As he struggled to hold on to the rope that he was dangling from, Robert found himself surrendering to the helplessness of his situation. Once again his enemies in the neighborhood had caught up to him and dragged him to the woods to be hung from a tree by his tighty whities. His feet were barely touching the ground and his pants had been taken. The thugs and their girlfriends had stayed just long enough to snap a picture and laugh at him and then had left him there alone to swing from the tree branch. This had all happened before, but this time there was little possibility of escape.
The pain of his underwear being yanked up his ass crack by his own weight was intense. His testicles were aching and he was fighting the urge to urinate. He continued to hold the rope above him desperately to try and relieve some of the pressure on his groin. He found himself concentrating on the pain and the humiliation of his situation. There were houses not too far away and he wondered if anyone could see him. He yanked down on the rope and kicked his legs, but the rope held firm. No escape. Finally, after another few minutes of stillness, he released the urine he had been holding in his bladder. He watched as it soaked his underwear and streamed down his legs. He felt a strange excitement rise in him. He wasn't sure what these feelings were, but they had something to do with impotence. How he would have hated for his evil peers to see this. At least they weren't there now, he thought. After a few more minutes he began to moan and cry. He imagined someone finding him like this, his bare ass exposed in such a rude and humiliating way.
He looked up to the tree branch five feet above his hands and he knew this was his last chance to pull himself up. He gripped the rope tighter and tried to put one hand over the next, but he kept slipping back down. He tried again and failed. Now his helplessness was being replaced by panic. He was going to have to call for assistance or be there all night. He imagined the police and fire department arriving with reporters. Then the whole town. But he needed to get the attention of someone now as embarrassing as it would be. On his left, a hundred feet through the pines, was a house. He strained to see if anyone was in the yard.
"Help!!" he yelled in that direction.
No reply came.
He twisted his head to look back to the nearest road and shouted again.
"I need some help! Somebody!"
After ten more minutes of calling out with no response, he started to sob and curse out loud.
"Fuck!" he shouted.
Then he suddenly heard footsteps coming through the woods. A cold rush of fear shot through him. Was it perhaps a hunter? He spun around and then noticed the person approaching was a middle aged woman.
"Are you okay?" she called out.
He collected himself and tried to look unthreatening.
"Can you help me get down, please." he replied as he turned and saw that she was a neighbor of his from down the street.
"Oh my god! Who did this to you?!" she said with horror.
"Just some friends of mine... they're always playing jokes." he lied.
"Friends! I hardly think so!" she exclaimed as she walked up to him and put a comforting hand on his back.
She looked down at the violent ass-sling he was swinging by and tugged at the knot in the rope attached to his jockey briefs. She couldn't loosen it.
"Oh my god! Why did they do this to you? Are you in pain?" she inquired with motherly concern.
"It's just a game they play." he lied again.
"This is a pretty cruel game!" she said, putting a compassionate hand lightly to his rear end.
His face was flushing now in complete and utter discomfort.
"Will you be okay if I leave you here and go call the police?" she asked.
"No, no, don't do that...I just need you to cut the rope." he insisted.
"Okay, let me go get some shears." she replied.
As she walked away Robert tried to climb up the rope again, but slipped as before. Knowing he was going to have to wait to be freed by this woman made his face burn all the more.
Five minutes later she returned with grass clippers and severed the taut rope at his underwear.
"There you go, dear." she said as he was liberated from the hanging trap and his feet were released fully back to earth again.
He reached back and pulled his badly distorted underwear out from between his butt cheeks as he took his first careful steps.
"Are you sore?" she asked.
"A bit." he said with a sour face.
"You're all wet." she said as she looked down at the front of his jockey briefs.
He stood there not knowing what to do or say next.
"That's okay, come with me, sweetheart." she said.
"Did they take your pants?" she asked looking around.