Matt awoke with a fright, did he just dream the sound of smashing glass, or was it real?
He lay in bed, his heart racing, listening for the faintest sound. Pots & pans knocked over in the kitchen, footsteps on a loose floorboard or even a burglar stubbing a toe in the dark. Outside it was a warm summer’s night outside and everything was still. There was no wind but thick cloud cover, so no moonlight.
Straining his ears he listened. Was his mind playing tricks on him or was somebody breaking in? He listened and listened but nothing. With a sigh, he decided it must have been a dream.
As he rolled over to get back to sleep, an almighty crash came from the hallway. No sooner the crash faded, than all hell let loose. Voices screaming “Get your hands up, get against the wall” with several loud bangs and a constant hissing noise.
Across the hall was the bedrooms of Ryan and Josh, his house mates. Whatever was happening, was going down in their rooms.
Matt threw back his sheets and leapt out of bed, wearing just his boxers he headed for the door. He had no idea what was happening, what he might find, he just knew his house mates were in trouble and needed whatever help they could get.
As he reached the bedroom door it was violently flung open, forcing him to throw his arms up in defence. As he did so, he heard the sound of the several canisters rolling across the floor, like when you drop an aerosol can, except these cans were hissing out smoke.
The room was pitch black, no moon outside and no lights inside. Matt took a deep breath as he tried to figure out what was happening, but the smoke started choking him, stinging his eyes and throat.
Suddenly three figures burst through the door way, he could just make them out in everything that was happening. Stumbling and choking, a hand grabbed him around the neck and threw him against the wall. At 5’9″ and 124lb Matt was no physical match for the large figures he faced.
One of the three grabbed him and forced him against the wall, an arm held him there while a torch was shone into his face.
In it’s reflection, Matt could see a hooded figure wearing a gas mask. The figure held the torch in Matt’s face for a few seconds, before holding up a photo next to him and comparing the two. A few more seconds passed while they compared the photo against Matt’s face, before giving the nod to the other dark figures in the room.
By now the smoke was starting to clear. The figure behind Matt removed his mask and in a deep gruff voice, he spoke into Matt’s ear.
“Do as we say and you won’t be hurt. We’re going to take you somewhere but first we have a few bits for you to put on.”
Matt’s mind raced as to what this could mean. As a thousand thoughts raced across his mind, a pair of hands slipped down the waist band of his boxers and pulled them down to his ankles, before lifting his feet out of them. Then, his feet were lifted again and something feeling like a leather belt was slid up to his waist. He tried to struggle, he tried to look down at what was being done to him but a hand kept his head firmly pressed against the wall.
A cold gloved hand began feeling around the front of his waist, before taking hold of his cock. The hand forced Matt’s dick into a series of metal rings attached the to leather belt, Matt heard a small ‘click’ before the hand released.
Next his feet were lifted again. He felt his legs being forced into some kind of tight clothing, it was being rolled up his legs toward his waist. Matt realised he was being forced into a wetsuit. Being a surfer, he was always slipping in and out of wetsuits and recognised the feeling. The suit was rolled up to his waist and adjusted. So far his arms had been pressed against the wall, his hands supporting him. Now, a hand took hold of his left wrist and brought it down to his waist, forcing it into the sleeve of the wetsuit. The procedure was then repeated for his right hand.
The suit was slid up his back, to his neck and with a few adjustments, zipped shut. Now a hand again gripped his neck, while another fiddled with the zip. Finally Matt heard another clicking sound, like a padlock closing.
His encounter continued, his arms were forced behind his back, wrists together before being cuffed. Next, his ankles were forced closer together and again shackled, just like his hands. Matt tried to pull his hands up his back, but a chain connecting them to his feet stopped it.
As he struggled against his new restraints, a hand gripped his hair, yanking his head back. In the torch light, Matt caught sight of a rubber ball gag.
“Please! I’ve done everything you said, don’t gag me, please!” he cried. The last part of his cry was muffled as the gag was shoved into his mouth and the strap done up tightly behind his head.
Then he saw something that really alarmed him. A rubber hood.
