George's Many Kidnappings (various/m)

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George's Many Kidnappings (various/m)

Post by BDBrit »

Hi, everyone, I've finally plucked up the effort to finish one of my ideas. I wanted to try something a bit new and whimsical so I hope you enjoy.

George's Many Kidnappings: Number 9

"Fan out and check the whole building. There could be more of them. Be vigilant; they are likely armed."

The voice on the police radio echoed around the abandoned building. As the sound reached George, he felt the hand clamped over his mouth tighten, pushing the knot of the bandanna deeper between his teeth. A barely audible "Gnh," left his mouth in response. The man continued to hold him tightly and, with his other arm wrapped tightly around George's chest, wiggled his wrist to ensure that George remembered the pistol he was holding and what he could potentially do with it.

George closed his eyes and focused on breathing slowly through his nose. He wiggled his wrists gently but the ropes binding them behind his back did not budge. His arms were pinned to his torso by a rope tied around his chest and his legs were bound together at his ankles and knees. He'd had worse, although the gun was new.

"All clear here," came a nearby voice. The hand over his mouth tightened again. George had been in this position before. He never understood why the police seemed so unconcerned with rescuing a kidnapped eight year-old boy. Sure, this armed gang had been responsible for multiple home invasions and armed robberies but you'd think that rescuing the literal kidnapped child would take precedence over recovering the stolen goods.

Then again, this came as no surprise to George. The police had never been much good since the third time he was kidnapped. At first, they seemed to suggest that he actually liked being kidnapped and that he wasn't being held against his will. Then they seemed to react as if they weren't aware of him being kidnapped. When the gang was breaking down his door, he was able to get to the phone and call the police. The conversation with the police operator went as follows:
"What's your name, honey?" the operator had said kindly.
"George. George Holdaway," he had replied nervously.
"Uh huh," she had said much more casually.
"What should I do?" George said, the panic rising.
"You need to calm down," came a more stern voice. "It's very important that you try to hide-"
"I'm already hiding," George interrupted.
"Not you! The things you don't want them to steal. It will also slow them down and give the police more time to save them."
"But what if they find me? Or try to take me?"
"Oh, honey, that won't happen. Just focus on the things you really need to keep safe and everything will be alright."

George wondered whether the police even knew he'd been kidnapped. Or cared. How many times had he been kidnapped at this point? Once when he was six, twice when he was seven, three times when he was eight. This was the third time since he turned nine. At the rate he was going, he'd be kidnapped every other day before long. As he was pondering this, he realised that the police seemed to have gone.

The man let out a sight and released his grip on George, who fell to the floor. "Mmph!" he grunted as he landed on the hard ground. "MMMMPHHHH! MMMPHHHH!" he cried, hoping the police would hear him and return.

"They won't hear you," the man said.
"Mmmphh-mmmphhh!" George begged, his eyes filling with tears.
"The puppy dog eyes won't work on me, kid," he said gruffly. "I really don't care what happens to you."
"Mmph!" George sighed. This was a nice change of pace. Most of his previous kidnappers had been very interested in what happened to him, usually for the worse. Whilst the man paced around the room, planning his next move, George rolled onto his side and tried to tuck his legs up. He tried to bring his wrists under his ankles and in front of him, but he didn't have enough movement in his arms to allow for this. "Gnhhh!" he sighed as he relaxed again.
"You're not getting out of those ropes until I'm outta here and past that police cordon," the man said.
"Mmph!" George grunted angrily. He'd been stuck in these ropes and gagged since at least 7pm the previous night. Judging by the warmth in the room, it was probably about midday now. His white T-shirt was covered in dirt from the floor he'd spent the night on, and his shorts felt hot and sweaty. At least the gang hadn't used his socks to gag him. They were definitely going to be sweaty now.
The lone kidnapper used his foot to roll George onto his back and put his foot on his chest. "Now, the rumours going around the criminal underground is that the police don't notice when you've been kidnapped. They even say that you like it."
"Mmmphhh..." George sighed and rolled his eyes at this. "GNH!" he groaned as the man put more pressure on his chest.
"I can't see any way out of here. We're pretty surrounded. But, if I carry you out, maybe they'll think we're just playing a game.
George didn't know which was stupider: that this was his actual plan or that such rumours were widespread enough to be believable.

George watched as the man took of his jacket, which had his gang's symbol plastered across its back and swap it out his a more subtle one. He removed his balaclava, revealing a brown-haired, clean shaven man in his early thirties. He tucked his pistol under his jacket and hoisted George up and over his shoulder in a fireman's carry. He crept towards the entrance, before straightening up and casually walking towards the police cordon.
"Good afternoon, sir..." The policeman paused for a second to consider the bound figure draped over this unknown man's shoulders. As George lifted his head and met his eyes, his face softened. "George," he said, nodding.
"MMMPHHHH! MMMMPPHHHHH! MMMPHHHHHH!" George screamed and struggled hard, nearly causing the man to drop him.
"Woah, there!" came another policeman's voice. "Careful, George, you could hurt yourself if you land on your head." He ran up and help the man regain his balance.
"MMPHHH! MMMPHHH! MMPH-MMPH-MMMPHH!?" George bellowed. The knot between his teeth forced his mouth to stay open, making it hard to form coherent syllables.
"C'mon, champ!" the man said in his most friendly tone. "Let's get you out of here. It's dangerous, what with armed gang members about." He cheerily walked past the police.
"MMMPHHH! MMMPHHHH!! MMMPHHHH!!!" George cried as he was carried away and through some bushes.

