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The Treasure Hunters: Part Three

By Doug R

Illustrated by KC

On a warm and humid Labor Day in 1978, when I was all of thirteen years old, I found myself lying on the wood paneled floor in the forward stateroom of a boat. I was barefoot and bare-chested, and clad only in a Speedo bathing suit. My wrists were bound behind my back, my ankles were tied together, and a cloth gag had been stuffed into my mouth.

Believe it or not but this was the second time today that the same two men had abducted me: Roy and his buddy Larry. I had been abducted earlier and held hostage with a young woman named Laura so Uncle Jerry could go get a “package” for Roy. We had been released once Uncle Jerry did so, yet when I returned to the lakeside house to retrieve my clothes, I ran into these two once again, and was told-surprise, surprise-that Uncle Jerry had somehow double-crossed them.

While I certainly felt sorry for Roy and Larry-Uncle Jerry was never the trustworthiest of souls-I got caught up in this mess again when they assumed Jerry had sent me back to retrieve the “goods”. And so once again, I had become a bound and gagged hostage, all over some “package” of “goods” that I still had no idea what it was, exactly. What made the situation worse that this time I was alone. Laura wasn't my fellow captive, and as far as Uncle Jerry knew, I was at my house relaxing.

But relaxing was a luxury I did not have, now.

I twisted and writhed my bound body until I was able to sit up on the floor. While I had been trussed up pretty good, thankfully I was still able to move around some. I was grateful Larry didn't hog-tie me, or tie me down to something, or else even this limited movement would have been impossible.

I glanced around the stateroom. I could see trees and other landmarks slowly moving by the windows as the boat I was aboard slowly made its way down the lake. Not only did Roy abduct me again, but also this time he stole the boat that belonged to Uncle Jerry and his family.

I was certainly in it deep this time. This wasn't a bondage game; this was a very serious situation that I had to get out of-and the sooner the better. I glanced around the stateroom for something-anything-that I could use to free myself. I thought I saw a knife in its sheath lying on the table by the door, but from where I sat on the floor, it was hard to be sure.

And so I got to my feet. This was easier said than done, thanks to the ropes around my wrists and ankles. But I managed to stand up by using the V-cushion for support as I bent my legs underneath me and stood precariously on my bound feet. I glanced over at the table and saw that there was indeed a hunting knife in its sheath lying there.

Now I just had to get over to it.

I tried bunny hopping, but the boat, which was presently sailing through the water, rocked ever so gently under my bare feet, which disrupted my balance. So I slowly made my way over to the table with small, short hops, keeping my legs pressed up against the side of the V-berth for support. When I came to the end of the V-berth, with a gap between it and the table, I decided to risk making one big jump. I leapt over to the table, and made it.

Sort of. I tried to grab the edge of the table with my hands, which were tied behind my back, but my bare feet, tied together as they were at the ankles, slipped on the bare wood floor, and I went down. I landed unceremoniously on my butt on the floor in front of the table. I wasn't hurt-the only injury I suffered was to my ego.

I was about to go through the entire process of standing up once more when I had a better idea. I noticed that the knife sheath was near the edge of the table. I lay down on the floor before the table, and then raised my bound legs up until I was able to reach the knife with my bare feet. I gave it a sharp kick, making sure the knife landed on the floor away from me-the last thing I needed was getting accidentally stabbed while trying to make an escape!

When the knife clattered to the floor next to me, I twisted and writhed my bound body until I could withdraw the blade from the sheath. I very carefully angled the blade so that I was able to cut the ropes that bound my wrists together behind my back. Once my wrists were free, I sat up and pulled off the gag, and then I used the knife to free my ankles.

Completely free of my bonds, I stood up and tried to decide what to do. I had to get off the boat, that much was clear--I might have to swim home, but at least I was already dressed for it. But the question was how do I sneak off the boat without alerting Roy and Larry?

I glanced at the hatchway in the ceiling of the stateroom. Roy and Larry would probably be at the aft section of the boat, in the control room. If I was quick enough, I could climb through the hatchway and jump off the boat before they even knew what hit them.

I stepped up on the center of the V-berth and climbed up through the hatchway. Once I was on the deck, I heard the men shouting. I ignored them as I walked over to the edge and dove off the side of the boat. The water was a welcome relief from the heat of the day. Despite my scant outfit, I had been covered in sweat. Still underwater, I cupped my hands and took the first stroke of my swim through the water when I abruptly felt something grab one of my ankles.

I glanced back and saw with horror that Larry had dived into the water, still fully dressed. He held onto my ankle with a vise-like grip as he pulled me towards him. Startled, I let out a gulp of air and inhaled a lung-full of water.

I was coughing up water as Larry hauled me out of the lake and plopped me down on the deck of the boat. I still coughed up water as Larry rolled me on my stomach and straddled me. My arms were pulled behind my back and tied tightly together at the wrists. Then he re-gagged me with another strip of cloth and moved down and tightly bound my ankles together with more rope. My knees were even tied together this time.

I was left on the rear deck of the boat, trussed up hand and foot, gagged, and still sopping wet from my brief swim. Too tired to fight back or even to struggle, I just lay there, feeling like a fish that had been freshly caught and that had been laid out like a prized trophy.

After a while, the boat engine had been cut abruptly as we drifted into port. I watched as Larry ran around, mooring the boat to a dock. When the boat was secured, Roy came out of the control room, flung me over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes, and hauled me onto dry land. I tried to look around my surroundings, but all I saw was the boat moored at the dock before Roy carried me into a small, cramp structure. It was a storage shack of some kind, made entirely of wood. I was placed into a hard wood chair, where Roy secured my bare torso to the back of the chair with more rope.

Once I was securely bound to the chair, Roy pointed his finger in my face and said, “Let see you try and get out of this one, you little ^%$.” He slammed the door in my face, leaving me alone in the dimness of the shack. Still weary from my previous escape attempt, I could only sit in the chair and stare at my grim surroundings. In the corner of the shack, a huge spider was working on a massive web. It lowered itself to the ground, and I warily wondered if it would consider trying to spin me up in a web.

Yet before I could worry further about the spider, the single door to the shack flung open once more, and I was surprised to find myself staring at Sharon, Roy's wife. I stared anxiously at her. Still barefoot, she was now clad in a one-piece terrycloth outfit that was strapless. She came over to me and untied my ankles. Once I was completely free, she gently patted my bare shoulder and added, "I know this may seem very scary to you, but it will be all right, Doug. It's just a big, stupid misunderstanding." She hesitated, as if trying to find the right words to say. Then she shook her head. "I'm just sorry to had to be caught up in all of this. This has gone too far…”

And then, to my great relief, Sharon came into the shack and untied me. She even untied the gag and removed it from my mouth. When I was completely free, she took my hand and said, “Come with me.”

I went with her. Sharon let me into a garage, where we got into one of the cars and drove off. She took me home; I had to show her where it was, but once she got the location down, Sharon dropped me right off in the driveway of my house.

Then she quickly drove off.

In less than twenty minutes after I had been brutally trussed up in a cramped, sweltering shack, when I thought for sure there was no way to escape this mess, it was all over. I never saw Roy, Larry or the others again. To this day, I don't know what became of them, and I could care less. I was just grateful that this mess was finally over. Just be very careful who you play bondage games with! If you don't know the people, then don't play them at all!

Of course, I've had more bondage adventures, but that's another story.

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