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Just as a caveat, this isn’t something that has actually happened nor is it something that I view as “bad.” It’s just a fantasy, a genuine desire to struggle against something or someone. Nothing more.
Standing on the periphery of a wide field lined with a circle of woods, I saw the trails it gave way to as I scanned the tree line. Choosing one to the far left, I started to make my way down the path all while admiring the warm splendor of the setting sun’s ambience and the effect it had on various small forms of flora and fauna. “This is the perfect time to set up a camp site,” I thought to myself. Lugging my pack behind me, I continued walking until I came to a scenic enclosure containing a decent sized lake with another ring of trees surrounding it. I began clearing a spot to the east of lake after I gave a cursory glance around the area. As I started to set up my tent, I heard something rustling nearby. Standing up, I spotted a distorted shadow dart behind a tree to my right. “What’s going on here?” I thought as I walked over to investigate.
“Wait…..a paper plane?” I thought with some astonishment.
Sure enough, a partially folded plane sat at the base of the tree it had disappeared behind. As I opened it up, for some reason the hairs on the back of my neck stood on attention.
“’Guess who?’ What is this, a joke?” As I perused the neatness of the writing, a fast-paced set of footsteps ran up behind me and bagged my head just as I identified the words.
I cried out incoherently at the top of my lungs as a set of hands looped underneath my shoulders while another quickly caught up my feet from beneath me. I kicked and fought in a desperate attempt to get a sense of my bearings. Their grunts informed me that it was two men toting me along, and as I continued my thrashing I tried to come up with a plan of escape.
“That’s odd, I feel like I might recognize one of them…….” I pondered, but with the thick, dark bag around my head I couldn’t be positive about who or what I heard.
Before I could even attempt to free up my footing, I felt the man behind me hitch my hands in some firm knotwork with a rope while the one detaining my feet did the same to them. I then felt myself tossed into what felt like a kind of wooden structure which wiggled a little beneath me. Struggling to sit up, I reached my hands behind me until I felt what seemed to be a cross section of wooden beams. Before I could continue investigating, my cage lurched forward on the bumpy ground and tossed me against more of the wooden bars imprisoning me.
Determined to escape, I began jolting my body around to start testing for a weakness in the structure. But with the previous physical effort I had exerted and my mounting anxiety taking a toll on me, I decided to stop and get a feel of the knots holding my hands in place. I found that I needed to occupy myself with a task to do if it meant not going insane. While the construction of the loops was discouragingly well done, I still chose to stubbornly pick at it to figure out how it was tied. However, after a few minutes of fiddling with the ropework, I felt a strong arm thread between my tied arms and the small of my back. Another hand came up and clamped calmly, but firmly, over my mouth. Pulling me in, I felt the crossing sections of the wood against me as my head was slowly tipped back. A sultry voice spoke in my ear and said “You didn’t really think you weren’t being watched, did you? I highly suggest you sit back and relax………unless, of course, you want to be punished.”
The defiant part of me want to respond with immediate fire, but my prudence won out and I just gave a small, terrified nod confirming his words. Slowly he let me down, but not before giving my side a pinch. I instinctually gave a little cry and jolted with unexpected, ticklish pleasure, before gaining some composure. We continued on in relative silence for some time until we stopped at what sounded like another open clearing. Hearing the door of my little prison being opened, I was roughly grabbed feet first and dragged onto the soft earth below. One of my elbows was seized and I was quickly jerked upright and ordered to stand. I stood as rigidly as I possibly could, but the ground was uneven which lent to my instability. The same voice from before commanded that I steady my stance, or he would give me a reason to stumble. In my attempt to straighten out, my tied limbs instead weighed me down and I fell flat on my ass in one final thrash. I heard boots walking straight towards me, and a hand jerked off my head ornament. He grabbed my hair and jerked my face up to look at his in one swift motion.
“Mmmmmm……. now you’re really going to get it,” he said with a wry smile. He then grabbed me up by the elbows and started to guide me towards a circle with various impact tools lined in a display…………..
I will leave it to your imagination what kind of tools may or may not be involved as well as any other torture methods which might have been implemented in whichever succession it may have happened. I may choose to further post about this, but we’ll see. If you want a clearer picture of the mobile prison I’ve slightly described, watch Häxan: Witchcraft Through the Ages. The wooden cart they used to capture a witch in a woman’s home is what I was leaning towards.