After what must have been about twenty minutes of being carried through the trees, they arrived next to the river, where the man set George down. "I can't believe that worked," he said.
"Mmmpphhh..." George sighed.
"Here's what's going to happen," the man said, ignoring him. "I'm not going to shoot you. I don't want to risk my luck so I'm going to leave you here. I'm sure someone will find you before dark. Try not to fall into the river in the meantime."
"MMPHHH!" George cried. He rolled onto he back and waved his wrists up at the man. "MMPHHH MMMPPHH!!!"
"Sorry, I don't have the time to untie you, and I don't care anyway." He ran off before George could argue, not that he could really argue anyway.

George tried the ropes again. They still held firm. The ground beneath him was muddy. He needed to find something more solid to rub the ropes against, and he certainly was not going to try to loosen his gag against it. Maybe a tree would do? He shifted his weight until he was on his knees. 'Come on,' he thought. 'You've done this maneouvre before.' He leaned back and placed his weight onto his toes, before carefully trying to stand. He fell back onto his knees "Mmmphh!" George grunted. He tried again. There was an awkward moment where he could have fallen either way, before me managed to straighten up.

Right, time to find a tree. He started hopping towards the nearest one, before his feet slid out underneath him and he fell onto his back. "MMMPHHHH!" he cried. He rolled back onto his stomach to take the pressure off his wrists. They stopped hurting quickly. At least the landing was relatively soft. After repeating the standing up manouvre, he started hopping more carefully, before he reached the tree. There was a knot in the trunk at just the right height for his wrists, so he turned around and leant against it. Once he was balanced, he began lifting his wrists up and down against the knot in the hope that it would wear away the tight ropes. "Mmmphhh. Mmmphhh mmphh!" he grunted, begging the ropes to snap.

*Crack!*

A nearby twig snapped. Someone must be nearby. "MMMMPHHHH! MMMPHHH MMMMPHHHH!" George cried. Suddenly, a large figure appeared in front of him.
"Need a hand?" came a gruff voice.
"MMMPHHH!" George was relieved to see that it was Mr. X., the private investigator his parents always hired when the police didn't rescue him.
"Hang on," he said, untying the bandanna and pulling it out of his mouth.
"Ahhhhh," George sighed. "At last."
"Police ignore you again?"
"Yeah, I don't get it."
"Neither do I, kid. It's not natural." He ruffled George's hair, which never failed to produce a smile. "Now, let's get you out of those ropes and out of here." His voice retained its gruff quality, but there was definitely a warmth to it as well.
"I was close to getting myself out," he said, with a hint of pride.
"Perhaps if you'd kept that up for another twenty minutes!" X laughed. "Anyway, turn around and I'll have you free in no time."
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Post by Shotrow »

I love the idea of a boy who's just cursed to be kidnapped over and over. Will there be more?
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Check out my stories on deviantart: https://www.deviantart.com/shotrow
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Post by BDBrit »

Shotrow wrote: 1 year ago I love the idea of a boy who's just cursed to be kidnapped over and over. Will there be more?
That is very much the plan. I like the idea of telling the story out of order as well so some chapters will focus on future kidnappings and others will look at past ones.
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Post by Xtc »

It's good to see you writing again. Keep it up.
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Post by blackbound »

This is a great idea for a series!
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Post by Veracity »

Looking forward to more.
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Post by BDBrit »

I'm delighted to see that you enjoyed the first part. Thank you [mention]Veracity[/mention], [mention]blackbound[/mention] and [mention]Xtc[/mention] for your comments. I've decided to split this part into two parts. This first part deals with George's next kidnapping and how it happened. The next part will look at what the man has planned for George.

George's Many Kidnappings: Number 10


"George, the school is starting to notice that you are missing an increasing number of days at school," his teacher, Mr. Biggs, said to him.

"Believe me, sir," George replied, "it's not something I want."

"And another thing," he continued, "is that no one in charge of monitoring attendance can tell me why you have missed this time but since the
start of the year, you've seemed less happy. You only talk when you absolutely have to and seem to be putting in the bare minimum."

"I don't know what to tell you, sir. You won't believe me anyway."

"George," he said kindly, "I will listen to and take seriously whatever you want to tell me. Now, is there a reason why you're not yourself?"

George paused to think. What did he have to lose? If he told the truth, the curse would just cause him to brush it off, like the police have been doing. Still, if he explained it well enough, it might just get through. His parents took it seriously, as did Mr. X. Maybe people who care about him would be able to bypass the curse. Who better to test this on than his teacher? "No one takes me seriously," he said finally. "It's like I'm cursed."

"It can feel very isolating when you're struggling, like no-one will believe you," Mr. Biggs said. "I can tell you this: things will continue to feel that way until you share them. I can't promise that sharing will magially fix everything, but it may be the start of things getting better."

"You promise you'll believe me?" George said, his voice wavering slightly.

"Of course," Mr. Biggs said reassuringly.

"Ok..." George took a deep breath and looked down at his feet. "I was kidnapped multiple times by strangers and held prisoner."

Mr. Biggs said nothing.

George looked up. "Sir?" he ventured.

Mr. Biggs was stood still, his face seemingly frozen.

"Sir....?"

