How long?

Jason lay on his gut in a pool of sweat.  His hogtied body was cramped and numb from the tight ropes used to bind his body.  He wished he could turn onto his side for some relief, some motion, but the long wooden pole across his back, which each of his biceps were tied to, protruded out several feet from each side of his body.  Besides, he did not even want to try.  His kidnappers knew how to use rope.  If he moved too much he could choke.  His bound wrists had been pushed up his back, looped around the center of the wooden pole and tied by a noose to his neck.

His bound legs had been bent backwards, ankles tied to his wrists.  To much motion in his legs or arms would move his hands and tighten the noose.

His socks had been shoved into his mouth and held in place by ropes between his teeth and around his head. He fought off waves of nausea.  He realized he could choke on his own vomit.

Helpless he was amazed how much he was sweating.  With the noose pulling his head back, the sweat was pouring down his brow into his eyes, burning them.  He dared not even try to shake it off of him,
terrified of the noose.

He day dreamed he was swimming, his strong arms and legs pushing his body through the water, only to come back to the reality that he was all tied up when his hamstring popped and the cramps caused him to scream through the sockgag.

It was pitch black where he was.

He thought of his family.

Of his kid brother who he loved to tie up and watch his squirm to get free.

Now he could not even squirm.

"How long would it be?" he wondered.  Couple of hours?  A day?  Longer?

He just lay there in a pool of sweat driving himself crazy asking over and over,

"How long?"