Matt had once dated a girl that was into bondage, boyfriend bondage. Slowly but surely she’d talk her boyfriends into letting her cuff them. Once cuffed and at her mercy, she would up the ante. She’d put a rubber hood on Matt and then wreaked hell with his other senses. It really frightened him and they never dated again.
Matt screamed into his gag and pleaded with his brown eyes, wide open, but the hood went on what little there was, went dark. A leather strap secured the hood around his neck to stop it working loose.
“Now listen, we’re going to take you down stairs and into a van. Take it easy, don’t struggle and we won’t hurt you. When we get to where we’re going, you’ll be told more”
Matt was led out into the hallway, the noise from the other rooms had subsided, what had become of his house mates?
A hand took hold of his arm and helped him down the stairs and out into the night. His pulse was racing and his heartbeat was almost deafening, but over the top of this, he could hear the sound of an engine running.
“OK, now step up into the van”
Matt obeyed and was helped into the van before being forced down onto a wooden bench seat. It wasn’t a comfortable position, especially with his hands chained behind his back. No sooner had he settled, when he heard a creaking sound followed by a loud crash and rattling metal. Like a metal gate being closed. He realised that within the van, was a metal cage. These guys were serious that nobody would escape.
As he strained his ears to listen for any sound, he heard the process repeated again, twice. He guessed his house mates were now prisoners in the back of the van with him.
Finally he heard the doors of the van slam shut, the engine revved up and the van pulled away.
The van travelled for what felt like hours, in reality it was probably half an hour. Suddenly it drew to a stop and without hesitation the doors were flung open and the cages unlocked.
Underneath the rubber hood, Matt tasted the fresh air, sea air. They must still be by the coast somewhere.
A hand grabbed his arm and pulled him toward the door of the van
“OK, we’ve almost finished our journey now. We’re going to load you into a rib and transfer you to a boat that’s waiting in deep water. Don’t resist or you’ll be in the drink, not a good idea with all that metal attached to you”
Matt complied and was led across a beach, he felt the soft sand under his feet, it was cold so the sun couldn’t be up yet.
The sand gave way to water as he he was led into the sea until it was up to his waist. Suddenly he was bundled backwards and into a speed boat. Before he could adjust himself, the boat sped off. He twisted and turned, struggling for balance and poise as his hands were still securely fastened behind him.
The journey lasted just a few minutes before the engine fell back to idle and the boat turned sharply and came to a stop.
Matt was lifted to his feet and a voice commanded “OK, now step up and forward”
He felt a metal surface under his bare feet and was immediately walked up a metal staircase. It was must be the access to the bigger boat. Finally he was marched into a room and seated on a chair.
He sat there in darkness, noises around him were muffled by the hood, but before long he heard the clanking of chains as another person was led in, and then a short time later, a third person, presumably his friends.
An arm reached around from behind him, across his neck and forced him down into the seat. Then someone took hold of his cuffs and unlocked them. Before he could even rub his sore wrists, the hand grabbed them and pulled them around to his front, lashing them to the arms of the chains.
The shackles on his ankles were released, but immediately re chained to the legs of the chain, he was still a prisoner.
The arm that was around his neck was pulled away, but then pushed on the back of his head, tilting it forward. Another hand fiddled with the buckle on the leather strap securing the hood to his head, before releasing it and pulling the hood off.
He was glad to have the hood off, but still the rubber gag remained firmly stuffed in his mouth
Light rushed into Matt’s eyes, causing him to squint and turn his head toward the floor. Slowly his eyes adjusted and he was able to take in his surroundings.
While he could now see, he couldn’t speak to find out what was happening to him.
Studying himself first, Matt could see he was strapped to the chair by shackles at the wrists and ankles. Wearing nothing but a Black O’Neil wetsuit, he felt quite exposed and helpless. The legs of the wetsuit glistened in the light, wet from the earlier paddle out to the boat.
Inside, he was quite hot, the full suit meant little of his body was exposed to disperse the extra heat created by all the action.
Next he turned his attention to his friends
Ryan was next to him. Ryan was the stereotype surfer, 6ft tall, bright blond shaggy hair and wavy build. At twenty years old, Ryan was 18 months older than Matt, more worldly.
