I don't know why I went to the club early. Maybe I figured if I went early I could leave early and get my Saturday night ritual over with then go back home. Every time I go looking for someone all I get is a headache from the loud music, strobe lights, and cigarette smoke. Even when I do score I don't really get anything out of it. Cruising had lost its appeal a long time ago, but what else was I going to do except wander through the smoke, light, and blur of faces.
The last thing I remember after taking my drink was looking down at my shoes and wondering why they were getting closer and the music at the bar was getting louder. When I woke I was staring at the ceiling. From an open window to my right I could hear the wind moving through the trees outside. The silhouette of the leaves danced on the ceiling against the blue-gray background of the moonlight. The darkness, the sound of the leaves, and the warm wind were all very soothing--until I tried to sit up.
When I tried, I couldn't move my arms. I looked to my right and my left and both my wrists were held by leather cuffs. The cuffs were attached to chrome chains and the chains were bolted to a heavy wooden headboard. There was a small amount of slack in the chains to keep my arms from cramping up, but not enough to allow me to sit up. When I tried moving my legs I discovered they were chained down at the other end of the bed. As I became more alert I felt the soft bed sheets against my skin and realized I was naked, spread eagled, and tied down. I felt the blood drain from my face and my heart stared to race as I realized that whoever took me had me at their mercy.
I remembered reading about John Wayne Gacy and how he drugged young men, brought them back to his house where he tortured, raped, and murdered them in his attic. The more I thought about what was going to happened the faster my heart beat, the more I hyperventilated, and consequently I began to tremble all over.
I had worked myself into such a frenzy that when I heard the footsteps coming down the hall I jerked hard enough to hurt the muscles in my right shoulder. The footsteps sounded like bare feet on hardwood floor. I could hear them coming from the right side of the house until they reached the hallway. They grew louder and louder until they reached the front door. After a brief pause the door opened and I saw who brought me here.
It was a small consolation that it wasn't a John Wayne Gacy type.
I couldn't quite make her out in the dark. All I could see at first was a smooth, pale face crowned with black hair, her body covered in a black robe. I could see her better as she went around the room lighting the candles placed on the bookcase, the dresser, and the nightstand to my left. She wore a black silk bathrobe with vivid red trim. Her straight, long brown hair ran down to the small of her back and was pulled back and tied in a ponytail. Her eyes matched the color of her hair and had a soulful quality you wouldn't expect from a kidnapper. The contours of her face were more angular. She had high cheekbones, a squared chin, thick eyebrows, and her cream colored skin contrasted sharply with her dark eyes and hair.
As she set the mood a variety of scenarios ran through my head. She could be having a psychotic break and plans to use me in some ritualistic murder. Maybe she's been stalking me for six months and thinks she's having a romance with me. Or she could simply want to get off torturing and strangling me.
I didn't think talking to her would help but I couldn't just lay there and let whatever she planned happen. "Look," I said, "I don't know what you're planning but you haven't done it yet, which means you can still let me go and walk away. I won't tell anybody."
She sat down on the bed and smiled gently. "Don't be afraid, I'm not going to injure you."
"Prove it by letting me go," I replied.
"I'll prove it by showing you. Trust me."
"How am I supposed to trust you when you--" then a thought occurred to me. "How did you drug me anyway?"
"You really don't remember seeing me do you?" Her eyes turned towards my body as she ran her hand gently over my chest, pausing at my right nipple and taking it between her fingers. I could feel some of the tension in my body fade into arousal at her warm touch. I tried to snap out of it and focus on persuading her to release me.
"Remember you from where?"
"The club tonight. You were sitting at the bar alone, looking bored. It was like you were there because you thought there was nowhere else to go. You wanted to leave but didn't know anyplace better. I've seen that look in the mirror a few times myself."
"No I don't, I don't understand. Now let me-" I was stopped by the sharp pain shooting through my chest coming from my nipple that she was now pinching hard.
I gritted my teeth and held back a yelp. I wasn't going to give here the satisfaction of screaming. Then, just as suddenly as she'd started, she let go and I exhaled and began gasping for breath.
I tried to think of a response. What could I say to get her to release me without getting killed? She has a list of triggers I kept setting off. The first was at the bar when I must have ignored her. I remember going to the john for a few minutes. She could have easily spiked my drink. If guys can do it, why can't a woman?
Then it occurred to me that this might be some warped from of payback for her. Some guy raped here and now she was getting even.
I had to say something, so I said the only obvious thing, " You said you wouldn't hurt me."
She gave me that slight smile again and shook her head. "No. I said I wouldn't injure you. All I did was pinch you a little."
While keeping eye contact with me she wrenched my left nipple. Again there was the pain, and again I held back a yelp as I kept eye contact in this warped contest.