"You were..." he began, his face straining with effort. It was like his brain was rejecting the information it had been given.

George started sounding out the word. "k-i-d-"

Mr. Biggs copied, "k-i-d-"

"n-a-p-"

"n-a-p-" his face straining.

"p-e-d."

"p-e-d," the final sound coming out thick and heavy.

"Kidnapped," George said.

"Kidnapped," Mr. Biggs mimicked. "Wait, kidnapped!?" he said, suddenly sounding very alarmed.

"Yes," George said. "I told you; it's like I'm cursed."


"But, but, but, why wasn't it on the news? Why didn't the police but out a bulletin? Surely they'd at least have come in and interviewed us to help?"

"It's part of the curse!" George insisted. "No one believes me! It's happened nine times six I was six and the police haven't helped since the second!"

"It all does sound quite unbelievable-" Mr. Biggs began.

"You promised!" George said quickly. "You do believe, don't you, sir?"

"I- um-" Mr. Biggs hesitated, before seeing the seriousness of George's expression. "Yes. I trust you."

George leapt up and punched the air. "FINALLY!" Before he could think about what he was doing, he had wrapped both arms around Mr. Biggs and was hugging him tightly. "Thank you," he said softly.

Mr. Biggs patted him softly on the head.



As George let go, the school's secretary appeared in the doorway. "Ah, George Holdaway, just who I was looking for."

"What do you need with George?" Mr. Biggs asked.

"His dad's here to collect him," she said. "He's got a dentist appointment. Bring him up to the office, would you? I've got other messages to deliver." With that, she walked off quickly.

George immediatly stood behind Mr. Biggs. "No," he said. "I don't have a dentist appointment, and my dad is away at work. He'll be back in two days."

"Sounds suspicious," he replied. "I'll speak to the headteacher. Get some assistance."

"There's no point," George said. "It's how the curse works. No-one will believe you."

"Well then, I'll just have to turn him away myself."



George followed Mr. Biggs to the school office. There was an entrance vestibule which locked to stop people who were not supposed to be there from getting into the school. Inside this space stood a tall man wearing all black and a ski mask over his head. George stayed out of sight whilst Mr. Biggs opened the window the speak to him.

"Hello, sir, can I help you at all?" he said trying to sound pleasant.

"Umm... yes," the man replied, doing a very bad job of sounding unsuspicious. "I'm here for G-George. He's got a dentist appointment."

Suddenly, Mr. Biggs' body language shifted, like he was letting his guard down completely. "Ah, of course. He's right here. I'll just open the door."

"What are you doing?" George hissed. "He's NOT my dad!"

Mr. Biggs' immediately snapped back to his more alert mode. "Right," he said.

"No, I'm his dad's best friend's second cousin's co-worker's brother," the man said. "That lady didn't let me finish."

"Sounds good to me," Mr. Bigg's said, his hand getting so close to the door release button that George had to leap forward to grab his wrist.

"He's not even trying to hide why he's here! Look at his clothes! He's even holding a roll of duct tape!" George protested.

"I'm sorry!" Mr. Biggs said. "For some reason, I just believe him."

"It's the curse!" George realised. "You're not immune to it. You need to get away from here!"

"We both do!" Mr. Biggs said. "You need to be kept away from him!"

"Could you just let me in first?" the stranger asked kindly.

"Yes, no problem," Mr. Biggs replied immediately.

"NO!" George shouted.

"Of course, sorry," Mr. Biggs said.

"Please?" the man said.

"Right away," came Mr. Biggs' voice.

"WAIT!" George said.

"My head!" Mr Biggs said weakly, clutching his head. "This is maddening!" He fell to his knees. "George, RUN! I'll find a way to get you out!"

"But-"

"Do as I say!" he said sharply. "The curse is too powerful. I'm much more use to you conscious than not!"

George hesitated.

"Or you can come with me," the man offered.

"Good idea!" Mr. Biggs said cheerfully before catching George's eye. "I'm sorry," he said meekly. "Now run!"



George ran as fast as he could. He heard the gentle buzz of the door being unlocked and the sound of the door moving over the carpet. If he could just run the man in a circle, he could get back to Mr. Biggs and get away before the man could reactivate the curse. He just needed to get to-

He ran right into the secretary. "Forgotten something?" she asked, blocking his way.

"Whatever it is, it can wait until I bring you back later," me man said, appearing behind him. "You'll be back for the afternoon. If we're quick, you might even get back before the end of lunchtime."

"See, no problems," the secretary said.

"But-" George tried.

"Right, that's enough now, George," the man said more forcefully. "You're coming with me, after I make sure you can't get yourself in any trouble."



George knew what this meant. Before he could reply, the man placed a strong hand on his shoulder and forced him to the floor. "Aghh!" he grunted as the man put his knee on his back and forced his wrists together behind it. Quickly, he wrapped several layers of the tape around his wrists, before grabbing his elbows and pushing them together as close as they would go, before applying more tape. He then sat on George's wrists, facing his legs and taped his ankles together, before doing the same above and below his knees.

The secretary must have wandered back to the office, because George heard Mr. Biggs' voice get closer. "George," he was saying firmly, "I'm disappointed to see you behaving like this." The curse was obviously back.

"Not.... Ugh... fighting!" George forced out. "Being... Gah!... Kidnapped!"

This seemed to spark recognition in Mr. Biggs. "I can't fight it!" he said. "What should I do?"