He was tugging and twisting against his restraints, looking for an escape. It was a contrast to see this laid back kid fighting for every inch of space.
Ryan had recently signed as a Team Rider for Rip Curl, a major surfing company. As if his captors knew it, he was dressed in a Rip Curl E bomb wetsuit, zipped up across the chest but still secured with a padlock system.
Ryan’s shock his head violently as he tried to get rid of the rubber ball gag stuffed in his mouth. His blue eyes surged as he struggled.
Matt turned his attention to his other friend, Josh. Aged 21, Josh was the oldest of the group of friends and like an unofficial leader. Joshua’s Dad was a wealthy businessman. He’d bought the house they all lived in and let it to the lads for a peppercorn rent.
Josh had gotten into surfing late in life, but it was like a natural thing to him and an escape from the life his Dad one day wanted him to inherit.
His Dad had always pushed him toward sport and one of them was martial arts. Josh now had a cut just above his left eye and a big bruise appearing on his right cheek. At a guess, Matt thought Josh had fought his attackers before finally being overwhelmed and taken prisoner. This one positive thought brought a slight grin to his gag filled mouth
Josh too was wearing a wetsuit, an all black version with ‘Animal’ written diagonally across the upper body. Zipped at the chest, his wetsuit was also padlocked closed.
Now, all three friends were chained to chairs, held hostage on a luxury yacht wearing nothing but wetsuits.
Finally Matt looked at the final person in the room.
A stocky, mature man, with blond hair turning grey. He had looked on as his new guests had adjusted to their surroundings and look each other over. Now he was ready to take the lead role in all of it.
Drawing deep on a cigar, before rising from his armchair and blowing the smoke toward the boys, he spoke.
“You lads must be wondering why you are here. The abruptness of your taking. The obscureness of your outfits?
I run an agency that supplies staff for the rich, rich with with unusual tastes. There is a large demand aboard for surfer boys.
The life is demanding. During the day there is surfing events and attending to the needs of your masters and mistresses, as well as their guests, whatever the needs maybe.
In the evenings, dinner party’s and then, activities expected of an escort…
I’m going to instruct my men to remove your gags now. I have been pleasant with you and you will be pleasant with me, yes? If not, the gags will go back on and there will be silence.”
He looked at each of the boys in turn and they nodded an agreement.
“Very well, remove the gags”
Matt twisted and turned his jaw, suddenly it wasn’t wedged open by a rubber ball any more
Josh started the reply
“Why us? How did you find us? You know our names, what is yours?”
“Slow down young Joshua, so many questions, we have so much time.
My name is not important, but I will tell you how we selected you.
My scouts watch the beaches throughout the summer. Every winter we take orders from our wealthy clients and set out to find boys to match.
We have been watching you for some months now, assessing your suitability. We have seen you on the beach, at home, socialising.
We have graded you on fitness, appearance, intelligence and sporting ability. We’ve spoken to judging panels at surfing competitions and coaches at your clubs.
We know lots about you, maybe more than you know about each other..”
The man looked directly at Matt for this but said nothing more.
“OK, your right, you are fair. Can I ask you so more things?”
“Of course, but surely your friends must have questions too?”
He looked at Ryan and then Matt. Ryan smiled slightly and answered “Josh likes to ask questions, let him roll because he won’t shut up otherwise.”
Matt remained silent.
“Firstly. Could you call me Josh? My parent’s are the only people who call me Joshua and that’s only when they are being serious.”
“But Joshua is good Hebrew name? Why you no like it?”
The man paused for an answer, but Josh was not forthcoming.
“Very well, I will instruct the men to call you Josh but I must say I like Joshua a lot better
You have more questions?”
“If I give you my word that I will remain, I will be your unquestionable servant and obey the master you pass me onto, will you release Matt and Ryan?
Ryan isn’t that great a surfer. His back turns are average and his ankle gives way sometimes, he’ll never make a good servant.
Matt is only 18, he’s too wild to be a slave. He’d be rebelling all the time and things.”
“You are a noble man for your age, Josh, I see great things in you. Courage, Leadership, Loyalty. But I also see deceit. You bag your friends to me so I let them go. You offer to sacrifice yourself for your friends.
