WHERE ARE THE DAMN COPS?
They should be here by now!
Shit!
Something went wrong.
Someone tipped them off.
Or maybe —
— Josh was late collecting the ransom.
They don’t have the room number yet, so they can’t find me.
Maybe that’s why no 5-0.
Yeah, that’s it, he’s late.
Josh is always late.
The dude’s a friggin’ mess.
He does manage to score the best smack in town, though.
And he came in pretty handy helping pull-off this little trick.
I knew he’d be all-in on it.
He loves the life and the ladies too much to let the rager stop.
He knows the party boat don’t go unless the motor gets greased.
Bank’s gotta come from somewhere.
Still, he didn’t have to tie the ropes so tight!
We agreed it had to appear real.
But not this real, chester.
Damn!
When we did the ransom video, I just put my arms behind the chair, and he wrapped the ropes around my chest, and that was enough.
Oh, and I also gagged myself beforehand with this red bandana tied between my teeth.
I acted the shit out of that scene.
All moaning and struggling and pleading into the camera lens with my baby blues.
Josh said it looked convincing.
He said it looked “hot.”
Shit, yeah, it was hot.
It had to look like the actual thing.
Nothing halfway about this one.
It has to work, first time out of the chute, otherwise we both say goodbye to the blast and the blow and the boobs and the whole beautiful bacchanal.
I shoulda been a poet. Or at least a rapper.
So that’s why I told him to go wild with the ropes this time.
It had to look like there was no chance I could escape.
He was grinning the whole time he tied me.
He got my feet and knees wrapped up and did a shitload of loops around my chest and stomach, pinning me to the back of the chair.
And doing it all with this dopey grin on his face.
The sick bastard was getting off on it!
Obviously, I didn't hate it much either.
I sprouted wood the moment he tied my hands behind my back.
And then when he tied them off to the lower rung of the chair —
— basically insuring I wasn’t getting loose by myself —
— I ‘bout blew right then and there!
Good thing I was able to use that famous Merriman self-control to keep contained.
It’s easy, really.
Just picture dead puppies and over-botoxed cougars, then everything goes soft.
Josh got too into the roping.
That’s why he put us behind schedule.
That's why he's late.
That's why no cops yet.
Oh, and then he shuts out the lights and blasts the TV full volume before heading out for the ransom drop!
Sadistic bastard!
I HATE FRICKIN’ CNN!
Talk about torture — being trussed up for an hour in a dark motel room, listening to talking heads drone on about walls and swamps and how the whole world’s going to shit in a shoebox.
I just want the po-po to bust in and get me out of these ropes so I can grab a smoke and make the story legit with a few fake emotional interviews and then meet up with Josh at the rendezvous to divvy bills and get the party rolling again.
The rope has rubbed my wrists to hamburger.
And the gag tastes seriously nasty.
It’s like 90% drool by now.
Sigh.
The things I do for your love, Pop.
Heh. What “love”?
You love the ships and the freight and the maritime business bullshit.
You spend more time in the Bahamas than with your family in Boulder.
You never pay any attention to your only kid.
Not even when he screws up — which is pretty much always.
You can't be bothered.
You just get your dick lawyer to sweep my latest crisis under the rug and then send me a check to, what, prove you really care?
I just use the money to fuck up twice as bad the next time.
‘Course, when I came into my trust fund, and the party really got off the hook, lawyerman was like, “We’re going to need a bigger rug.”
That’s what finally got you.
You couldn’t ignore me any longer.
You said, “I don’t approve of your life choices, Bobby.”
(No duh, Pops, why you think I've been making these choices? To get your disapproval — any response at all, really.)
“It’s time to grow up.
From this moment on, the money is cut off.
Puff puff puff, teach you a lesson, swagger, swagger, swagger.
No further funds available until you can show me you’re serious about cleaning up your act.”
Well, how’s this for an act, Pop?
How’s this for getting serious?
Your baby boy’s been kidnapped by a pair of evil desperados!
And its gonna take ten million big ones this time to sweep it under the rug.
I’m sure it was Mom who convinced you to cough up the ransom.
At least someone in this pathetic family still loves me.
Face it.
I’m just another bad little rich kid with Daddy issues.
And, uggh, rope burn.
But this is going to work.
This is how you get blood from a stone.
This is how you coax the genie back out of the bottle.
This is how you get the EDM cranking, the alcohol flowing —
Was that a noise? At the door?
Hard to tell with the TV so —
Yes, they’re coming in.
Time to struggle and mpppphhhf my way to Oscar glory.
Wait.
It’s just one guy in the doorway.
Big guy, over six feet.
Powerful looking.
He’s stepping in and closing the door.
It’s too dark, I can’t see.
“Well, well. What have we here?”
That’s a dumb ass thing for a cop to say.
You know what you have here, idiot.
How else did you get here in the first place?
Now, get me the hell out of these ropes, I wanna feel my fingers again.
He’s checking the bathroom and the rest of the place.
Looking for the kidnappers, I guess.
Surprise, Clouseau, it’s just me.
Me and this gag and these ropes and this chair, and I want to get up now, please.
