Bag of Choice

The house was far bigger than I was comfortable being left alone in. Lights left on all night would make noticeable blips in the utility bill at the end of the month and, unfortunately, my parents were maybe the only people on the planet that actually checked those that carefully. Making the rounds from far end of the basement, to the basement patio, to the wine cellar, up the stairs, the front, office, garage, and back doors.. Way too many locks that could be picked in the middle of the night. Way too many lights to be turned off and dimmed so their absences allowed moonlight to stream in and.. make shadowy figures of coats on coat racks and loose branches from gnarled trees outside cold windows. I hurried around in my socks and jeans. These irrational fears still haunted me, even at twenty two. What a wuss.

Why was it always so quiet on nights like these? Would rain and howling wind have been better? What the fuck would a burglar care about besides.. mm. I put a hand over my mouth and one down my pants and leaned against the front door. That's it.. distract yourself with the thought of what they'd want with you. Little.. fucked up, goodie boy house sitting for his parents and rubbing his crotch on the cold.. freezing cold window because the neighbors will never look across the street at this time of night. It's crystal fucking clear outside on Christmas week, you're home alone, they've got your house pegged for an easy target..

*ERRRRRH!*

The dryer finished. I pulled the wet finger out of my mouth and a pre-come glazed hand up my abs and skipped over to the laundry room. Warm pyjamas and a.. fresh pair of undies. Welcome suggestion on a night where I wasn't allowed to bring the temperature above 65F and my bare chest was fully aware of it. Folding the rest of the clothes and accidentally brushing my chest wasn't so bad either, my stupid ass leaned over the bedside back in the guest room like the bendy straw in ya boy's milkshake. I flicked off the light, breathed in, breathed out, and closed the bedroom door, repeating in my head a small chant, "You're safe, this is a rich neighborhood, no one will hurt you. You're safe, this is a rich neighborhood. You're safe." So reassured I strode cock out to the bedside in the dark and sllllid my way on, the cushy edge guiding me forward into the soft, warm sheets. "Think calm, good thoughts. Waking up tomorrow will be so nice, so perfectly quiet and serene. If someone does come in the night, they'll have planned this for weeks in advance. They know it's just you. They looked you up online. Maybe they're even here just for you? You're so eaaaasy. You'd beg and plead for your life. You want someone to show up, don't you?"

These were better things to think of than anxiousness, especially when trying to fall asleep. The crystalline silence outside hadn't budged at all. I laid on the bed beneath the blankets, the stuffie I'd brought along clenched tightly to my chest, dreaming of villains and capture and true love..

...

And I found my eyes open still. Or.. had I just woken up? Had I fallen asleep or was I just still here. What time is it?

*THUMPthump*

The guttural "mm-muh" that came from my lips was not.. not helpful. "Mm!" I was in sleep paralysis, clearly.

*CRREAAK- WHOUMP!*

"hhUUAAAAAA!! WHo the FUCK is there?!!!?!"

..

...

....

The door had just opened and something was thrown in. A.. something heavy. I exhaled as I yelled and yelled as I exhaled because this made turning my body to turn the lamp on seemingly safer. The adrenaline was.. making my vision white and blurry and too fast and HOLY SHIT there's no one in the room, I had imagined someone standing there..

*BUMP*

"HEY! HEYY!! W-WHO THE FUCK IS iS...!"

..

..

The door closed but I hadn't seen the hand that had grabbed it it was just closed, now. There was a huge duffel bag with the zipper undone and a note on top I think so I got up and.. went over to it. It's right in front of the door so I have to lean over and.. I'm still holding my stuffed elephant, why the fuck am I still holding her- okay, the note says..

Put on everything in the bag, then get inside.

If you don't, I will cut your skin off. You have 30 minutes.

*BUMP*

"Aaamm." A meaningless noise was all I could give.

I felt something warm down my legs but I wasn't sure it was.. it was the pyjamas, right? Why didn't I yell? Shouldn't I be yelling right now? What's inside the bag, what's inside the bag.. it's.. it's a lot of stuff.

*BUMPBUMPBUMP*

"Yes! Yes! Okay!"