You will all remain.”
“OK, thank you. I felt compelled to ask you. One more question?”
“I see your friend is right, you are an inquisitive person. Go on..”
“We are on a boat in the middle of the sea. We don’t know where we are and have no means of escape. We are unarmed, tired and hungry. My word is my bond, I will not try to escape or in any way harm you or your men. Can you release us from these restraints?”
“Again you are a noble person young Josh. You make a very good point but do you truly speak for your friends? Do you boys agree to abide by these terms if I order my men to release you?”
Matt answered straight away “Yes, Sir!” while Ryan simply nodded in agreement.
“Release their bonds. Have the chef prepare a meal and make up their accommodation”
At once the assistants dotted around the room moved off. One produced a set of keys and began undoing the wrist and ankle shackles holding the lads to the chairs.
Two more disappeared through a door way before one returned shortly afterwards with a tray of glasses, filled with orange juice.
For the first time since they’d been taken, the three friends weren’t being restrained in anyway and were able to sit in a more leisurely position than the one forced by their cuffs.
“Please, join me at the table for some refreshments. We have much to talk about.”
The man beckoned toward the door and they followed, through a corridor and into a dinning room at the stern of the boat. At the back of the room were large glass doors, allowing you to look out over the sea and lower decks.
All the time the boys were making mental notes. Doors, stairs, number of staff, number of decks.
Taking a seat at the table, Matt was immediately served a glass of orange juice. He studied the person serving him. About 5’11”, cropped blond hair, dark blue eyes and an athletic build. He estimated he was in his mid twenties.
Being locked in a wetsuit was hot work and Matt quickly drank the first glass. The waiter, wearing plain white shirt with the top two buttons undone, moved forward and refilled the glass. Not forgetting his manners, Matt looked up and said “Thanks man.” but the guy shied away from Matt’s glance.
Their host then began to address the group once more
He paused, surveying the face of each of his forced dinner guests
“After dinner, you will be shown to quarters. Rest as best as you can. In the afternoon there will be trials. A final check of your fitness and abilities. Then I will take time to speak to you individually and explain your exciting new life that lies ahead.”
Food was served as the sun began to rise. A dish of noodles with diced chicken and vegetables. None of the boys knew when they would eat next, so they made to sure to cram in as much as possible.
As they sat digesting the meal, the man rose and addressed them once more
“Young sirs. It is time to retire for rest. My assistant, Pierre, will help you to your accommodation.”
The boys stood up from the table and obediently followed Pierre through the corridors and down several flights of stairs until they came to the bottom floor of the vessel.
Pierre opened a solid oak door and the lights came on in a windowless room. The room was large, but it was divided into several cells, separated vertically and horizontally by bars. Six cells in total. Three to the left, three to the right All were unoccupied and the doors open.
As Pierre motioned them into the room, Josh stopped and immediately turned to him.
“I thought we agreed, no more restrains?”
“Sir, some security is necessary. You won’t be cuffed, gagged or hooded again, but please, one into each cell otherwise we will have to.”
The friends looked at Pierre, it was the first time he had spoken since they met him. Matt was certainly expecting a French accent, but instead Pierre spoke with a crisp, clear, West of England tone.
Ryan began to talk to him “How did you get…” but he was cut off
“Please, into the cells or the boss will be upset” uttered Pierre, avoiding eye contact.
Josh took the lead, reluctantly agreeing “Come on lads, it’s not his fault, we don’t need anyone else getting in trouble”
He walked through the room to the end cell on the left and sat down on the bed inside. Matt followed, entering the middle cell. Ryan hesitated, standing by the door. He had lots of questions and reasons why he shouldn’t do it, but Josh spoke up again “Ryan man, give the guy a break. Do you want cuffing up and stuff?”
Ryan entered the remaining cell and sat down. Pierre then moved into the room, closing and locking Ryan’s door first.
He closed the door of Matt’s cell and put the key in the lock. He looked up, into Matt’s eyes and whispered “Sorry dude”
Finally Josh was locked in. Pierre walked out and closed the wooden door behind him. As he did, all the lights went off.
