A Week to Themselves (M/MM)
Posted: Thu Feb 25, 2021 11:10 pm
Mondays! You've always hated them. This school year, just to make your Monday even worse, they've given you double math.
As you walk through the high school gates, you see your friends.
"Did you hear what happened to Steve?"
Steve? Who's Steve, you wonder.
"His house got broken into on Friday!"
Your other friends all seem to know about this story. They all butt in, wanting to be the person that tells you what happened.
"His parents were out, but he was in."
"The robber tied him up, and he was stuck like it for 4 hours till his parents came back!"
"No he wasn't! He was like that waaay after his parents got back."
"I heard he was gagged so well, it took his parents half an hour to find him!"
"I heard it was an hour!"
"Whatever. When they finally found Steve, they called 911. When they got there 20 minutes later, they were still untying him!"
"I think his mom worked on his gag and his dad was untying the rest of him."
"I thought it was the other way round..."
"It took 2 officers and his parents over an hour to finish untying him!"
"Wasn't it closer to 2?"
You get tired of this 4 Yorkshiremen skit your friends have dreamt up.
"This is total bullshit" you tell your friends. "It's impossible to tie someone up that much. A real robber would be in and out in 5 or 10 minutes, and even if they DID tie this Steve up, AND he couldn't get out himself, it wouldn't take FOUR people over a whole FUCKING HOUR to untie him! Where did you hear this bollocks?"
Everyone else thinks for a second, and all turn to look at one of your friends simultaniously.
"Er... Claire told me..." he mumbles.
"Claire? Fat liar Claire!?"
"Maybe she wasn't lying this time..."
The rest of your Monday crawls by. Time seems to be slowing down, because everytime you look at your watch, you feel an hour has gone, but the watch only shows a 10 minue jump. You can't wait till school is over. Your parents are going away for the week, so you've done what every sensible person would do; invite their boyfriend to stay for the week! Being an only child, that gives the two of the house to yourselves! At 19, he's 7 months older than you, but he's already got his life sorted. He's training to be a mechanic. Not the most glamorous job, but a good career on decent money.
Finally, school finishes. Everyone rushes home, but not you. As if Monday wasn't bad enough, for some reason you made it your cardio day too. Treadmill, bike, rowing machine, cross trainer, 20 minutes on each. By the time you make the mile long walk from the gym to your house, you are a sweaty mess. By going to a dirt cheap gym, you save money, but in return you exercise in a place where the air conditioning works rarely, and the showers even less than that.
You collapse on the sofa in your sitting room. You check your watch. 1 and a half hours till your boyfriend is due to arrive. Plenty of time to have a wash, get changed and buy a few things at the shop. But before any of that, you need to recover from your gruelling workout.
*KNOCK KNOCK*
Shit! You must have fallen asleep on the sofa! You look at your watch. Only 5 minutes have passed. Phew. Still plenty of time before your beloved turns up.
*KNOCK KNOCK*
"Alright! I'm coming!" Jesus. People have no patience.
You open the front door. A large man wearing a motorcycle helmet is on the other side, holding a big brown cardboard box. He is dressed all in black, with black gloves. Something about him seems off, but you're not quite sure what.
"Got a parcel for ya. Just need you to sign here."
You haven't ordered anything. Your parents must have ordered it and had forgotton to tell you. That box looks too big to go on the back of a bike, but you don't question it further.
You take the reader in one hand and the stylus in the other. He places the parcel just inside your front door. It looks light for a box of that size. Looking down at the screen on the reader, you find it's blank.
"MPPHHHH!!"
The delivery driver thrusts a cloth over your face with his right hand! His left hand is round the back of your head, crushing it between both his hands. The cloth smells sickly. You drop the reader and start panicking.
"HFFFFF!! HFFFFFFFF!"
As you struggle to fight him off, he drags you inside. He manuovers himself behind you. He forces the back of your head against his chest, and closes the front door with his free hand.
