Jordy the Barefoot Beach Dude - Part 1 and 2. (MMM/M)

[Brez510]

Hi guys. I'm Jordy. You would call me a work in progress. I love playing the guitar and singing. Some people tell me that I can be a big star someday. That, though, will be put on hold for a while after what I went through last month!

It's a shame. I have all the tools to be a star. I sing country. Go on stage with the whole country getup: jeans, flannel shirt, cowboy hat.

Everyone says I'm handsome. I'm 5'10" tall and have shaggy, dirty blond hair. I'm in great shape. Well-toned. My body is pretty much hairless. Girls say that gives me that sexy baby face look.

I was having a lot of trouble finding gigs. There are too many country-western guys out there with talent.

Fortunately, that changed a while back!

I was with a group of friends and my girlfriend, Cami, on the Pier in the beach town where I live.

Every Friday, we went down there for a few beers and to listen to music. There are always pier concerts on Friday nights.

On this Friday, the MC got up on the microphone and said the concert was going to be canceled. The group that was scheduled to play got stuck in a massive traffic jam and had to postpone, regretfully.

The crowd seemed bummed. There was always a concert on Friday night.

My friend Paulie, who is also my manager, asked me if I wanted him to go up to the MC and volunteer me to play as a substitute.

That would be a cool idea, except I didn't have my performing clothes. My guitar was back in my Jeep, but I had no outfit.

Paulie looked me up and down. I arrived at the Pier immediately after we all got off the beach. I was wearing faded denim cutoff shorts with a few holes in them, along with flip-flops. I didn't have a shirt on. For sure, it was an unacceptable outfit to perform a country music set in.

Paulie still pushed me to do it.

He had an idea. Paulie knew beyond country music that I could play and sing laid-back beach music, like the late Jimmy Buffett. Even this evening, before we went to the Pier, I was playing some laid-back music on the beach.

My girlfriend and the rest of the group all encouraged me to give it a try. Besides, my fortunes as a country singer weren't keeping me busy.

I agreed, but was pretty embarrassed about the way I was dressed.

Paulie ran up to the MC, and Cami took off to retrieve my guitar from the Jeep.

I could spot Paulie having a long discussion with the MC. They were both looking at me from a distance. I was getting worried that he wasn't interested.

Paulie is my best friend, but a real amateur when it comes to managing me. This wouldn't be the first time he blew a gig for me.

I breathed a sigh of relief when Paulie motioned me to come up towards the stage.

Paulie introduced me to Joe, who promoted and MC'd the concerts each week. We exchanged hellos.

I was uncomfortable as he looked me up and down in my short, tight, skimpy outfit. He told me to take off my flip-flops.

I did as he asked. Joe said he was looking for a gimmick to sell me to the crowd. He seemed more interested in my appearance than in asking me questions about my music.

He said he would call my act "Jordy the Barefoot Beach Dude."

Dressed in just my cutoffs with no shirt or shoes, he felt that even if I were only a fair singer, what he called my "totally hot look" would carry me through the set.

Paulie made a deal. Joe offered a fair amount of money for the set.

I got my guitar from Cami, Paulie gave me his blue-tinted sunglasses, and Joe introduced me as Jordy the Barefoot Beach Dude.

I felt naked going out on stage with just my shorts on, but I started to sing, and the crowd went wild.

I relaxed and was finally able, by the third song, to take a good look at the audience and start to interact with them.

I could see both girls in the crowd as well, and surprisingly enough, guys were giving me that "I want to be with you" look.

The set ended, and I performed an encore; the applause was long and loud. I couldn't believe it. I never got applause like that doing a country western gig.

Joe flagged me and Paulie down after the show. Joe wanted, for a cut of the action, to help Paulie book me.

Both Paulie and I couldn't believe our luck. From a has-been country music singer to an overnight beach singing sensation!

Cami was so proud. We all bar-hopped for the rest of the night to celebrate the new Jordy.

That Monday, Joe called Paulie to let him know he had a gig scheduled if we wanted it. It was a short notice. We had to be ready to leave later that day. It was at the Forsyth Center, about a two-hour drive north.

Paulie conferenced me in on the call. Without giving it much thought and not wanting to lose the work, we immediately agreed. The money was great, and the gig included travel expenses.

Paulie asked Joe what I should wear, considering I was only in cutoff shorts during the last show. Paulie suggested a Hawaiian shirt, Khaki shorts, sandals, a straw beach hat, and sunglasses.

Joe told Paulie and me that not only should I wear just denim cutoffs with no shirt or shoes, but also, at the request of the manager at the Forsyth Center, to ensure the cutoffs were shorter than the pair I wore on the Pier.

I pressed Joe that a different outfit would help create a more fun, laid-back persona for me.

Joe again insisted, and since we were anxious about the job, Paulie and I agreed.

Joe told us that the show started at eight, but we should arrive around four to get used to the Forsyth Center stage. There was also a skit as part of the show that I would be involved in. The skit was intended to be a quick show closer for the crowd.

Paulie rushed over to my house to work on putting together some song sets, writing material that I could use between songs, and somehow came up with a pair of faded denim cutoffs even shorter than the pair I wore on the Pier. We assigned Cami to that task.