Straight away Ryan called out to Josh “What the hell man? They take us prisoner and we let them?”
“Ryan! Josh whispered loudly. Firstly, whisper, you don’t know who is listening on the other side of that door”
Ryan suddenly realised Josh was still in control of his senses
“Remember Sea Scouts? We went on that camp. They dropped us off on the marshes and sent the army cadets after us?”
“Yeah, fat lot of use they were, couldn’t catch a cold!” Ryan replied
“Remember we had to get back to the base camp without being caught? 60 mile trek over three days? That’s called escape and evasion and it’s what we are damn well going to do, so shut up, lay there and listen!
First up. How is everyone? Matt?”
“Josh man. I’m OK, I did what they said so they didn’t beat on me. I’m tired but I’ll do whatever to get us out of here”
“Ryan buddy, hows you?”
“Not good man. They knew about my ankle. When I tried to fight them off at the house, they smashed it with a metal bar or something, it’s killing, I can’t really put any weight on it or move it properly. I had a hard job keeping the pain hidden earlier”
Matt turned the conversation round on Josh.
“Josh, I saw your face man. They did a job on you, what did you get on them?”
“When I heard the window break, I hid behind the door just in case When the first guy came into my room, I got the jump on him. I had my arms round his neck wrestling with him but another guy kicked me in the ribs. I tried not to go down but then they smashed my arm with like a bat or something. I had to let go and then they piled on me. They were dirty, the guy kicked my head when I was down. My vision is abit fuzzy and my ribs are aching.
Ryan. Can you swim?”
“With your ankle and stuff, could you swim if we had to jump overboard?”
“Not very well. I wouldn’t be able to kick properly.”
“OK, Matt. I know you dude. You can do this, so listen in. Remember the divers watch my Dad gave to me? When I went to bed last night, I forgot to take it off. In all this chaos, they never took it off me.”
“OK, but how does this work with our plan?”
“Well, it has a GPS chip. Before you dive, you save your location, your latt and long. That’s your dive boat. Then if you get in trouble and get lost, you check your co ordinations again and work out which way to swim back to the boat”
“Right. OK So I still don’t get it dude?”
“I’ve looked at our co ordinates. We’re about a mile off the coast. You could swim for help.”
“A mile? In open sea with no kit? Don’t be mad”
“Matt, you can do it. When we were up top earlier, I saw the buoys that mark the channel into the Mariner. You could swim it in stages, resting at each one.
I give you my watch with our co ords saved in it. When you get to shore you can get help.”
Ryan butted in. “Josh. What is he going to say? ‘My friends are being held prisoner on a yacht who’s owner wants to sell them as wetsuit slaves?’ They’d laugh him out of town”
No sooner had the last words left Ryan’s lips, Josh made one simple reply. “No, you get Lewis.”
Silence fell in the darkened room. Suddenly there was belief, hope.
Lewis lived along the beach from the group. He was in his late twenties and ex military. Growing up around the sea, he always wanted a career in the forces, but the Navy wasn’t exciting enough for him. At 16 he left town to join the Marines. He passed basic training with flying colours, and by 19 he’d progressed to Corporal.
He’d first met the three friends when he was in the Sea Scouts. Lewis was a star cadet and acted as a mentor to Josh before leaving for the Marines.
Whenever he was home on leave, he’d entertain the lads with tales of his adventures. Around his twentieth birthday this stopped. Whenever the boys saw him, they’d push him for a story, but he’d deflect it onto surfing or another subject.
A few years later, he came out of the forces. Although a friendly guy, he never spoke of what he’d done or why he left.
Although he was now a civilian, he kept up his skills. Everyday a frenzied fitness routine. He joined the local gun club and was a regular on the target range.
Every few weeks, he’d disappear for a few days, a miniature self training camp in the hills, or working along the coastline
For Josh’s 21st birthday, him and Lewis went on a special training exercise that Lewis had planned. None of the lads progressed from the cadets to the forces, but Josh always maintained an interest.
A couple of days later, they arrived home, Josh was completely worn out. All he could tell his friends was that it was the most intensive thing he’d ever done.