What are you do-uh, going to uh, you can't, there's a two story drop and the window.. the win- you'd break your legs. Don't reach for the door. Don't reach for the door, there's a person there. Holy shit, breath- WOW there's a person behind the door, okay look down, look in the bag, what's in the bag.

There's a muzzle, the thick leather ones, start with- no, you need to yell- No, we need to put something on, we need to proceed, proceed with the muzzle. The leather is much, much thicker than anything you own.

// It's a muzzle gag, in that it goes under the chin, over the mouth, around the jaw. The straps run over the nose and up the forehead, below your ears and behind the nape of the neck, and twice in an X across the side of your head and over the crown. Whimper, small thing, whimper your lips pressed to the fitted muzzle, the sounds of a canine inside its cage coming from your plush pink-painted lipsss.//

Mmm. Mm. This fits so well. Holy christ. My heart is thumping so hard, I can.. I can barely think.

*BUMP*

"Mmm! Mm!"

There's a quiet tapping at the door where their boot, their.. shit, I can only presume it's a boot is.. tapping some kind of agreement, like they're telling me to carry on. Breathe- breathe through your nose, your nose now. In, out, mm, in, mm out. There's a collar too, a thick collar, same leather, it's.. wow, this is heavy.

// It's your collar. It slides over the under-chin flap of the muzzle. We'll attach them later with a belt loop that you can't see anymore. It has three straps, two with buckles to seal, and then a third I hope you find, that reaches from the bottom of the back of the collar, which itself is 2 inches tall and a meaty 4cm thick, to the middle of the back of your head. "Mmm! Mm." Oh, you found it, good. It doesn't go any tighter than it needs to, to keep your head up.//

I can't.. I have to lean forward more dramatically now to.. see into the bag. There's a blindfold and a.. a four-piece handcuff? No, this is two.. two sets of leather cuffs for.. oh, okay.

*Thapthap.*

"Mhm, mhm. Mm."

I'm picking up the pace, I promise. Mm. Okay, blindfold first.

// It's pretty simple. It's made just for your face. The band is elastic and goes over the head. It's temporary until we get back home.//

And the.. the cuffs, if I can find them, but..

// You put the legs through first and buckle those. Now they're stuck together, no more than an inch apart at any time. They're temporary too but I need you completely fucking immobile before I can get this bag zipped up, and over, and down your length, and sealed until you're just a bag. Don't forget your wrists, but it's easy, because I gave you just enough room to twist your hands around and buckle both in while you're wearing them. But what you don't notice, with your blindfold on, or in your panicky, adrenaline-fueled state, is that the tip of the prong is a little bit barbed, and that's not coming out unless I help you two-hand it. I can hear the carabiner between the two sets tinking around. You're stuck.//

Thank god. I remembered to sit in the bag. Okay, I'm in the bag.

"Mm!! Mm!"

I hear the door open. There's a wave of cold air from the rest of the house. I can feel someone fucking huge step next to me. I can feel them leaning over me. I can feel their warmth. Holy Christ. Holy shit. I'm shaking. I can't think.

"Shhh. Good dog. Shhhh."

Her voice is gruff but it's mm it's so nice. What is this?! What the fuck is th- there's a cotton work glove and a huge arm down my pyjamas and it's grabbing my stomach and searching in my crotch and AAA "MMM!!"

// I told you to be quiet, and now I'm going to push you forward a little more than you deserve, into this beautiful pike you've made with your trembling body. You're going to moan as you feel me move the sides of the duffel bag up and around your arms and legs, and push you down a little farther into this tough, tough position, and you might even start to feel a little bit of the piss that's dappling your pyjamas on your pert nuts and the underside of your admittedly stiff penis.

I'm going to push you down so far that your hammies get a little tense and you moan and whimper like I'm going to love hearing you do, oh so often for me, and then the zipper is going to start to creep over your spine, the teeth going along each vertebrae, and I'm going to gently, because I do love you, nudge your head down one last little bit, and the two zippers are going to come together there in the middle. The handle that runs along and over the zipper that sealed you off, I will lift. It's going to get a little uncomfortable for you and now you'll start to shake and squeal even, and think about what's happening now that your pain is just the slightest bit more than your pleasure, but when we get to my truck you'll relax for a moment and maybe, just maybe, you'll thank me.

Because, ultimately, I was never going to skin you alive. I knew you'd get in the bag.