013122 JO Pic of the week: You need a lot more rope

 

012422 JO Pic of the week: Home invasion

 

Ransom Motivation

 

They were lashed by ropes in a stress position against the lally columns in the basement.

 

Their spit dribbled down their chins from the tight gags.

Their arms were pushed high above their heads, and their wrists were pulled behind the column, crossed, roped together and to the column.  Roped  were tied around their biceps, and tightly lashed to the column and their necks.  Ropes circled their torsos, tightly binding them to the columns.

Their ankles were pulled behind the column, and crossed and tied.  Their thighs were tied to it like their upper arms.  A rope was tied between their ankles and pulled up, taking their feet off the floor and secured to their bound thighs. They hung in the ropes, their muscular weight tightening their bonds even more.  

CRAMPS

ROPE CUTS AND BURN

CHOKING

UNABLE TO MOVE

DRENCHED WITH SWEAT

"Your daddies seem to need a little motivation in getting the million dollars for each of you.  May I suggest you tighten your guts and close your eyes."

The sounds of the thumps and the gagged groans were loud on the live stream as he worked over their chest, guts and heads.

011722 JO Pic of the week: Binding ropes

 

No chance of escape.

 

They saw the chairs, steel, unbreakable, with slots to bind their arms, legs and torsos.

The handcuffs were hinged, which would make their wrists unable to move.

The rope was rough... it would torture their skin.

And the tape was thick.  It would make tight gags and blindfolds.

They cuffed my wrists behind my back, pushed up my shirt over my head, baring my hairy chest and belly, and taped my head.  Tying my ankles, thy dragged my to the chair and put my arms behind it.  They began to rope my torso to the three center ribs of the chair, first in a crisscross pattern then in a circle, yanking each time so that the coarse from dug deep into my gut and chest.  They tied ropes around my upper arms and the side of the chair, again yanking each time, and then frapping between the chair and my biceps.  It was like a tourniquet... cutting deep into the muscle.  They rope the center of the cuffs, pulled my head back by my hair, and tied the cuffs high up the chair to my neck. My biceps naturally bulged in the ropes, and the tourniquet tightened even more.

Between the pain and the terror I did not realize they were tying my legs, first my thighs together and then to the seat of the chair.  When the pulled my tied ankles under the seat of the chair, my thighs cramped and I felt them hogtie my ankles up to my neck.

It was then I realized I could not move an inch.

It was torture. Where the ropes cut into our skin, trickling blood mixed with my cold sweat.

Then the fuckers took off my shoes and cut off my socks.  They began to tickle my feet.  My body jerked in the ropes, my feet moved and I began to choke.... I controlled my feet as best I could....

They tickled us for hours....

As we slowly began to go insane.

011022 JO Pic of the week: The Game

 

 

Broken GPS

 

They laid face down on the ground... placing their arms behind their backs. They crossed their wrists and tied them with ropes.  Removing their boots and socks, their ankles were tied.  One sock was used as a gag, the other as a blindfold.

They were dumped in the truck, face up, one driving the other sitting shotgun over them, tickling their sweaty bellies with the butt of his gun.

They were dumped on the floor of the pole barn.  The socks that blindfolded and gagged them were circled with tape.  They roped their arms tightly together.  They were strung up by their ankles, their heads a few inches off of the floor.

Putting on boxing gloves, they used their guts as punching bags, until they were knocked out, swaying back and forth, their sweat dripped in streams onto the floor.

When Ryan came to, the tape was removed from his eyes....

...which slowly focused on his truck, in the mud!  

Regaining his consciousness he saw his buddies, like him, dumped in the mud, their arms still roped behind their backs, and gagged.  But their feet were free.

Stumbling to their feet, they worked to rip off their gags and spit out their socks.  Back to back their numb fingers worked the muddy ropes' knots until they were free.

They got into the truck, and drove off, covered with mud, their arms scared with rope burns, their guts feeling like jelly.

010322 JO Pic of the week: The challenge