The man got off Geroge and spun him onto his back, before peeling the tape. George had to think fast! Whatever he said would just be
forgotten after this guy denied it. But maybe - maybe there was a way to work with the curse? What had he said? The man put his hand behind George's head and lifted it up... He was going to the... dentist! "Tell my mum that I'm at the dent- MMPPPPHHHH!" he managed to get out, as the man wrapped the tape around and around his head, sealing his mouth closed.

Mr. Biggs' body language did not change. "I'll do that," he said cheerfully.

"No need," the man said. "I'll have him back by the afternoon."

Mr Biggs said nothing.

The man wrapped the tape around George's waist and around his wrists, binding them to his back, and repeated the same in the middle of his torso, in line with his elbows. Then he used the last of the tape as a blindfold, again wrapping it around George's head at eye level.



George felt himself being lifted up and carried by the man. He must have been sideways to the man's chest. "Mmmmphhh..." he sobbed. Before they went too far, he felt the man stop.

"See you in about an hour, George," Mr. Biggs' voice came.

George felt a reassuring hand placed on his head. He desperately wanted to tell him to phone his mum. Just in case the message wasn't clear. "Mmmphh, mmpphh mph mmph!" he managed.

"See ya!" the man said cheerfully.

George felt the outside air on his face as he was carried out of the school. "Don't fret," the man said. "You're not going back to school for a long time."

"MMMPHHH!" George said indignantly, trying to shake himself free of the man's strong grip.

"You shouldn't worry," he continued. "Where we're going, they love the sight of a man in uniform! Or a boy in uniform in your case!"

George froze. He was not really sure what the man meant, but it did not sound good. What was he going to do with him? It was not long before he heard the sound of a car unlocking and a door being opened. He felt himself being gently lowered into what must have been the boot of the car, before it was closed on top of him. Moments later, he heard the gentle sound of an engine being started and felt the car start to move away.

To be continued
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Post by Veracity »

Love it. I always enjoy a tug with a sense of humor!
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Post by harveygasson »

This is a really cool idea for a multiple kidnapping story, great work so far
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Post by The slave »

Very great start i love it
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Post by BDBrit »

Right, finally had enough time to write the next part. It ended up being longer than I expected, so expect a third part to this kidnapping. Then I can explore a different scenario in George's interesting life. I hope you enjoy!


George's Many Kidnappings: Number 10 - Part 2

George twisted in the tight space until he was resting on his side, with his back to the door of the car boot. The boot itself was too small for him to lie completely flat, forcing him to keep his knees bent. He hoped the car ride would not be too long, or he'd be feeling very sore from being cramped up... again! He moved his ankles towards his hands and tried to pick at the tape binding them. He managed to find the end and peel it back by about a milimetre, but the tape binding his wrists made it impossible to twist them and get it any further undone.

"Mmph!" he grunted in frustration. He tried shuffling closer to the edge of the boot and tried to see if he could find something to grab and open the boot. He pressed his back up against it and moved his hands across it as far as he could reach, which was frustratingly not very far at all. Next, he tried rolling onto his back and lifting his feet to press against the boot. He tried pushing as hard as he could, before then trying to kick it repeatedly. Unfortunately, his small frame combined with the restricted space made it impossible to exert much force at all. George wondered what the point in getting kidnapped so many times if it didn't help him to get any better at escaping.

The car ran over a potholl. "MMMPH!" George cried in surprise as he bumped up against the ceiling. He tried to think of any other tips he'd heard about escaping from being tied up. All of the books he'd read and videos he'd watched always hinged on the kidnappers making some kind of mistake, like just tying his wrists and ankles, which made it very easy to slip your wrists under your feet and in front of you. Mr. X. had even kindly given him a few escape tutorials but his tying up technique was never as good as the various kidnappers'. He remembered his advice about making sure the blood still flows to the extremities, and gave his fingers and toes a few wiggles to make sure he could still feel them, which he could. This was a small comfort.

Suddenly, he remembered something important. He wanted to say, "Ah ha!" but it came out more as a "Mph mph!" Mr. X. used a word to describe how rope can be tied. Something beginning with s... signed, sealed, singed, sinched. Cinched! C, not s. But what did it mean again? Something about how ropes are tied off in the middle to tighten them? Yes, that was it! The tape was just wrapped around him and not cinched, meaning it was slightly looser. He tried moving his ankles up and down. It was not very effective but he did feel the tape being pulled slightly. If he could do this for long enough and with enough force, it may just loosen it enough to help.

He decided that it would be best to focus on his wrists. He tried moving them up and down, parallel to the way the tape was tied. He let out the occasional, "Mmphh," of effort. Progress was slow, but he was able gradually to make the tape stretch out every so slightly, not enough to free himself - yet - but enough to reduce the pressure. He had no idea how long he had been at it, or how much longer he had left of this journey. Would it be enough?

Unfortunately, George had his answer not too long later, as he felt the car pull to a stop. 'You fool!' he thought to himself. 'You should have been keeping track of time! Mr. X. always said try to estimate how long you were travelling for as it may help you to get help!' His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of footsteps outside the car and the boot being unlocked. "MMPPPHHHH!" he cried defiantly as he heard the boot being opened. He shook his head forcefully and wiggled to communicate his objections. This did not do much to stop the strong hands from grabbing him and lifting him up. He fell quiet in the hope of trying to hear what sort of place he was in, but there were no distinctive sounds, aside from a door being pushed open. 'That narrows it down,' he thought sarcastically. 'I can confirm that I am being taken somewhere with a door. This'll really help someone find me.' He cursed the tape covering his eyes.

