Postby Jack Roper » Sat May 25, 2013 6:29 pm
Thanks. This took a while but here is the final chapter, for now. Hope you like it.
Part VIII
Bud was just as good at roping as Jason was, and he tied a lot more tightly. Maybe it was because he was still angry at Jason’s advances towards me, but he quickly grabbed a roll of duct tape and began unwinding it around my face.
‘Please, I can explaimmmmpppphhh!” was all I got out. In a matter of seconds the tape was wrapped maybe ten times around my mouth and back of my neck, even under my chin. He grabbed a bandana and blindfolded me and threw me down on the bed.
Helpless again! How many times was I going to be tied and gagged by these two? I thought. I could hear Bud talking gently to Jason, coaxing him back to consciousness.
“I’m so sorry!” he exclaimed, as I could hear Jason begin to stir.
“What the hell….” Jason said.
This was followed by kissing noises—I thought—and the two of them going into the shower for maybe 20 minutes. My sense of time passing was all off, as the drug still coursed through my veins. All I could feel was a wave of love surrounding me and these two kidnappers and here I was securely tied in a mass of rope, leg irons on my ankles, gagged so I could barely make a peep, starting to sweat in the bulky turtleneck, which was now bunched up around my neck and chin. Some bliss!
Being blindfolded seemed paradoxically to enhance all of my senses—except sight, which I had only a sliver of—beneath the bandana. And the more I rolled around on the bed, with irons clanking, the more the blindfold slipped over my eyes, producing total darkness, eventually.
Then I felt two sets of hands begin to grab my body, one removing the leg irons, and the other pulling me upright off the bed. I was marched in the dark into the living room—I guess—and placed on a stout straight-backed chair. Jason pulled my bound arms over the top and secured the ropes to various spots all over the chair back. I could feel my ability to move become more and more restricted, anchoring me tightly to this chair. Bud tied my legs to the chair legs too, but lifted my ankles up off the floor so my feet could barely touch the floor. They just swung helplessly from ropes anchored all over the base of the chair.
Another rope was pulled around my neck, not real tight, but probably five or six times and tied off somewhere above my head, maybe to the ceiling. “So, Boi, here’s the scoop. You’re gonna stay put here in this chair. The rope around your neck means ‘don’t bother moving much,’ ‘because if you do you may just strangle,” Bud laughed.
I leaned forward and he was right. The ropes seemed to tighten. I pulled down on my hands and it tightened again. But if I backed off the noose loosened enough that I began to go into that meditative reverie again. I could hear them go into the bedroom and close the door.
Jason had turned on Teen Wolf again, and the sounds of wolves, bowling, love making and other sudden loud noises, drowned out my muffled screams to be let go. I knew they wouldn’t release me now, and that I was going to have to endure my roped cocoon for quite some time. I vowed to make it comfortable.
“Good night Tommy!” Jason said, as I heard the two of them making muffled love sounds behind the heavy wooden door. I screamed as loud as I could: “MMMMMFFFFHHHHHRRRRRGGGGHHHH!” and then sank back in the chair, straining mightily against the network of ropes restraining me for the next several hours.
I was hyper alert most of the time because of the noose, but being blindfolded and listening to Teen Wolf seductive music, frequently almost put me to sleep. The drug, however, kept me awake for most of the rest of that long night. The air got considerably colder and my sweaty turtleneck dried and, thankfully, kept me warm into the morning. The skinny jeans helped too.
I tried to find my way out of the ropes around my wrists, but they were pulled up behind my back at right angles. If I pulled down on them at all, the noose tightened more and more, so I had to keep my wrists fairly still. I wanted out of this—no matter how pleasant it felt. My fingers explored for the ropes around each wrist. They were tight, and seemed to be cinched every which way. I pulled and tugged, and felt all around, but nothing moved—until, one loop finally slipped off my right wrist.
This was enough to begin, ever so slowly to loosen more and more loops around my right wrist. Three or more loops on my left wrist tightened, as did the noose, but I didn’t care now—I could feel myself getting loose. Finally, my right wrist was free, and I struggled to release my left wrist. I reached up and pulled on the ropes around my chest until the cinching on the left loosened enough for me to remove the loops holding me to the chair. I yanked the noose loops off too, and bent down to untie my legs from the chair. All of this was taking me a great effort and much time, but I could see it was only 3:30 in the morning by a nearby clock. Snoring sounds came from the bedroom.
I got up off the chair, and quickly moved over to the front door, pulling on a pair of boots that seemed to be my size, tightening them up. I quietly opened the door, unlocking the two bolts, and slipped outside into the near freezing German air. I ran softly down the stair, which creaked noisily. There was very little light but I made my way down the driveway to the front gate. It was locked and there was a barbed wire fence around what seemed to be most of the property.
I was breathing heavily and I remembered I was still gagged—“Shit!”-- so I stopped and tried to feel the end, to get it off. It was almost like the tape had no end to grab but after a few minutes I found it and quickly unraveled the ten wraps, with the last one taking some of the hair off the back of my neck, and my now two day old beard. “Oucmmmppphh!” I yelled, gagging my mouth with my left hand.
I circled the property along the fence and came to a hole in the fence maybe 150 feet off to the side, and in the woods. I crawled through this hole, catching my turtleneck on a snag and having to get myself loose one more time. But I was now free. I ran, stumbling, through the woods, on a narrow path, towards the first light I could see, which was a car travelling rapidly down the country road. I tried to make it to the road but the car passed me too rapidly, and I was, again, in the dark. I half ran following the sound of that car, and ran and ran, until the sun came up and I reached a gas station. I must have gone many kilometers (miles).
Obviously I escaped, and my two kidnappers almost got caught. They didn’t; they had left before the Police arrived, but they never got any ransom either. I found out that my great boss refused to negotiate with Bud, because all she was offering was 20,000 Euros (or $25,900 dollars) when Bud and Jason were looking for at least 200,000 Euros (or $259,000 dollars). “What a cheapskate! No wonder I was held hostage so long,” I thought.
So, that’s my tale of being kidnapped.
But since then I seem to have become addicted to being tied up. I can’t get enough of it now, and my girlfriend is getting scared. So, I started looking for Bud and Jason again; checking gay leather bars in Berlin and Amsterdam, but never found them. But I have met some very interesting characters ever since. And I know now that I really like the whole idea of being kidnapped and held against my will, even without the MDMA.
I still have those jeans, boots and turtleneck, and wear them a lot in my cruising, along with a black leather jacket and knitted cap and new BMW (my boss was good for something, after all). Next time you’re in Germany check me out!