This story wouldn't be nearly as good without the help, advice, and suggestions of volunteer editor madisonsub_btm. Thanks for the great ending!
*****
There was definitely a noise that was unfamiliar. It wasn't a particularly loud noise but I heard it, it was coming from inside the house and it was two in the morning. I lay frozen in bed next to my sleeping wife listening but heard nothing. My heart was racing even though I was telling myself it was nothing. I turned my bedside light off and continued to listen for anything. Was someone in my house? I quietly got out of bed and walked slowly across the room trying to avoid any obstacles that may be in the way. Passing by a trophy case that held several awards for the amateur sports I was always involved in, I gently picked up the heaviest thing I could find. It was a bowling pin from a tournament I had won nearly twenty years ago. We didn't believe in having a gun in the house, my wife was absolutely terrified of them. For the first time in my life I wished I had one. There was somebody in my house, I don't know how I knew but I did.
I slipped through the bedroom door and made my way slowly down the hall towards the living room. I listened but all I could hear was my heart pounding in my ears. The entrance to the living room was dark and the ambient light from outside was minimal due to the shades and curtains being completely drawn. Straining to see any sign of an intruder I pressed forward into the living room looking for any kind of movement. It appeared to be clear so I moved towards the kitchen. Passing through the kitchen entryway I had a terrible feeling and wanted nothing more than to retreat to the bedroom and dismiss the whole thing as just a weird sound you hear. Instead I raised the bowling pin above my head and moved through the kitchen and towards the dining area. I couldn't take it anymore and figured the element of surprise would be on my side so I quickly turned on the dining room lights. The room lit up and cast light beyond into the final room of the house. Nothing. No one was here. I felt foolish. Lowering my meager weapon I turned around only to see a strange man standing there. I screamed and dropped the bowling pin to the floor cracking a slate tile. The man was holding a knife, a big knife that reflected the yellow light of the dining room. He was quick and he grabbed me by my hair and forced me face first onto the countertop. He twisted my arm behind my back and pressed himself close to me.
"Try anything and you can expect this knife in your kidney. Do you believe me?"
Of course I did. His voice was deep and threatening. His breath was hot and smelled of mouthwash.
"Do you?!" He seethed.
"Yes, Yes, fuck yes I do." I was scared. More scared than any time in my life. He was going to kill me. And my wife, oh God my wife.
"Johnny?" Oh God my wife! And now, there she was standing in the entry way. She stopped in her tracks and started screaming.
"Ma'am?" The intruder yelled to her but could not be heard over my crazed wife. "MA'AM!"
She stopped and looked at the intruder. She looked absolutely scared out of her mind. I must have looked the same way. The incredible pressure of the man on top of me was painful and my arm felt numb from being twisted behind me.
"Ma'am, I'm sorry I had to yell but you were being a little over dramatic. Are you done screaming?"
Over dramatic? What the fuck? My wife stared in disbelief and absolute fear.
"Ma'am, I asked you a question and I expect you to answer. If you know what is good for you, you will answer me when you are spoken to, and that will be the only time I expect you to talk. The alternative is watching your husband's blood spill all over this beautiful floor. Understand?"
Holy shit, we were going to fucking die tonight. I felt tears starting to fall down my face.
"You better not fucking touch her!" I spat out through tears and spit. Pain shot through my side as the perpetrator drove a fist into my ribs.
"Same for you Mister, only speak when spoken to. Do you both understand?"
"Yes." We both agreed and kept our mouths shut.
"Good. If you can follow orders and a few basic rules we'll all walk away from this. Now slowly we're going to stand up and make our way to the living room. Do you think you can do that?"
"Yes." I stammered and he pulled me painfully upright.
"Now don't even think of trying anything Mister. Ma'am, pick up this bowling pin and walk in front of us to the living room."
After my wife scurried across the kitchen and retrieved the bowling pin, she walked in front of us and the man behind me held tightly to my twisted arm and shoved me forward.
"Drop the bowling pin and turn the lights on."
My wife complied. In the bright light I could see her trembling. She looked at me and she was unsuccessfully trying to hold back tears. I was so angry and scared myself and could hardly keep the tears from welling up as well. In the center of the room was a large duffle bag and on top of it was rope. I thought of that sound I had heard earlier and now I could picture this crazy man dropping the duffle bag on the floor. That was the sound I had heard.