He was dropped on the ground and turned over several times, presumably so his captor could check his handiwork and see if he had made any progress in getting loose. At least that was George's guess once he heard him speak. "Someone really does know what he's doing!" the man sounded impressed. "No matter, the tape was just a temporary measure. I find rope to be much more secure, don't you?"

"MMMPHHH! MMMPHHHH!" George shouted. This was not good.

"Here's what's going to happen," the man said firmly. "I'm going to cut off this duct tape over your arms. You are not going to fight or resist, or there will be consequences. When that's done, I will tie you up properly with rope."

George said nothing. He lay still, forcing the man to lift him into a sitting position. He kept still as he heard and felt scissors being used to trim the tape binding his wrists and arms together and binding them to his torso. In no time at all, his upper body was entirely free of tape. Suddenly, adrenaline kicked in. George, sensing his opportunity for freedom, took a swing in the direction where he thought the man had been. After connecting with nothing, he started swinging wildly in the hope of knocking the man down. "MMMPHHH!" he cried with each attempted blow.

George's options were pretty hopeless here. He could not see with this stupid tape covering his eyes, which made it very hard to fight away his captor, but - if her stopped to remove the blindfold - he'd be pinned down again. As his hand swung down again, he felt his wrist get grabbed. Instinctively, he started pulling away and twisting it. This managed to free his wrist, but the hand managed to hang onto the sleeve of his jumper. He felt the man grab his other wrist, which resulted in the same thing happening. He swung his legs hard and pulled backwards, which must have caught the man by surprise as he fell backwards with an, "Oof!"

"MMPHH!" George grunted. The man had not let go of his jumper, causing it to be pulled up over his head and right off. He fell back to the floor and started swinging his arms wildly again. "MMPHH! MMMPHH! MMPHHH!" he shouted. He felt the man's hand grab his school shirt squarely in the middle of his chest. He grabbed the man's wrist with both of his hands and tried to pull it off. He started wiggling and struggling as hard as he could whilst he did this. The man gripped his shirt so tightly that George could not budge him. Instead, he heard a couple of popping sounds as the buttons on his shirt broke off from the force of his struggling. "MMPHHH! MMMMMPHHH! MMMPHH!"

"Enough!" the man said firmly. He knelt down with his legs either side of George and leant on him with his full weight.

"MMPHHH!" George let out, before he ran out of energy to resist. "Mmmph..." he sighed limply.

"Let's get you sorted out," he said. "Any more trouble from you and you'll be sorry."

George let out a small whimper. He was forcefully turned over onto his front and had his arms roughly pulled behind his back. He felt them being slowly tightened together as the rope was expertly tied around them. When Geroge thought he was done, he felt it tighten that little bit further as the ropes were cinched between his wrists. He felt the man's weight lift off him, presumably to get more rope. George tried to search for the knot with his fingers, to no avail. "MMPH!" he cried with surprise as he was turned suddenly back onto his back and forced into a sitting position again. Once again, his arms were sealed to his torso as the man wrapped more rope around his arms and chest. He felt his half-open shirt being pulled closed again as the ropes tightened around him and were cinched off again.

George tested his bindings. He could not move his arms at all, aside from being able to bend them slightly so his wrists moved away from his back. Slightly. Noticing this, the man said, "Looks like you've still got some movement. Let's fix that," he sounded a bit too sinister for George. He felt a new rope being wrapped around his wrists and waist, before being cinched off between them, sealing his wrists against his back. "What to do with this spare length?" the man said playfully. "Ah! I know!" Without warning he pulled it through George's legs as tightly as he could and pulled it up to the rope wrapped around his waist. He tied it off as tightly as possible, forcing the rope to give George a rather uncomfortable wedgie.

"MMMPHHH!" George protested. He'd never been tied quite like this before.

"Next time, don't try to attack your carer," the man said. "Now, don't give me any more trouble." He turned his attention to George's legs. Instead of removing all of the duct tape and then tying them again, he removed one piece of tape at a time, starting with his ankles. He rolled George's school trousers up slightly so he could tie the rope around his bare ankles, before tying it above and below his knees and at his thighs, ensuring they were all tightly cinched. "Let's get that nasty tape off your face as well," the man said mockingly.

"Mmmphh..." George sighed as the tape was unwound from his mouth. He knew his chance to talk would be limited so it was not worth begging for freedom. No. He needed information. "What do you want with me," he said, trying to remain calm and serious.

"What?" the man said, slightly disappointed. "You're not going to cry and beg me to let you go."

"I've done this before..." George said. "It never works. You wouldn't have done..." he tried to wiggle his wrists to demonstrate, "...this if you were going to let me go."

"Smart kid," he replied. "You seem to know what you're doing."

"My teacher always says information is power," George said. "Gotta get as much as I can. Where are we?"

"That sap? I guess he isn't as dumb as he seemed. He's not going to help you now. The curse is too powerful for him."

"So you DO know about this curse?" George said. "Who told you? What else do you know?"

"All I know," he replied, picking up a bandanna, "is that you're going to help me get what I want. And I'm not risking this by talking about some curse. I'll leave that blindfold on. Can't have you finding out too much. Now, open wide. You're going to help me get what I want."