By the dim TV light, I see him walk over to the dresser.
Now he’s turning on the lamp.
Holy shit, he’s wearing a ski mask!
And that’s some kind of magnetic lock pick in his gloved hand.
He’s not here to rescue me…he’s here to rob me!
He’s got a bag.
He grabs my shit from the dresser.
Cell phone. A couple of loose tens and twenties.
That credit card we swiped from an old lady’s shopping cart so we could rent this room without it tracing back to us.
Fine.
Go ahead and rob my ass.
Joke’s on you, dude.
The cops’ll be here any minute.
Then what are you gonna do?
Looks like he’s finished with the shake down.
He’s placing the bag by the door.
You could still be the hero, man.
You could say you found me first, get a reward.
But then you’d have to explain how you got inside a locked room.
Yeah, those optics are pretty fucked.
What?
Why are you staring at me?
Why that weird look on your face?
“I heard the TV go on and saw your friend go out. I waited until he didn’t come right back. Then I answered the invitation.”
You think this is some kind of party, dickweed?
In case you failed to notice, I’m tied up over here.
“Sorry to interrupt your kinky little game.”
“My kinky — ”
No, this is, you don’t know what this is, moron.
Okay, you know what, I’m done with you, get the fuck out.
No, I mean, stay over there.
Stay on your side of the room.
“You like getting tied up? I can do a way better job than this.”
Okay, I see where this is going.
Look, you got what you came for, you can go now.
I’m working, see?
There’s this thing in motion.
“The sight of a good looking boi all helpless and tied — there's nothing hotter.”
Okay, hands to yourself, creeper.
Don't touch me there!
What, you can’t understand me behind this gag?
No means fucking no, dude.
“What are you doing with that other guy? He doesn't look like he can satisfy you.”
What the hell does that even —
Then — perfect timing — an update comes on the TV.
With my name and picture and the whole abduction story.
They call me a “rich kid/bad boy.” Talk about my drug arrests, my party lifestyle.
They also say my dad begrudgingly agreed to pay the ransom.
Ski Mask looks at the TV and then back at me.
And just like that, I’ve been screwed — by Wolf Fucking Blitzer.
“You’re the Merriman kid. From that shipping family. You’re Robert Jr., right? You’re Bobby. So this isn’t a game — you’re — ”
When your mouth stops running, I shoot you my best “guess who has shit for brains” look.
Took you long enough to catch on.
Wait.
Why are you doing that?
Why are you just walking and thinking and chewing on the thumb of your glove?
Now where are you going?
You left the bag with all my shit —
You’re back.
With another bag.
Get out from behind my chair.
What are you doing back there?
Hey, asshole, pay attention to me through my gag —
“WHAT ARE YOU DOING???”
“He’s gone to get the cash and probably let them know where to find you. Doesn't give me a lot of time.”
Time for what, dick?
Time for — ?
Hey, what’s happening back there?
Are you — untying me?
Shit, yaas, now we’re getting somewhere.
Ropes drop from my chest and stomach.
Now the one from the bottom rung is untied.
I’m free from the chair.
Oh, yeah, man, that feels sweet.
Get the gag next, tastes like I’ve been gargling a cesspool.
No, the gag — don’t lift me off the chair.
What are you — are you tossing me on the bed?
Jesus, man, easy!
Ooof!
Face first into a bunched-up pile of week-old bed sheets.
Why are you bringing that other bag over?
Ziiiiiiiip.
Ow! Don’t put my elbows together like that!
Why do —
Man, seriously, why do you have all that fucking rope in your bag?
And like you just read my mind —
“You never know if you might get surprised on a job. I always carry insurance. Lucky for you.”
I shake my head.
I’m not feeling particularly lucky right now, you sick, twisted —
Yowww!
I feel the pinch of the ropes wrapping up my elbows.
What the fuck?
That’s way tighter than Josh ever did with the ropes.
My elbow bones knock together.
That’s too tight!
My hands release.
Josh’s rope gets tossed on the bed.
Dude, thank you, those ropes around my wrists were —
What — are you tying them up again???
Oh, yes, let’s use your rope, ’cause your rope is soooo much better —
Shit.
It is better.
You’re using a ton of that stuff on my wrists.
I’m definitely not getting out of this on my own.
Your masked face brushes close to my ear.
“I have a cellar that’s out of the way. It’ll be the perfect place to keep you.”
I’m flipped on my back.
Oh, fuck.
There’s a huge tent at the center of my sweatpants.
Worst possible moment to pop wood.
You see it.
You grin.
It’s not like Josh’s grin.
Yours is — evil and terrifying, yes — but kind of — sexy — too.
Get your hands away from that, dude.
Don’t grab it!
What are you grabbing it for?
I’m done.
I’m scooting my ass away from that shit —
Don’t drag me back, don’t —
Now you’re tying my ankles.
On top of the old rope.
Holy shit that’s a lot of coils.
Then above and below my knees.
It pinches each time you pull the ends between my legs.
This is all Josh’s fault!
If he hadn’t been so caught up in the roping —
If he hadn’t made us both late —
I wouldn’t have to deal with Christian Grey The Robber, here.