Josh’s Dad owned a lot of property in the nearby City. Whenever work needed doing, he’d hire Lewis. In exchange Lewis helped the boys out when their cars broke down, or work needed doing in the house
Despite all this, Lewis liked people to think he was just a beach bum. He let the boys have free run of his house, sifting through his old cd’s and surfing videos, borrowing whatever they needed out of the garage.
Free run except one room. It had a much more robust door on it. No windows and as well as the usual handle lock, it was also secured by a padlocked hasp and clasp at the top and bottom. Nobody knew what was in there and nobody asked.
Back on the boat, Josh continued with the plan.
“We play along today and tonight we try to get Matt out.”
“But how?” asked Ryan
“I dunno, we find a way. Think on our feet. We can always try the sick game or something I’ll speak to that guy in charge, I’ll plead with him that we are too banged up for fitness trials. That should give us all some rest.
If he asks you about surfing Matt, tell him you normally wear booties and gloves with your wetsuit. He might give you some. It’s more insulation for the swim”
“Josh. I trust you dude, but is there no other plan?” Matt whispered through the bars
“Matt. If you value the sanctity of your anus, we need to get off this boat. Were you listening earlier? We are to be after dinner entertainment. I’m pretty sure he doesn’t mean us satisfying girls.”
Again a silence fell in the cells. The realisation set in that the three friends could be violated if they didn’t escape.
“OK, it’s death or glory then?” Matt sighed.
“Exactly. OK, try and get some sleep or at least rest before we are needed.”
A few hours passed, the darkened room was still. If anybody slept, it was a very light sleep, on edge waiting for the door to open.
Finally the lights flickered into life, the door opened and Pierre walked in, allowing the door to swing closed behind him.
Gone was his waiters uniform of the night before, he was now dressed in a boardies and a baggy t shirt. His neat blond hair was now more relaxed, matching his appearance. A piece of cord looped around his neck and disappeared inside his t shirt.
He spoke softly “Guys, wake up. Wake up wake up wake up. The boss wants you on deck. He sent me down to get you ready.”
He reached for the cord dangling around his neck, pulling it out from beneath his shirt to reveal a key attached to it and began unlocking the doors.
As the lads lay on the beds, coming to, Pierre tentatively walked into Josh’s cell and knelt beside him.
“Friend, can I look at your eye? You’ve got a nasty cut above it and I want to make sure your OK”
Josh thought about it briefly before giving a nod of agreement and pulling himself up to a sitting position, swinging his legs over the side of the bed, pulling a face and holding his ribs as he did so.
Gently, Pierre brushed back Josh’s messy brown fringe that touched his eyebrows to fully expose the cut.
“It doesn’t look deep, I’ll get some stuff to clean it up for you.”
“Thanks.” grimaced Josh, clutching at his ribs once again, making sure Pierre saw him.
“Are you in pain? Did you get hit in the ribs yesterday?”
“Yeah man, one of your goons got me with a roundhouse kick.”
“Hm, we’ve got some painkillers up stairs, I’ll bring them down with some stuff for your cut.”
Pierre rose and walked out on the cell and into Matt. Kneeling down next to him, he smiled and asked “How are you this morning?”
“I’m OK dude just really tired, I didn’t get much sleep”
Finally Pierre walked round to Ryan. Standing at the door he looked down at Ryan, now sat on the side of his bed
“How about you? Do you need anything?”
“Well pal, those guys that worked over Josh also went straight for my bad ankle, It hurts a lot.”
Ryan rolled up the leg of his wetsuit slightly to show the bruising around his right ankle.
“OK. Painkillers for you too”
He turned and went out the door to gather the bits and pieces to patch up the boys.
Josh looked over to Matt and in a hushed voice said “Do you think he likes you Matt? He was different with you last night when he locked us up, now he smiles at you?”
“I’m not sure dude, I’ve never had a guy come onto me” Matt grinned.
The small bit of humour lifted the spirits of the captives.
Pierre returned with a basin of water, glass of orange juice and a packet of painkillers. Stopping off at Ryan’s cell to give him a drink and some pills before moving down to Josh.