"And wha-MMPH!" George's question was interrupted as the bandanna was pushed into his mouth. "MMPHH!" he groaned as he tried to use his tongue to fight against the hand pushing the whole bandanna into his mouth. "Mmmphh..." he sighed when the bandanna was fully in, forcing his mouth to stay open. He felt tape once again being wrapped around his head, sealing the bandanna in. When it was done, he tested his voice to see how quiet it was. "Mmmphh!" Not very loud at all.

"Ok, then," the man said. "We've got business ahead of us." He picked George up again. "Ready for another car ride? I'll let you sit up front this time!"

George knew this wasn't going to end well. He just had to hope that Mr. Biggs had managed to circumvent the curse and call his mum. She would know what had happened and contact Mr. X. He just had to put up with this until he got here. "MMMMMPHHHHH!" he cried.
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Post by alkaid_ »

poor george...

but if he was in his 10th kidnapping... well, he just have enjoy his predicament and take it like a man.

looks like that misterius dude who take his turn dont have bad and evil motives with lil george... and as soon as mr x know about a new kidnapping george gonna be rescued
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Post by Smythdean »

The poor boy.
Tight tight bonds
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Post by harveygasson »

Wow another unfortunate situation George finds himself in, looking forward to seeing what happens next
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Post by squirrel »

Looks like George will get into some serious troubles... I wish I could get a curse like that :)
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Thank you, everyone, for the kind comments and interest in George's exploits. This is only a shorter part but wraps up this kidnapping. Let me know whether you want to read about George's next kidnapping next, or an earlier one.

George's Many Kidnappings: Number 10 - Part 3

George could not help but feel strangley exposed. Here he was, tightly tied up, blindfolded and gagged, being carried over the shoulder of a strange man. From the various voices coming from all around him, he could tell that his kidnapper was stood in a line at a bank. This was too weird. It was one thing for a small number of police officers to ignore him; it was quite another for large numbers of people to see him like this and do and say NOTHING. Hello? Could they not see the ropes binding his limbs in place? The rope giving him a tight wedgie? The duct tape wrapped around his head? The fact that his shirt was partially ripped open? Could they not hear is muffled cries for help?

He raised his head in the direction of where he sensed the person in the line behind him. "MMPHH! MMMPH-MMMPHH!" he cried.
He heard the cooing sounds of a baby.
"MMPPHH! MMMMPPPPHHH!" he shouted again.
The baby giggled. George felt tiny fingertips brushing over his nose.
"MMPHH!" he tried to get the parent's attention.
Nothing. George had always thought waiting in lines was boring but surely it would not make grown adults this braindead?
"MMPHHHH!" he tried again.
Silence, but for the sound and feeling of the line moving.
George decided to try his luck with a different strategy. He started thrashing about as best he could and shouting as loudly as possible. "MMMMMMMMMMMPPPPPPPHHHHH! MMMMMMMPPPPPPHHHHHH!"
"Woah there!" came a gruff voice.
"MMPH!?" George said, slightly shocked.
"Sir, keep that boy under control," the voice said. "The bank doesn't tolerate unruly behaviour."
"No problem," the kidnapper said, before giving George a firm pat on the backside to get the message across.
"Mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm," George let off the longest, most sarcastic sigh he could muster.

He decided to stay quiet for the rest of the time. Perhaps he would have a better time if he let it go smoothly. Very slowly, the line moved forwards one person at a time. Did banks just enjoy making people wait inordinate lengths of time? Open another window for service, for heaven's sake! The voice of the bank employee gradually became clearer, until George was relieved to hear that they were next!
"Hello, how can I help you?"
"MMMMPHHH!" George cried, trying to swing his head around to face him.
"Atta-boy, Champ!" the man said encouragingly. "Y'know, I have a little boy myself."
"He's a champ alright," the kidnapper said. "Anyway, I need your help. You see, George here would like to make a withdrawal from the bank's vault."
"Ok, sir, and how much would George like me to withdraw?"
"About two million in unmarked bills ought to do the trick. Otherwise, he won't be able to go home."
"MMPH!?" George cried in shock. This man wanted to use him as leverage to rob a bank? And it was working!?
"That won't be a problem. Wait right here, sir."
"MMMPHHHH!" It was working! The curse continued to baffle him. If he could be used to rob a bank, what else could criminals do with him?

Absolutely nobody batted an eyelid whilst the kidnapper waited to receive his withdrawal. Aside from the kidnapper occasionally adjusting his position, nothing of note happened. A small voice soon spoke.
"Would you like some assistance taking your withdrawal to your vehicle?" she said.
"George would appreciate that," the kidnapper said. "He can't wait for his ransom!"
The woman chuckled. "Right away, sir, just point me in the right direction."

Some time later, George found himself being dropped somewhere outside. The kidnapper said something about his ransom being paid and having a plane to catch, before leaving pretty quickly. George's only hope was that someone would find him and untie him. He wished that stupid wedgie rope wasn't there. It made it a nightmare to try to free himself without the discomfort. 'C'mon, Mr. Biggs,' George thought, 'I know you told my mum; I just know it!'