"Ma'am, please retrieve the rope that is on top of that bag and bring it to me." She didn't want to but complied with his wishes. "Okay Ma'am, please sit down on the couch, keep your hands on your lap and for the love of God, don't try anything stupid. You can only imagine the amount of pain I will put your husband in."
She sat on the couch, just as instructed and wept while trying to remain motionless.
"Sir, I am going to release the pressure on your arm and bind your hands together behind your back. Please comply or reap the consequences."
He lowered my arm and brought the other arm around my back. I didn't try and fight, I just wanted to live. I felt the rope start to wrap around my wrists. He knew what he was doing and the way he was binding me felt like he had done this kind of thing more than once in his life. He pushed me towards a chair and shoved me hard into it. I yelped in pain as my arms twisted awkwardly behind me. I tried twisting my arms to see if there was any give in the rope that held me in bondage but there was no way I was going to break free from his knots. I looked up at him. He stood six feet tall or so. His eyes were blue and entirely calm. I expected them to look crazed but they looked cool and calm. He had a short, well trimmed beard that was dark brown, just like his well groomed, short hair. He wore a black shirt that clung tight to his torso. You could tell that he was very muscular. His large arms rippled with muscle out of his short sleeves. He wore jeans and cowboy boots. He could have been a fucking model but instead he was a psychopath.
"Okay, a few short rules. Speak only when spoken to. Do everything that is asked of you. Don't try anything stupid. Oh, and please refrain from using swear words, it's unbecoming of educated folks like yourselves, got that Mister?" Some sick fuck breaks into a house and holds the owner hostage and he doesn't like swear words! I of course replied yes.
He grabbed his duffle bags and unzipped it and reached in. He pulled out a video camera and tripod and began to set them up. He positioned it away from us about 15 feet and turned it on, presumably recording everything. What the hell did this guy want? I was afraid to ask and I there was no way I was even going to. But Jesus, did he want money? Did he want our valuables? I wanted to offer him anything to leave us the fuck alone. As though he could sense my thoughts, he spoke.
"Now, you are probably wondering what this is all about. First, I am not a killer. I will slice you if I have to but you won't end up dead, just permanently messed up for the rest of your life but if you just follow the rules you won't have to worry about that. Second, I am not a thief. I don't want your things, or your money or whatever you have to offer. What I do want is to conduct an experiment. You see, I'm a bit of an amateur psychologist, more of a hobby really. I've always been interested in the way people behave under extreme duress and how they behave when completely helpless. I used to believe they were completely irrational but the more I study them, patterns seem to appear. To learn more, I've had to find test subjects but finding people who have already had tremendous emotional experiences don't make for good subjects. Their recall is all jumbled with emotion and denial or anger. They turn out to be very poor subjects indeed. You see, what I needed were subjects that were presently experiencing high levels of stress and helplessness. What I needed were involuntary participants for my study. It didn't take me long to start finding my subjects. I record all of the events that happen and review them later for my journals. And you know, if all goes well, and we don't have to have any mishaps with this very sharp knife of mine, there may be a little financial compensation for your participation today. How's that sound?"
My wife was sobbing. I couldn't believe the words coming out of this man's mouth. He wanted to perform experiments on us just for fun? What kind of experiments? How the hell were we going to get out of this?
"That's okay, you don't have to answer that one. Now the first thing we're going to have to do is get our clothes off and since Mister and myself are complete gentlemen let's let the Mrs. go first. Ma'am."
What the hell? Was he going to rape my wife in front of me? My wife was hesitant but stood and turned around and began to take off her shirt. I sat there completely useless and helpless. I was feeling so much rage.
"Ma'am, there's nothing to be ashamed of, please turn around."
She slowly turned around but lowered her eyes from his gaze. Her night shirt clung to her breasts and then flopped onto her chest. My wife was gorgeous, blond and small, five foot and one inch with a good sized rack. In normal circumstances I would have sprung an erection and wanted to fuck her silly. She pulled the shirt over her head and dropped it to the floor. Our captor gave a quiet airy whistle and motioned for her to keep going. She dropped her shorts and underwear to the floor and stepped out of them. She was shaking and tried to cover her nakedness with her arms.
"Now, now, don't cover up that stunning body. It is absolutely a work of art. How did Mister ever get a catch like you? What are those beautiful breasts of yours, a D cup?"
She waited hoping not to answer but it was obvious by his silence and stare that he wanted one.
"C." That's all she said.
"Well, a mighty full C if you ask me, right Mister?"