*THUD*
His wraps his free hand around your upper body, trying to stop your arms from moving around too much.
[img]
You feel your strength slowly leave your body. Your pleas for help are getting quieter, and your thoughts start to cloud. Your eyes catch the large cardboard box again. There is no name and address sticker on it! This guy is definitely not a delivery driver.
"Breathe! Breathe deep little boy!" he growls into your ear. You flail your arms around. Or, you try to. They feel like they're made of lead. "Hffff" you cry, desperately hoping to attract some attention. You can feel something poke faintly at your lower back. This gives you a burst of adrenaline. You briefly manage to free your right arm from his grip, but he merely grabs your body again, holding you tight, close to his body. You feel something poking your lower back again.
The chloroform is doing it's work. You are now down to your knees. Your eyelids feel heavy. He feels safe enough to take his hand away from your body.
"I propose a swap. The contents of this box for everything you own." He uses the hand holding the cloth over your nose and mouth to make you nod your head. "Fantastic. I knew you'd agree!" His voice sounds full of malice. He bends over, and removes the strip of packing tape sealing the box closed. The flaps open immediately, as though whatever is inside was crammed in to the point of overflowing. "Why, it's your new outfit! It's BOUND to look good on you! Get it? Bound?"
He holds your now half conscious body over to the box. While keeping the cloth over your lower face, he forces you to look inside.
[img]
"mmmmmm?!"
The cardboard box, 3 foot wide, 2 foot long and 2 foot deep, is filled to capacity with rope and tape! What did he mean by outfit, exactly? The question leaves your brain before you've even finished asking yourself. Your chloroform addled mind can now only stare at the contents of the box. Miles of rope and at least 7 big rolls of tape are the last thing you see before you finally pass out.
==============================================================================================================================
Spacing is deliberate. I wanted to put the second image behind a spoiler as a surprise, but doing it breaks the image, so I compromised. If that's a deliberate feature, I understand why it's there completely. I'm not asking for it's removal. Just want to explain why there's a huge gap.
As you walk through the high school gates, you see your friends.
"Did you hear what happened to Steve?"
Steve? Who's Steve, you wonder.
"His house got broken into on Friday!"
Your other friends all seem to know about this story. They all butt in, wanting to be the person that tells you what happened.
"His parents were out, but he was in."
"The robber tied him up, and he was stuck like it for 4 hours till his parents came back!"
"No he wasn't! He was like that waaay after his parents got back."
"I heard he was gagged so well, it took his parents half an hour to find him!"
"I heard it was an hour!"
"Whatever. When they finally found Steve, they called 911. When they got there 20 minutes later, they were still untying him!"
"I think his mom worked on his gag and his dad was untying the rest of him."
"I thought it was the other way round..."
"It took 2 officers and his parents over an hour to finish untying him!"
"Wasn't it closer to 2?"
You get tired of this 4 Yorkshiremen skit your friends have dreamt up.
"This is total bullshit" you tell your friends. "It's impossible to tie someone up that much. A real robber would be in and out in 5 or 10 minutes, and even if they DID tie this Steve up, AND he couldn't get out himself, it wouldn't take FOUR people over a whole FUCKING HOUR to untie him! Where did you hear this bollocks?"
Everyone else thinks for a second, and all turn to look at one of your friends simultaniously.
"Er... Claire told me..." he mumbles.
"Claire? Fat liar Claire!?"
"Maybe she wasn't lying this time..."
The rest of your Monday crawls by. Time seems to be slowing down, because everytime you look at your watch, you feel an hour has gone, but the watch only shows a 10 minue jump. You can't wait till school is over. Your parents are going away for the week, so you've done what every sensible person would do; invite their boyfriend to stay for the week! Being an only child, that gives the two of the house to yourselves! At 19, he's 7 months older than you, but he's already got his life sorted. He's training to be a mechanic. Not the most glamorous job, but a good career on decent money.