"There he is!" came a familiar voice.
"MMMPHHH!" George cried with relief. It was Mr. X.
"Your teacher said you'd gone to the dentist," he said. "Bit weird. Normally they just act like nothing happened at all."
"Mph- thanks," George said. "I found a way around the curse! I told him to say that instead of calling the police! It worked!" He was beaming proudly as he said this... Until the tape was ripped off his eyes. "Ow!"
"Sorry, I kinda figured you'd be used to that."
"Hey!"
"Perhaps I should meet with this teacher. See if he can help us. In the meantime, let's get you home and you can tell me everything that happened."
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Post by alkaid_ »

well...

this ended so easy for george... just his parents lost 2 million bucks...

i thinik that dude wanna something more, because the kidnapper sayed something about kiddos kidnapped and tied in school uniform
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Post by BDBrit »

alkaid_ wrote: 11 months ago well...

this ended so easy for george... just his parents lost 2 million bucks...

i thinik that dude wanna something more, because the kidnapper sayed something about kiddos kidnapped and tied in school uniform
That comment may have an impact on future kidnappings. Being blindfolded the whole time, George has no idea what else the man was doing, especially at his hideout...
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Post by alkaid_ »

BDBrit wrote: 11 months ago
alkaid_ wrote: 11 months ago
That comment may have an impact on future kidnappings. Being blindfolded the whole time, George has no idea what else the man was doing, especially at his hideout...
wow!!!

thats sound interesting!!!! ;) ;) :) ;)
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Post by squirrel »

This story is getting better and better with every chapter! Great work, [mention]BDBrit[/mention] 8-)
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Post by Shotrow »

BDBrit wrote: 11 months ago Thank you, everyone, for the kind comments and interest in George's exploits. This is only a shorter part but wraps up this kidnapping. Let me know whether you want to read about George's next kidnapping next, or an earlier one.
My vote goes for earlier. It might be fun to see him when he's more innocent and less cynical about his condition. Great series, I'm interested to see more.
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Post by BDBrit »

Thanks for the lovely comments. I've decided to write about an earlier kidnapping. I've finished the build up to it so I hope to have it finished this week. Giving myself a deadline should also motivate me to finish it.
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Post by alkaid_ »

BDBrit wrote: 10 months ago Thanks for the lovely comments. I've decided to write about an earlier kidnapping. I've finished the build up to it so I hope to have it finished this week. Giving myself a deadline should also motivate me to finish it.
you talking about a deadline???

what do you think about tomorow night ;) ;) ;)???
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Post by BDBrit »

Ok, apologies for the delay. This kidnapping was going to be just one part but it ended up being longer than I anticipated. Here's the first part. Let me know what you think about it and what you think might happen to George next.

George's Many Kidnappings: Number 4 - Part 1

On the week after his eighth birthday, George found himself walking down the street near to his house. He did not much like being out alone, not since he'd been kidnapped. You might think that his parents would be keener to keep him within their sight at all times but his dad had put it succintly when he said, "What are the chances of you being kidnapped a fourth time? The odds are astronomical."

His parents' seeming lack of concern was one thing that bothered George. The other thing was that the police had not been able to find him last time. They had to use the services of some weird private detective who called himself Mr. X. to find him. They had successfully rescued him the first two times but would they be able to if it ever happened again? Anyway, he decided not to worry about it too much. His dad was right: no-one can be kidnapped that many times, can they?

At any rate, he knew where he was going and who would be there. Mr. La Fleur ran an independent fashion boutique and often asked local people to model his designs. He had phoned George's parents saying he'd be perfect to test out his new designs for boys. George arrived outside the boutique and saw a sign in the door - 'closed' it read.

This was strange. He had definitely got the time right. Perhaps he could get in through the back? He made his way to the back door which was wide open. "Hello," he called in.

"George, is that you?" a voice called back. Mr La Fleur may have had a French name but he was most certainly not French. His preferred to keep his actual homeland unknown and his accent seemed to shift across the entire European contintent from sentence to sentence.

"It's me," George replied. Mr La Fleur had never bothered him. He had always been this way.

"Ah, good. Close the door behind you. It'll get too cold otherwise. I'm in here - follow my voice!"

George did as instructed and soon found his way into a nearby room, which La Fleur had set up as his photo studio. It looked rather professional - proper backdrop, cameras and tripods and those bright lights that flash brightly. "Um, hi," he said awkwardly.

"Ah, good to see you, George," La Fleur said kindly. "Did you have a good birthday?"

"I did," George replied cheerfully.

"That's good. How old are you now? You're still 3 to me."

"8 now," George said, standing a little taller and more proudly.

"Gosh, how time flies," La Fleur said. "Anyway," he continued, "I've just got to go over the contract with you. I've set out the clothes here. I need you to model these looks. When we've done that, I need you to stress test these to see how they hold up."

"Stress test?" George asked.

"Yeah, put them under a bit of a live challenge to make sure the fabric or the stitching doesn't rip. Or rather see how long it takes to rip. I need my customers to know that their clothing can hold up with their rough and tumble lifestyles."

"Oh, ok," George said.

"So I have your consent for it?" La Fleur said more seriously.

"Yep," George said. "Where do I sign?"

"Perfect," La Fleur said cheerfully.

The fashion shoot went about how George expected it. The clothes he had to model were variations of La Fleur's existing clothes. Something about an 'updated season line' but George cared little about the ins and outs of the fashion industry. La Fleur coached him through how to stand and pose, what facial expressions to pull and how to make the clothes look their best. He was pretty happy with the results and heaped praise upon George, which made him eager to keep going.

