Best buddies

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Our beaten bodies bound to chairs.
The four of us.
In a circle.
Facing each other.
Our sweat burning our eyes.
The gags constricting our throats.

Our upper arms roped to the sides of the chair, so tight that the blood was cut off, our veins were popping and a painful numbness magnified by our bound wrists pushed high up to the top of the chair and tied to our necks.
Our shirts, ripped open to bare our chests to the coarse ropes that firmly circled our torsos to the back of the chair making the slightest movement a chance for our skin to be torn to shreds or our wrists will pull down and we would choke.

Our ankles pulled back and tied off to the rear legs of the chairs.
Our knees then pulled together and tied, cramping our thighs, which were lashed down to the seat of the chairs.
The added binding of the ropes lashing our arms to the side of the chair, between our biceps and the wood, cutting into our triceps as they enjoyed torturing us.

Being slapped constantly across our faces, spraying our buddies with our sweat, and being punched in our guys and our balls, knowing if we moved our wrists we would choke.