When she awoke, it was not to the sight she had expected. Perhaps she had thought she might be in her bed - or somewhere in her house, at least - perhaps hungover as all hell. Or, maybe, at Sarah's house - also another drunk crash hotspot. If not there, then perhaps her car or desk at work - she had once fallen asleep there on a long job during a major migration and had to sneak as close to the door to disarm the alarm as possible before it went off. Of all the places she had expected herself to awaken after a period of blacked out memories, though, none of them involved this unfamiliar sight.
The first thing she noticed was that she was on her knees. The carpet below her was soft and lush, and her legs didn't ache too badly as far as she could tell, though she was low down, and her knees were apart. The second thing she noticed was that she was restrained. Moving her hands, she found that they were both cuffed together and tied to something behind her - turning, she made out what looked like a bedframe, reaching out and feeling the metal and wood around her fingertips. Casting her gaze further around the room, she took in more detail, recognizing a bedroom. There was a bed behind her in the middle of the room and shelves on either side of the bed. It was a large room, and in front of her sat a simple circular table with wide feet and a couple of simple chairs. There was a dresser and a large cupboard on the wall in the remaining corner, and only one door, off to her left. She had been cuffed to the bed on the lower right-hand corner of the bedframe, facing away into the room. The table was in front of her and she could make out that there were objects of some kind atop it, but not what they were. To her left in the middle of the wall was the door, and it currently sat closed.
As she cast her eyes around the room more, her faculties returning bit by bit, her breathing starting to pace faster as she realized the situation she was in, she looked for answers to two questions: first, who was holding her here, and where was here? She could make out no answers in this softly lit space - the shelves had nondescript books and trinkets on them and the table, while holding something, didn't seem to have anything of worth right now on it. She could see no signs of a wallet or bag or computer, only out-of-focus blobs of pink and flesh and black. Her second question was simple enough: how exactly did she get out of this place?
The second question swapped into focus, and only worried her more as she struggled again against the bedframe, feeling the cuffs, which were surprisingly soft and gentle around her wrists - likely toy cuffs designed for sex play, not something that brought her any deeper confidence - securely holding her hands together, up high below the bed. She guessed that the cuffs were probably zip-tied to the underside of the bedframe, keeping her arms back and her body low. Straining, she pulled down on the cuffs, her arms at an uncomfortable angle but free enough in the cuffs that she could turn her wrists to give herself a little better leverage. She tried to raise herself up with her legs but split apart and bent as they were she could only add an inch of hip flex to her reach; not enough to put serious pressure on her restraints.
'So you're awake.' someone said from a speaker somewhere in the room. She gasped and jumped, glancing her spine painfully off the bedframe behind her and gritting her teeth to suppress it. Glancing wildly about, she could make out nothing in the blue-and-purple edge lit room, the moody lighting softened only by two bedside laps which glowed gently either side of the bed in the far corner, together providing enough light and colour for her to see the room but not enough to expose everything in clear lighting.
The voice chortled softly from the speaker, coming through as a grainy guff. She zeroed her gaze in on where the sound was coming from, and turning her head to the shelves to her left, noticed for the first time a small camera lens focused on her - it was a baby monitor of some kind, perhaps a pet camera, one that clearly came with remote features like viewing and communicating. As if it had seen her notice it, the speaker crackled again.
'Ah, hello. You now see me. Good morning - or, rather, good evening, I should say.'
'Who are you? What am I doing tied up in here?' She replied with not a little anxiety and anger. She struggled again with the bed, moving herself left and right to test the restraints.
'I am a man who is recovering, currently, from a very enjoyable and most assuredly
consensual
love-making session,' the speaker said, a slight crackling coming through the tiny device. 'It was not the first, nor will it be the last - but a man can perform only so many times, and so requires...
Recharging
. That is, unlike a woman such as yourself.'
She ground her teeth as he spoke. Clearly, she had been out - maybe getting drinks, maybe just on the street walking home, she couldn't remember anything yet other than fog and noise before waking up here - when this creep-tastic rapist had obviously drugged her and kidnapped her to use as he pleased.
'I'm sure I know what you're thinking about right now.' he said, the crackle returning as he spoke. 'You're thinking I'm a kidnapper - a man who takes who he likes and rapes them. I assure you
I am not.
As I said, our sex-which, yes, we did indeed share-was very,
very
consensual - in fact, you begged me for more
several
times.' She thought she could sense a grin on his face as he spoke, and in that moment, she hated him for it - for this whole charade, for his glee, for her helplessness. The hatred surged through her, powering her up.
'Who are you,
cunt?
' She spat at the camera, struggling again at her bonds.
'I think the real question you want to ask right now is, who are
you?'
The speaker retorted. She inhaled to respond - then paused.
I know who I am - I'm... I'm a... I...
'Can't remember our name, sweet?' The voice quipped, right on cue. 'Allow me to help you in rediscovering yourself: your name is Abigale - Abby, you go by.' Blinking, Abby suddenly remembered her name, as if it was a puzzle piece slipped into place - she was absolutely called Abigale. How had she not remembered that until now?
The crackle came once more as Abby thought over the new old name. She turned to the camera, small in the centre of the feed and smaller still than normal cramped in her current position, low and to the side on the display in his hands. 'You must forgive me if you can hear some background noise during our conversation, Abby,' he said as he watched her on the floor of his bedroom, struggling with her restraints once more. 'A relaxing bath such as this is to be enjoyed, and one must occasionally disturb the surface. You are hearing the sound of lavender-scented hot water and wafer biscuits - I will leave which, up to your ear.' As Abby pushed on the bed again, she heard a crackling crunch as one of the hard little biscuits was placed into his mouth and chewed.
'What do you want with me?' Abby asked.
'Oh, I've already gotten what I want,' he said matter-of-factly. 'Several times, in fact - though I am certain I will enjoy it a few more times before you return to the mundanity of your regular, boring life.' Abby pushed more as he spoke, if for no other reason than to have an outlet as she learned about her apparent performance in this man's house.
'While this is an enjoyable experience for me, Abby, I feel it is my duty to tell you what
exactly
it is you are doing in my bedroom.' he said through the speaker as the single lens watched her. 'You see, you are not a captive - in fact, you are not even locked in this house, though you are locked in that room. No - you are playing a game. You see, there is a lock on my door, and your task is to try to escape before I and finished with and leave this refreshing bubble-bath. If you do, my front door is unlocked - you may leave through it and never return. If you do
not,