"OK," La Fleur said. "Time for the stress test. I've been working on a new line of activewear for boys, the sort you can use for all kinds of physical activity."

"Sounds good," George says.

"Here's the look I want you to test," La Fleur said. "It's designed to absorb persperation without feeling wet." He held up what looked like a thermal undershirt and shorts. "I've paired them with my existing football kit. I'll let you get changed. Here's a bag for your clothes. Call me when you're ready. I'll just lock the door so you can feel safe."

George waited for him to leave the room. The bag he had been given looked very much like a rubbish bag. La Fleur was certainly a snob when it came to clothing but surely he was not calling George's clothes rubbish? He decided it would be best not to keep La Fleur waiting and changed quickly. The thermals were white, whilst the football kit was light blue. The shorts on the kit were slightly shorter than the thermals, meaning you could see he was wearing them underneath the kit, which George decided made sense for La Fleur's advertising purposes. He realised something was missing. "Um.. Mr La Fleur...?" he called.

"Yes, George?" he replied.

"I can't see any socks or shoes. Don't I need them to stress test these clothes?"

"Oh, no George," La Fleur replied, laughing slightly. "Well, yes, I've got the socks here. We just don't need them on your feet."

"Excuse me?" George asked, slightly confused. "Where else would I put them?"

"You'll see..." La Fleur said. "I'll be in shortly."

Before George could reply, he heard a strange hissing sound. "Mr La Fleur?" he called again. "What's that noise?"

"That'll be the sleeping gas being piped into the room," came a reply.

"S-Sleeping gas?!" George stammered. "What's that for?"

"It's part of the stress test," La Fleur said. Keep calm and let it do its job.

"But... but... buuuuutt..." George tried to argue, but the gas was already having its effect. His vision spun and he fell to his knees, breathing heavily. "No.... Please..." he got out, before everything went black.

***

George yawned as he woke up. He could not put his hand over his mouth. He couldn't move his hand at all. Both hands for that matter. They were tied tightly behind his back! As George's senses suddenly returned to him, he realised the predicament he was in. He was lying on his stomach, his arms tightly fastened to his torso, his legs bound together and bent fully into a strong hogtie. He could feel the ropes tight around his ankles, knees, thighs, upper arms and wrists. He strugglled to break free; the ropes did not budge. "Ummmm, HELP!" he cried. "Mr. La Fleur? What's going on?" George's head was spinning.

George continued to struggle, rocking around in place as he did so. He looked around the room. Aside from a clearly locked door and the rug that George was lying on, the room was empty. "Where am I?!" he shouted. "Let me go!" George continued to struggle until he had no energy left. "Please..." he said between panting for breath. The hogtie was secure and tight, but not so tight that any of his muscles were pulled unnaturally. That was George's only relief.

After a few moments of catching his breath, George heard the sound of a key being turned in the lock. The door opened to reveal La Fleur, standing there as if nothing had happened.

"Mr. La Fleur!" George cried. "What's going on? Why am I tied up?"

"It's the stress test, George," La Fleur replied matter-of-factly, as if this was a normal occurrence.

"How is this a stress test?" George replied.

"Well, you're working up a sweat, aren't you? Plus, all the friction from the ropes could snag the fabric. If these clothes can survive a few hours, I know they'll be able to cope with anything."

"That's crazy!" George said. "This whole thing isn't right - or normal?"

"It's not?" La Fleur said wistfully. He looked puzzled for a moment. "It seemed like a sensible plan to me. Oh, I forgot the socks!" he changed the subject in the same way that someone would remark on the weather.

"I can't put them on!" George said. "My hands are stuck."

"I'll put them on for you."

"No, that's not-" George began, before giving up.

La Fleur walked up and knelt down next to him. George was confused when he did not feel anything being put on his feet, before he suddenly felt a hand tickling his soles.

"AHHH, HA- MMPHHHH!" George's laugh was cut short by La Fleur suddenly stuffing a sock into his mouth. "MMMMPHH MMMPHHHH" he groaned as La Fleur's hand forced the sock all the way in. Given that it was a thick football sock, this was no mean feat. George's cheeks bulged with the sock in there.

"Keep still," La Fleur said, before taking the other sock and tying it tightly over George's mouth, keeping the sock in place.

"MMMPHH! MMMMPHHHH!" George shouted as best he could.

"Now, let's just do some preliminary checks," La Fleur said. He rolled George onto his back and lifted up his shirt to have a look at the undershirt.

"MMPHH!" George said angrily.

"Hmmmm," La Fleur said as he rubbed the shirt in various places - the chest, the stomach and the armpits. "Feels dry to the touch." He touched George's forehead to get a comparison. "Still mild sweat levels but the absorbtion is good."

"MMMMPHHH!" George cried again.

Then, La Fleur replaced his shirt and lifted up the legs of George's shorts.

"MMPHH?!" George shouted. He went very still.

"The undershorts seem to be performing well," he said, grabbing George's legs to feel the fabric. "Initial signs are good." He let George fall back onto his stomach.

"MMPH!" he grunted.

"Ok, I'll leave you for a while. Keep struggling and working up a sweat," La Fleur said encouragingly. "I'll be back to take some more readings soon."

"MMMPHHH! MMMMPHHH! MMMMMPPPHHH!" George called after him as he walked away and locked the door.
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Post by The slave »

Wow awesome
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