Peter entered his dark four-bedroom home through the patio door since the gate to his backyard was next to his garage. He got slightly more buzzed than he was expecting at a Memorial Day barbeque with his friends, which Peter left early with hopes of sobering up enough to avoid being hungover for his 6 a.m. nursing shift the following day. His house was empty and quiet because one of his roommates was currently working in China and his other two roommates were still enjoying themselves at the barbeque he just left and will likely continue their fun by bar-hopping downtown.
Peter is a 32 year old ginger bear with icy blue eyes and a soft midsection. He’s about 6’2 and 240 pounds. He has a baby face with a cropped, red beard and a pronounced Greek nose. Peter doesn’t put a lot of effort into his appearance, but he likes to keep his short undercut with a mid taper fade neat, especially during the summer. Since the weather has been rather humid, Peter is wearing a navy blue short-sleeved woven shirt with a small white polka dot print, faded pinkish-red shorts that end just above his knees revealing his thick hairy legs and leg tattoos, and dark brown flip flops. Even though his outfit was season-appropriate, Peter wasn’t a fan of collared shirts and couldn’t wait to undo his buttons and free himself from the sweat puddles that accumulated on the armpit, chest, and back areas of the shirt.
Before he had a chance to get comfortable, however, Peter heard a noise he wasn’t expecting in the house. It was some kind of rumbling in the dining room on the other side of the house. The only light in the house was coming from the kitchen, which was in between the living room that Peter was in and the dining room, leaving the surrounding areas fairly dim. With clouded judgment, Peter called out for one of his roomates even though he knew they wouldn’t be home.
“Claire?”
The rumbling suddenly stopped for a few seconds, which was fairly alarming to Peter. He stopped in his tracks and even sobered up a little. He was about to call for his roommate, David, when a man stepped into the lit kitchen from the dining room.
“Wha… Who ar…” Peter fought to find the right words for the intruder, but was interrupted.
“Hey! You live here? I’m the new maintenance guy. I hear your dishwasher has been leaving stagnant water?” The man asked with a friendly tone, but sounded like he wasn’t actually interested in Peter’s response.
This both relieved and further confused Peter at the same time because he can remember having dishwasher issues, but he and his roommates have been too busy to report the issue to their landlord. Not to mention, why would they send someone on a Saturday evening?
Peter hesitates, then says “H-Hey! Yeah… that seems to be the issue…”
“Great! I was just in the other room rummaging through my tools… I have them scattered all over your table in here. I hope you don’t mind...” The man responded, then continued rambling on about all the calls he’s been getting today when Peter suddenly felt something cold and metallic graze the back of his neck.
Before having a chance to turn around, Peter heard what was clearly the sound of a gun being loaded. He froze up completely. The supposed maintenance man continued rambling until he looked back at Peter again to see the person pointing a gun at him.
His face softened and in a relieved voice, he said “Fuck, man! What took you so long? Your slow ass had me pulling all kinds of plumbing bullshit about this guy’s dishwasher out of thin air. I didn’t know how much longer I’d have to keep this plumber bit up!”
The man with a gun responded, “My apologies, dipshit. I was making sure that the kid came alone… I know his roommates probably won’t be coming home for a couple of hours though.”
Peter’s mind was racing about how these guys knew when his roommates will be home, or what they were doing in his house, or what was going to happen to him.
“I… I…” Peter started to plead with the men by saying that he doesn’t want any trouble, but was interrupted by the gun-wielder.
“I suggest that you keep your mouth shut, kid. Keep your hands where I can see them and slowly walk towards the kitchen,” said the guy sharply.
Peter slowly raised his hands up by his shoulders and moved forward.
“Bring a chair in here, will you?” Demanded the guy with a gun to the one in the kitchen as him and Peter got closer. The supposed maintenance worker did as he was told. Now that Peter was closer to him, he noticed that he was older, possibly mid-50s, with a thin, scraggly, beard.
“You, have a seat and don’t try anything.” The man with a gun said as he turned Peter around to face him and shoved him onto the seat. He looked a bit younger than the other guy and was more burly.
