admit that I can’t get loose.
“Looks like three is enough to hold you,” remarks Jackie.
“He could be faking,” notes Farina. “Let’s make sure.”
I could kick myself for not figuring out what he meant until a second later when I see him holding the feather duster. Actually, I’m bound too well to kick anything, but more importantly I determine there is a 100 percent chance he’s going to tickle me no matter what I say.
There is little satisfaction in being right. Farina promptly tickles my vulnerable stomach. Before I can say anything, I’m howling in laughter. I try in vain to protect my belly and my sides with my hands. My armpits aren’t as vulnerable as before, but he makes up for it by tickling my feet, which are several inches off the floor. This feels like it goes on longer than before, probably three or four minutes, by which time I’m gasping for breath. He examines the tape binding my wrists to the arms of the chair.
“Hmm, this tape is cracked a little. Another few minutes of tickling and you might have broken loose. We better fix that.”
He and Jackie add another revolution of tape around my ankles and wrists, and it appears this game is over.
“We got stuff to do,” announces Mickey, and they all leave me alone.
I have a mixture of emotions. It is frustrating and humiliating not to be able to break loose. Then again, if I could break free of this, they would have just added more tape until I couldn’t. But this is also exciting, and there is a thrill in realizing my kidnappers can come back at any time and tickle me some more. Or something worse if I don’t behave.
I get a lot of time to think. The sunlight through the barred windows reveals what I couldn’t see last night. The basement is huge, so this must be a pretty big house. Now I can see a washer and dryer, and a furnace which isn’t needed in this heat, but more interesting is a universal weight machine in a far corner with a barbell and some dumbbells on the floor nearby. That’s what I need – equipment to work out on and get bigger muscles.
This does get boring after a while. It’s hard to tell time but it feels like four hours when the foursome comes back down.
“No news yet,” announces Mickey.
Jackie and Farina unwrap the tape around my wrists, and in a show of toughness I don’t make a sound when the last layer is pulled off. Joe has brought me lunch.
“I hope you like Spaghetti-O’s,” he comments.
Surely the alternative is nothing, so I say, “Thank you, that’s good.”
They let me eat, then unwrap my ankles and let me go to the bathroom, and then I know what’s coming up.
“Are we going to play that game again?”
“If you want to,” responds Jackie in a poor attempt to disguise that was what was on his mind all along. “Let’s make it a little different.”
Farina tapes my ankles to the chair legs again, but this time my legs are bent to the outside instead of directly in front, making it a bit more uncomfortable. Jackie tapes my wrists to the slats behind my back, near the seat so it isn’t too bad an angle. I suppose if I had misbehaved my hands would be tied higher against my back.
The results are very similar. I break through a single coil of tape easily, two with difficulty, and fail at three.
“It’s my turn.” Jackie grabs the feather duster and of course tickles my defenseless body. I resist laughing out loud for a few seconds, and then break down completely. This goes on for five minutes I guess; it seems like each time it goes on for longer. This time I don’t make any progress in loosening the tape, and they just leave me as I try to regain my breath.
The hours pass by, and maybe it’s three hours later when the quartet returns.
“Hey,” Mickey announces holding a phone, “we just got the call from your folks about the ransom. They want to make sure you’re alive before they send the money.”
It’s about time; I was really getting bored. He puts the phone on speaker and I hear my father.
“Son, are you all right?”
“I’m okay. These guys just kept me tied up all the time. Well, almost. They let me go to the bathroom, but I’ve been tied to this chair the rest of the time, even when they let me eat.”
“Okay then, so you’re not hurt?”
“No. It just got pretty boring today.”
“Well, I’m proud of you for holding up so well.”
Enough of this talk, it’s time to get to the main purpose of the call.
“So, you got the ransom money?”
Last edited by
skdj on Sun Aug 27, 2017 7:50 pm, edited 1 time in total.