Finally, school finishes. Everyone rushes home, but not you. As if Monday wasn't bad enough, for some reason you made it your cardio day too. Treadmill, bike, rowing machine, cross trainer, 20 minutes on each. By the time you make the mile long walk from the gym to your house, you are a sweaty mess. By going to a dirt cheap gym, you save money, but in return you exercise in a place where the air conditioning works rarely, and the showers even less than that.
You collapse on the sofa in your sitting room. You check your watch. 1 and a half hours till your boyfriend is due to arrive. Plenty of time to have a wash, get changed and buy a few things at the shop. But before any of that, you need to recover from your gruelling workout.
*KNOCK KNOCK*
Shit! You must have fallen asleep on the sofa! You look at your watch. Only 5 minutes have passed. Phew. Still plenty of time before your beloved turns up.
*KNOCK KNOCK*
"Alright! I'm coming!" Jesus. People have no patience.
You open the front door. A large man wearing a motorcycle helmet is on the other side, holding a big brown cardboard box. He is dressed all in black, with black gloves. Something about him seems off, but you're not quite sure what.
"Got a parcel for ya. Just need you to sign here."
You haven't ordered anything. Your parents must have ordered it and had forgotton to tell you. That box looks too big to go on the back of a bike, but you don't question it further.
You take the reader in one hand and the stylus in the other. He places the parcel just inside your front door. It looks light for a box of that size. Looking down at the screen on the reader, you find it's blank.
"MPPHHHH!!"
The delivery driver thrusts a cloth over your face with his right hand! His left hand is round the back of your head, crushing it between both his hands. The cloth smells sickly. You drop the reader and start panicking.
"HFFFFF!! HFFFFFFFF!"
As you struggle to fight him off, he drags you inside. He manuovers himself behind you. He forces the back of your head against his chest, and closes the front door with his free hand.
*THUD*
His wraps his free hand around your upper body, trying to stop your arms from moving around too much.
[img]
You feel your strength slowly leave your body. Your pleas for help are getting quieter, and your thoughts start to cloud. Your eyes catch the large cardboard box again. There is no name and address sticker on it! This guy is definitely not a delivery driver.
"Breathe! Breathe deep little boy!" he growls into your ear. You flail your arms around. Or, you try to. They feel like they're made of lead. "Hffff" you cry, desperately hoping to attract some attention. You can feel something poke faintly at your lower back. This gives you a burst of adrenaline. You briefly manage to free your right arm from his grip, but he merely grabs your body again, holding you tight, close to his body. You feel something poking your lower back again.
The chloroform is doing it's work. You are now down to your knees. Your eyelids feel heavy. He feels safe enough to take his hand away from your body.
"I propose a swap. The contents of this box for everything you own." He uses the hand holding the cloth over your nose and mouth to make you nod your head. "Fantastic. I knew you'd agree!" His voice sounds full of malice. He bends over, and removes the strip of packing tape sealing the box closed. The flaps open immediately, as though whatever is inside was crammed in to the point of overflowing. "Why, it's your new outfit! It's BOUND to look good on you! Get it? Bound?"
He holds your now half conscious body over to the box. While keeping the cloth over your lower face, he forces you to look inside.
[img]
"mmmmmm?!"
The cardboard box, 3 foot wide, 2 foot long and 2 foot deep, is filled to capacity with rope and tape! What did he mean by outfit, exactly? The question leaves your brain before you've even finished asking yourself. Your chloroform addled mind can now only stare at the contents of the box. Miles of rope and at least 7 big rolls of tape are the last thing you see before you finally pass out.
==============================================================================================================================
Spacing is deliberate. I wanted to put the second image behind a spoiler as a surprise, but doing it breaks the image, so I compromised. If that's a deliberate feature, I understand why it's there completely. I'm not asking for it's removal. Just want to explain why there's a huge gap.