“You, keep on eye on him while I look around the house for something to tie him up with… Of all the times we’ve done this, the one time we have someone come home early, you forget the damn rope!” The guy said as he nudged the older man’s shoulder and walked out of the kitchen.
Peter quivered in the wooden chair at the thought of getting tied up. He thought that he can probably take the older man and make a run for it before being made completely helpless, but wasn’t sure if both of these guys were armed. Plus, even though he found this experience completely sobering, Peter realized that he’s still fairly drunk and his moves might not be as precise as he’d need them to be. However, he mustered up as much fight-or-flight as he could and charged at the older man, pinning him against his sink.
The man groaned in pain because Peter had at least 50 pounds on him, but the older man was able to swing right for Peter’s face. Peter fought to pin the guy down, so he can reach for a knife from a drawer, but suddenly felt an arm wrap around his neck and pull tight. Peter’s face turned pinker than usual as blood rushed to his head. He let go of the older man as he fought to lower the other guy’s arm so he can breath. The other guy firmly held Peter in a headlock without much effort and tossed some of Peter’s roommate’s rolled up clothesline at the older guy. Without fully composing himself, the older guy quickly plucked Peter’s right wrist off of the other guy’s arm and looped some clothesline around it. He started tugging on Peter’s other hand to tie his wrists in front of him when the guy holding Peter walked him back to the chair and sat him down, loosening his grip a little even though Peter stopped fighting.
“Make sure to actually tie him to the chair, so there’s less room for him to try something,” demanded the guy holding Peter as the older guy pulled Peter’s hands behind the back of the chair instead and firmly secured them together with the thin rope.
Peter didn’t pass out, but he was weak. He sat limply in the chair as the older man secured his hairy legs to the front legs of the chair.
“You get anything for his torso? I don’t think this clothesline will hold such a big fella” asked the older guy once Peter’s limbs were restrained.
The other guy handed him a belt he found and said “This has some stretch to it, so it should hold him… You might also want to take the belt he’s wearing for extra security, since we know he likes to be difficult.”
That kind of made Peter snap out of his headlock daze. The older man stretched the first belt around Peter and the chair, resting it just under his supple chest and over his arms, then fastened the belt behind him. Peter squirmed in his binds out of sheer awkwardness as the older man walked around him and leaned over to undo the belt Peter was wearing. With one swipe, the older man removed the leather belt from Peter’s shorts. He then strapped Peter’s belly to the back of the chair, forcing him to sit up straight as he buckled the belt. Peter tried his best to hide his discomfort and didn’t want these home invaders to see him struggle.
“If all goes well, being tied up will be the worst thing that happens to you tonight,” said the older man in a reassuring way, but Peter found the statement a bit more threatening.
Then the man added, “don’t worry, we aren’t going to kill or even rob you” he lowered his voice so his partner doesn’t hear, “we’re just using your house to lay low and wait for our getaway driver.”
The older man stopped short when his partner walked in. The younger man looked pleased to see Peter completely tied down. Now that Peter was restrained, the two guys spoke more comfortably about their plans. Peter tried to appear as if he wasn’t eavesdropping, but it was difficult considering how he was physically incapable of distracting himself. Not to mention, the more violent subjects made Peter uncomfortable because he didn’t want to “know too much.”
Peter also didn’t want to seem too reactive or as if he would make a lot of noise out of fear of getting gagged since that seems to be what happens when people are tied up in movies and TV shows. Aside from the physical discomfort or inability to call out for help if he needed to, the thought of having his mouth also restrained made him uneasy because it reminds him of constantly being told to shut up by his siblings and friends as a kid. Peter was quite babbly as a kid, but the constant silencing has made him self-conscious and a man of few words.
Peter’s restraints really started to dig into his flesh. He couldn’t help but struggle in attempt to find ease. The home invaders stopped talking and looked over at Peter. The younger one chuckled and patted Peter on the shoulder on his way out of the kitchen. Peter looked at the older guy for an explanation. He didn’t say anything, but opened one of Peter’s cabinets and recovered a pink dishrag. The older man walked behind Peter and with one hand, held Peter’s chin down and shoved the rag in Peter’s mouth with the other. Peter raspily grunted and tried moving his head out of the man’s grip, but there was no escape.