Flipped back on my stomach.
My bound feet are brought up to my hands.
“ARRRRRRRGH!”
That fucking hurts!
With my knees bent, the muscles of my thighs press out against the rope around them.
Don’t hogtie me, dude.
Please don’t.
Please!
This is too much.
Too real.
I’ve let things go too far.
Okay, I’m ready for the cops now.
WHERE THE HELL ARE THE COPS?
Maybe they’re on the other side of the door.
Maybe they’ve just been waiting for a signal to enter —
“HEEEELLLLLLLP —- Mmmmphf!”
The sudden feel of a leather glove forced across my mouth.
“Shhhhh. Probably can't hear you over the TV. But let's make for certain.”
The bandana gag releases from the corners of my mouth.
I cough, stretch my jaws, try to get some fresh saliva flowing.
I speak in a shaky rasp.
“Look, dude, this isn’t what you think. It’s a scam. That guy you saw before, he went to get the money, yes, but he’s not — Mmmmphf!”
The wet bandana goes back in my mouth, filling the inside this time.
Shit, that tastes rank!
A fresh cloth gets packed in with it.
What the hell, dude?!?
Another bandana comes from the guy’s bag and ties around my head to keep in the other stuff.
So, this is what it’s like to be really gagged, huh?
Fucking intense.
“That guy is stupid. Ten million dollars? You're worth much more than that - "
Another bandana appears from your magical Mary Poppins bag.
Why the hell do you need another — ?
It ties wide and flat over the other bandana, sealing everything in even tighter.
Your hand grabs my ass.
You squeeze.
“— just maybe not all in cash.”
Aww, fuck!
You did it now.
You took things too far this time.
A roll of silver duct tape appears in your hand.
I roll my eyes.
Seriously, dude, I need a tape gag, too?
Schwaaack! Schwaaack! Schwaaack!
Tape wraps and tightens around my head.
Three rotations.
Riiiiiip!
Gloved hands smooth down the floppy end.
“Okay. Try now.”
Don't have to tell me twice.
I scream with all I’ve got.
“MMMMMMMMLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLPPPPPPHHHHHHHHHHHHFFFFF!!!”
The sound echoes in my ears but goes no further than my own head.
“That’ll do.”
The TV shuts off.
My ears, still pulsing from my scream fest, take in the vacuum of sound in the room.
Ziiiiiip!
The bag gets thrown near the door.
The dresser lamp clicks off.
Black.
After checking for prying eyes, you disappear outside with the bags.
I explode with full energy on the bed.
Grunt, groan, twist, pull, stretch, strain.
Holy shit, Josh should take tying lessons from this guy.
No way I'm getting loose from all these ropes.
Look at me.
Inescapably hogtied and fucking severely gagged on a cheap bed in a fleabag motel.
Then it hits me.
I really am being kidnapped!
It’s really real this time.
And I’ve never been harder in my life!!!
WHO THE FUCK IS THIS GUY???
The door squeaks open and closed.
Another item drops to the floor.
The lamp powers on again.
I can’t see what you’re doing down there.
Opening some kind of — is it a suitcase?
Ziiiip! Flaaap!
Why are you coming over here?
Zooooooow!
You reach under, push beneath the waistband of my sweats, and grab my rock hard cock.
It throbs in your gloved hand.
A whisper lands in my ear.
“I’m going to tie you up over and over again. We’re going to have some good times, aren’t we, boi?”
Well, it doesn't exactly sound like it would suck...
You run gloved fingers through my hair.
“Listen up, my ‘rich kid/bad boy’…”
Your fingers go into a fist, grab a handful of hair, and pull.
Fuck!
“…it’s time to pay for all that bad boy behavior of yours.”
I look up to see the evil glint in your eyes, and think to myself:
“See that, Bobby?
That’s Karma finally come for your ass.”
The hair gets released.
I lift from the bed.
And drop into the big ass suitcase.
As you strap me in with elastic belts, you coo in my ear.
“Once I break you and you’ve learned your lesson, I might sell you back to your family. Or to the highest bidder. Who knows? Have to get a little payment for what I stole.”
I’m secured now in the big black case.
“Until then, let’s see how many painful positions you can endure. My cellar has lots of beams and hooks and pulleys. And extra toys to use on you. You're going to be kept in absolute agony, boi.”
Fucking Amazon.
You can get anything delivered to your door these days.
“One last touch.”
Another bandana pulls from your pocket.
You stretch it across my eyes and tie the blindfold securely in place.
Fuck!
That’s like the cherry on top!!!
Dead puppies…dead puppies…waxy-faced cougars…
“Check out time. Better go. Cops will be here any minute.”
I feel the lid close me in the case.
Ziiiiiiiiip.
The world tilts upright.
The motel door opens with a click.
As my kidnapper wheels me from the room, the last thing on my mind is this:
“If I ever survive this, if I ever see freedom again, I’m hunting down Josh —
— and I’m either fucking killing him right there on the spot —
— or kissing the bastard full on the lips for always being late.”
end
Thanks to Lk3869 for the amazing depiction of Bobby's plight...