Time was running out, and it took until the moment we had to leave to get everything together.

We sprinted to the Jeep and set sail for the Forsyth Center.

I sang some of the songs in the Jeep, rehearsed the lines, and felt ready for the gig. Paulie was excited that this show could be the start of something big.

We were about 30 minutes away when I asked Paulie what the Forsyth Center was like. Paulie looked at me and said that he thought I knew about it.

We started laughing when we both realized neither of us had researched the venue.

Paulie Googled it and could not find any theater in Stormville with that name.

I told Paulie that it was probably a new name for an old theater.

We had the address in the GPS, so we weren't worried about not finding it.

We entered town, and the directions took us to a complex of buildings.

The first building we encountered had a sign that read "Stormville Correctional Center."

We silently looked at each other. We then drove to a gate. A guard emerged from a building adjacent to the entrance.

He asked us for our names. When we told him, he asked for our IDs and went into the guardhouse.

I told Paulie that he should have asked Joe more questions. I was pissed. What was this all about?

The guard came out and gave us directions to the Forsyth Center. He told us that Mr. Jenkins, the Warden, would greet us there.

We thanked him. The two of us sat in silence as we started to drive. A sense of dread came over both of us. What did we get ourselves into? What kind of show was this going to be?

We pulled into a visitor's spot and walked to the entrance. There, waiting for us, was Warden Jenkins.

The Warden was a heavy-set, tall, imposing figure. I thought he was shifty and sinister-looking. I didn't like the way he looked at me. I was letting my imagination run away.

The Warden sensed our dread, started to laugh, and told us to relax. The show, scheduled for a few hours from now, is for staff and their families.

Paulie and I breathed a huge sigh of relief almost simultaneously!!

The Warden asked us to bring our belongings into the building and showed us an area that we could use as a dressing room.

The Warden told Paulie and me to come to the recreation room in half an hour so we could set things up and rehearse the skit.

Paulie asked if there was a script for the skit, and the Warden told us he'd take me through it—no need to memorize anything.

Both of us felt a whole lot better knowing this was a special show for jail staff and their families. We convinced ourselves that the show was like any other, just in a different kind of "theater."

We went to the Rec Hall. It was a really nice hall! About 200 seats were set up. A nice stage and sound system. This should go smoothly.

After a few minutes, the Warden walked in with three guards.

We told the Warden how nice the hall was. He told us that the hall was pleasant, but in the back of the hall and out the double doors was something that was not so nice, namely, the jail where the inmates were housed.

He said that those housed in Forsyth Hall were inmates who committed crimes where their accomplices were still at large. The guards worked closely alongside the police to gather information and track down these accomplices. The Warden told us that he made it very difficult for these prisoners to ensure they ultimately provided information—anything he could do to give them a little mental torment was also valuable.

He told us not to worry, though. We were here to put on a show and entertain the staff and families.

I was wearing a T-shirt and jeans. The Warden asked me if, as Jordy the Barefoot Beach Dude, I would be wearing my cutoffs, as Joe had told him I would.

I assured him I would, but for the rehearsal, I told him I didn't think I needed to.

The Warden seemed a little agitated by this. Paulie assured the Warden that I would go back and change for the rehearsal.

Paulie and I headed back to the dressing room. I got a little creeped out about this. I was still uncomfortable dressing like this to perform. I began to wonder if Joe had booked me primarily because of my appearance rather than my musical talent.

Paulie told me not to worry. He said the customer, even if he is a Warden, is always right.

I changed, and we went back to the Recreation Hall.

The Warden said the skit would take place at the end of the show. The Warden studied me in just my cutoffs. He seemed a little too overstimulated, which led me to believe that Joe told him I was, in costume, pretty hot.

He thought the audience would love it if I were taken hostage at the end of the show and escorted offstage in that manner.

His idea was actually humorous. It's dark humor for sure, doing that in a prison, I thought.

The Warden said the three guards with him would act as the "prisoners" who would take me hostage later that night. They would be dressed like prisoners during the show.

I asked the Warden what he wanted me to do. I guessed he would have them come up behind me after my last song and escort me off the stage.

The Warden said he wanted to make it a little more dramatic than leading me off stage.

He said the three "prisoners" would come up behind me. One would hold me, one would handcuff me, and one would gag me. After that, they would hustle me off stage.

Handcuffed and gagged? That seemed a bit too intense for me.

I looked at Paulie. He could tell I wanted out. But I committed to this and thought to myself that the show must go on.

The guards followed the Warden's orders. One of the guards grabbed me around the waist. The second guard pulled my arms behind my back and handcuffed me, while guard three took a white cloth out of his pocket, pulled it between my teeth, and tied it off behind my head.

The three guards then rushed me off the stage.

I heard the Warden applaud and laugh as they took me off stage. He seemed to find the whole thing amusing.

He called for one of the guards to bring me back on stage.

There I was, standing alone on the stage, handcuffed and gagged, staring at the Warden.

The Warden, sitting in the audience in the front row right in front of me, had a very noticeable bulge in his pants.