“Come on, I’m not letting go until the whole thing is in there” said the older man as he smoothed the rag between Peter’s full, pink lips with his fingers, causing him to cough as the cloth grazed his tonsils. Peter’s face reddened again. His round cheekbones flexed under his pained eyes. His bearded chin and jaw hung low and cheeks stretched from his mouth being filled.
“Yeah… Nobody likes being gagged...” the older man said as if he were reminiscing about tying up other guys. He began wrapping about five layers of clothesline around Peter’s mouth to prevent him from spitting out the rag. Then he continues, “but it has to be done. That way, we can ensure that you don’t attract any unwanted attention before we have a chance to get far enough away… Even the quietest of guys can be unexpected screamers.” Peter rolled his eyes at the guy’s sentiment.
“Now, can you do me a solid and call out for me?” asked the older man to Peter’s bewilderment.
“Come on, boy! As if you needed to pee and one of your buddies just walked into the house and missed you in the darkness on his way to puke in the bathroom” insisted the man.
Still unsure of what the man wants from him or why, Peter let out a weak groan.
“This isn’t a trick, boy. I want you to be as loud as you can… Your drunk and tired roommate’s not gonna hear that, which means you won’t be untied until morning with that weak shit” the man suggested.
The thought of being tied up until morning weighed on Peter because he was already feeling sore. This made him muster up a little more than a groan.
“HhhRrrMmmphh!” Peter choked out with his muffled mid-pitch raspy voice.
The older guy looked a bit amused with Peter’s attempt, but he still didn’t seem that satisfied. He leaned over and rested one of his arms on Peter’s shoulder. With his other arm, he reached for the front pocket of his jeans and pulled out a small pocket knife. Peter’s eyes widened as the blade was drawn and raised toward his throat.
“Now, I want you to shout like your life depended on it...” said the older man before gliding his knife under the second button of Peter’s shirt, cutting the thread and making the button drop to Peter’s lap.
Peter’s face flooded with fear and he found himself softly begging through his gag as the guy put the obviously sharp knife back to his throat.
“Shout for me” demanded the older guy.
Peter gulped and shouted as loud as he could.
“HHHhhRRrrrMMMmmph… HhhRrrMmmphhh!” was all Peter could manage with his voice now getting hoarse.
Peter anxiously waited for the man to respond, which felt like forever.
“Not bad… That sound probably didn’t even leave this room!” said the older man as though Peter’s muffled gibberish convinced him of something.
He walked back around to face Peter who still looked agitated.
“That’s how I test to see how effective a gag is” he explained, “you would think that simply stuffing a dude’s mouth would do the trick, but you’d be surprised how loud some baritone guys can be when they’re eager to be untied.”
Just like that, the older man was back to being pleasant with Peter who was still trying to settle his nerves. Since Peter’s button was the only casualty from this encounter, his shirt slightly opened, revealing some of his ginger chest hair.
“That should give us some time before someone finds you and calls the cops,” said the other guy as he fixes Peter’s collar.
The younger guy walked in and looked at Peter now tied, gagged, and distressed looking, which seemed to satisfy him because a smirk peeled across his face. He then looked at his partner.
“Havin’ fun?” he asked.
“Oh, y’know. We don’t want him calling for help and getting the neighbors all riled up before we’re more than a few miles away from here” responded the older man, sounding a bit bashful.
“Mhmm…” the younger guy continued to smirk. “Well, Keys said that he’s just around the corner, so let’s get this show on the road after kissing your boyfriend goodbye” he added, then winked at Peter.
The younger guy patted Peter on the head and headed out. The older guy chuckled, then patted Peter’s shoulder. He turned the kitchen light off on his way out, leaving Peter in the dark. When he was positive that the home invaders were far enough, Peter began really struggling and fighting his binds. After a couple minutes of struggling, Peter realized that there was no getting out of the belts and clothesline and that the chair he was tied to was too sturdy to break. Even though it was confirmed that his gag was really effective, he tried hollering for help again. However, Peter’s only chance of being noticed would be if one of his neighbor’s would happen to walk by his big kitchen window on the side of his house, but it was already pretty late. At least his roommates will most likely be home within a few hours.
THE END
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