Holy fuck.
I just got in the door. On my way up, some fucker in the neighborhood popped off a half dozen shots from a pistol, I don't know why.
I called the police about that, but my nerves are already fucked from my night out. I'm writing the rest before I have to deal with our boys in blue.
---
I went out earlier and did some dancing. I got a little lit and walked my way home, stopping at bars along the way when the whim hit me.
I stopped at The Jarhead, a little gay bar about a mile from home. I met a great man by the name of Gerard. He looked hot. He spoke well. He had manners. What could possibly be wrong with this guy?
We flirted and kissed and drank too much. I decided that a night away from home would do me good. This isn't my usual. I may be a lot of things, but slut is not on my list. Nevertheless, I went home with him.
We flirted and groped our way into the house and Gerard fetched us drinks.
The last thing I remembered was necking on the couch with my fly open.
---
I awoke looking at my feet. I was hanging naked from a vertical metal grid; bound at the wrists, elbows, chest, waist, thighs, knees, and ankles with white rope. I was wet with sweat, hot as though in a sauna, I was splayed like a starfish. Facing me was a curtain of black velvet.
---
"Good morning, my princess." the voice came from behind me.
I could not see him. I could not remember his face. I could not remember how I got here. I became very frightened.
I felt a finger, gingerly tracing the cleft of my ass.
"The time has now come. I am tired of waiting for your inebriated self to rouse." A finger entered me at 'rouse.'
I closed my eyes and tried to think, meter my breath, overcome panic.
My captor tied me down even further, pulling me tightly to the metal matrix to which I was bound. When he accomplished this purpose, I saw his face again. He too was sweating, though his face was fully calm. I was chilled by this. I thought to myself, "This is a cold, cold man. A calculator. A predator." I was his prey.
I did not speak, nor did he. He poked dozens of syringe needles through my skin so the points poked back out. At one point he touched his pinky to a droplet of sweaty blood and touched it to his tongue. I closed my eyes again, fearing my own fear.