I then realized that maybe this little skit was not intended for the audience later in the evening, but was created by the Warden to facilitate a personal tie-up performance.

I don't know what Joe, the MC, told this guy about me, but obviously, some freaky fantasy got the best of him.

The Warden told me what a great job I was doing with the skit and how much he looked forward to seeing the show later on. He suggested that maybe the guards should also tie my legs and carry me off like that instead.

He asked me what I thought of that.

I said through the gag, whatever he wanted.

He was obviously stalling for time, trying to get as much time as possible to see me as his personal guy in distress.

He then called the guards out on the stage to release me.

Paulie and I headed back to the dressing room.

I told Paulie I felt cheap standing there in front of that pervert, handcuffed and gagged.

Paulie told me to relax. He said I looked hot in a strange way with the cutoffs, no shirt or shoes, and gagged with the white cloth.

I didn't know whether he was joking or not!

Paulie told me that in just a few more hours, we'd collect our check, chalk up another performance, and try to get Joe to understand that if he still wanted to book us, it'd be at more family-friendly theaters with less revealing costumes.

It was finally 7:45 pm, fifteen minutes until show time. The Warden came into our dressing room to wish me luck.

One of the guards handed me a small, flat electronic device that looked like a credit card.

He said it was a speaker. If, during the show, and since we were in prison, an emergency required me to exit the stage quickly, a verbal announcement would direct me to a designated area.

With only my cutoffs on, the guard suggested I put the device in my pocket.

I did as asked. And since the audience consisted of guards and their families, the chance of it going off was relatively remote. One thing I've noticed about this whole situation is that, to this point, I have felt very safe.

That would soon end, though!

The Warden informed Paulie and me that the dynamics of the audience would change a little, but promised a packed house.

He said another guard would come to get us in a few minutes.

I asked Paulie what he thought he meant by the "dynamics of the audience changing."

Paulie assumed they might have extra seats and offered them to not only the guards and their families but also friends.

That made sense to me, but I still wondered.

The guard knocked on the door, I grabbed my guitar, and we headed to the stage. I stood behind the curtain.

The curtains slowly parted, and instead of seeing the smiling faces of guards and their families settling in for a fun show, the Warden, to my total shock, filled all the seats with prisoners!

They didn't applaud but whistled and started making comments, not polite ones either. I was scared. Here I was, dressed skimpily on stage in front of 200 men who were in jail. For a lot of them, a long time, I imagined.

End of Part One

So here I was, alone on the stage with 200 criminal men looking at me.

Many of them I could see were not interested in my music but in me and my look.

Many moved close to the stage, but a line of guards blocked them from coming any closer.

I tried my hardest to focus, but it was almost impossible to do so. I was shocked I was able to continue. A million things were going on in my mind while I sang.

I remember that the Warden said to Paulie and me that to get information from prisoners, he sometimes used "anything he could do to give them a little mental torment was also valuable."

It seemed like I was that "mental torment" the Warden was talking about. In this case, to drive some of these men a little crazy.

Finally, the show was drawing to a close. The part I was worried about the most—the closing skit—was just minutes away.

I was actually happy that I would shortly be handcuffed and gagged and finally taken off the stage and out of this nightmare.

My last song ended. The guards, dressed in prison attire, emerged onto the stage.

Since the shift changed, it was three different guards, but they seemed to know the skit.

Just like in the rehearsal, one grabbed me, the second handcuffed my wrists behind my back, and the third gagged me.

It was weird. During the rehearsal, when I was gagged, a thin cloth was placed between my teeth. This time, a small wadded cloth was shoved in my mouth first, and then a strip of cloth was placed between my teeth and tied as tightly as possible behind my neck.

I was then pulled off the stage.

Instead of heading for the dressing room, I was quickly ushered to the door of Forsyth Hall, where Paulie and I had entered earlier.

There was a car running in the visitors' parking lot.

The back door opened, and one of the guards held me around the waist while the other two jumped into the back seat.

I was then pushed into the backseat of the car and laid out, face down, across two guards' laps so I could not be seen by passing motorists.

The guard who pushed me into the backseat moved into the front seat. The car sped off.

In the back seat, one of the guards took a cloth out of his pocket and blindfolded me.

The other guard had a piece of rope prepared, crossed my ankles, and tied them together as tightly as possible.

I was too afraid to try to scream and fight back. I felt that if I were compliant and passive, I wouldn't get harmed.

I was trying to understand why this was happening.

Being handcuffed, blindfolded, and gagged at the mercy of these two guys in the back seat, dressed only in my tight cutoffs, had me so distressed.

It was tight and cramped in the back seat. I could feel each guard's legs rub against my body. Lying across the two back seats, I was freaking out, feeling one of them getting a little hard.

What was happening? I couldn't make sense of this.

Were they actually guards? Was this some planned prison break?

End of Part Two.

[DeeperThanRed]

That's suchan elaborate plan to kidnap one guy, no matter how cute he is. I wonder what Jordy's kidnappers have in store for him.

[Tsuhaya]

Damn good start, classic kidnapping. Can't wait to see what those bastards have planned for Jordy.

[dwild]

A nice opening, intrigued to see where this story goes.