After swallowing the pills, Josh tried to strike up conversation
“So who are the other three cages for?” pointing across the walkway to the empty cells
At first Pierre ignored him and began tending to the cut on his head. While he dabbed at the cut, he announced “The boss has agreed for you to have a shower and a change of clothes, you must be pretty sweaty by now.”
Spirits rose for a moment but then Pierre added “Sorry, it will be more wetsuits afterwards, he doesn’t want you in anything else at the moment.”
Matt chipped in “Will they be padlocked too?”
The spirits dipped again.
Then Josh had an idea for another conversation
“Does he make you wear a wetsuit, Pierre?”
“Sometimes, normally when he has clients on-board”
“Does he padlock you into it?” called Ryan from the end of the room
“Yes but we are unlocked once we finish the evening”
A thought entered Josh’s mind, was he forced to entertain clients ‘after dinner’
“Does… does he like… does he let the clients have time alone with you?”
Josh tried to word it gently but still Pierre reacted like he’d been stabbed. He broke his eye contact with Josh, dropping his gaze to the floor.
“Not any more. I am left alone now as I’ve been with the boss for 6 years.”
The boys gulped at the thought of six years stuck on a yacht as a wetsuit slave
As Pierre finished cleaning up Josh, Matt joined in the conversation.
“Do you always stay on the yacht or do you go to other places?”
“The boss has a estate in the South of France. I’m his favourite so I go with him when he collects new staff”
“New staff?” Matt queried
“When he lifts new boys for clients.”
“How often is that, how many does he normally get?” Pierre had dropped his guard and the boys were pumping him for information now.
“We take six on a trip and maybe two or three trips a year”
Josh took over the conversation
“So is there another three lads coming then?”
Pierre paused for a moment “He is getting another three tonight.”
Josh’s mind was in overdrive. Presumably the other guys he’d seen about the boat were the people who’d lifted him and his friends the night before. If they were going to be off the boat tonight, it would make escape easier.
“Why.” Matt asked, “Why do you do it? It’s really cruel, taking people away from their lives, their families”
Pierre stood up and faced Matt.
“You’re Matt right? The youngest one?”
“Yeah, how did you know, have you been listening in on us?”
“The boss watches people for along time before the snatch. He makes files on them for the client to make sure they are exactly what’s asked for. He’s had people watching you three for six months.”
Slowly, Pierre walked round into Matt’s cell, before sitting down on the bench next to him
“He always leaves the files lying around, so I look through them. He’s never grabbed three friends before, he’s really anxious as it’s a big deal. Three good looking lads who are already gelled together.
But you guys are so good together and such great people. It’s wrong, it’s wrong what he’s doing!”
Suddenly the quiet and caring Pierre was overcome with emotion, his eyes welled up. Matt reached out with his right arm and Pierre lent in, sobbing.
Ryan looked over at Josh and nodded. Silently they moved round to Matt and Pierre and joined in the hug.
Josh remained focused, he had to take a gamble and bring Pierre into the plan
“Pierre. How did you end up working for the boss? Did you choose it or were you taken, like us?”
Pierre leaned back against the bars of the cell and stared ahead, reliving it in his mind.
“When I was 18, I lived in Braunton with my Dad. I hated him. One day we had a big argument and I came out to him…”
Pierre paused to look at the reaction while Ryan and Josh looked at Matt.
Before they moved in together there was a lot of rumours flying about the village concerning Matt. Ryan and Josh had talked it over and decided that it was Matt business to manage as he pleased. They didn’t ask and Matt didn’t tell.
“I was angry and I went down the beach for a surf. The weather was all wrong but I was too stubborn to admit it. I feel off and really hurt my arm, I couldn’t paddle back in and nobody else was out. I clung onto my board and drifted. It was so cold I couldn’t move. Then this rib came along and just pulled me out, like they knew. They brought me on board here and took care of me.
At first it was great, having loads of attention, surfing all day and having no worries. But then I started missing having friends. The guys who came on board only stayed for a few days and they were too worried about what was happening to be friends. You guys are the first people to really talk to me.”
Josh paused for a moment before replying “If you could leave, would you? Even if the boss didn’t want to you to? If you could have new friends and be yourself. Away from this horridness.”
To be continued… In part 2.