Fear - part 1

Michael could hear the blood thudding in his ears. He felt tense. He looked down at his palms and could see them glisten with sweat, not very attractive he knew but there was nothing he could do about it. He wiped his hands on his trousers, he had been repeating this action for the past hour with increasing rapidity the closer it got to her coming home. He tried to control his breathing, he slowed it down with a few deep breathes. It calmed down but he knew that as soon as he stopped consciously thinking about his breath that it would become more shallow and rapid again. He rubbed his hand along his jaw line, brushing against his stubble, he had forgotten to shave in his anxious state but now it was too late Ruth would be home soon. 

Looking at himself in the hall mirror he could see that his dirty blond hair was damp and stuck in strands to his fore head. He adjusted his clothes and ran his hands through his hair, he realised that he had been sorting his appearance out without looking himself in the eye. He felt ashamed at what he was about to do. He looked at his face, it was slightly ashen and drawn with tension and anticipation. His lips were pursed and his teeth grinding. All in all, he was rather sinister in his presentation.

He looked at the clock. Ten minutes and she should be home. He had better hide so that she didn't know that there was anyone in the house. That was the key, the element of surprise. His car was parked a few streets away. The front door was still locked so she would not know anyone was in her home. He could feel that tension and excitement building in his stomach. He could feel his cock was semi erect in expectancy.

When he had entered the property he had looked about for what he could use. There were the usual bath robe ties, a couple of silk scarves. He had thought momentarily about DNA evidence but he was wearing trainers that he had bought from the supermarket, clothes from the same place. Cheap and disposable and generic. He was had latex gloves in his pocket. He had tried out different types of gloves to see which ones he thought would be best but he always came back to latex. Easy to purchase, easy to dispose of and gave a good sensation when touching things, not too dulled. Michael had trimmed back all of his pubic hair so that none would be left behind; it felt strange the way his trousers rubbed against his dick and balls, no pants so that he could get easy access when he needed it. It wasn't unpleasant but it touched him in different ways that he was not used to. He had condoms ready, he was definitely not leaving that DNA evidence behind.

Eventually he had selected a pillow case, a couple of scarves and the bath robe tie. He had placed all but one of them in the living room where he wanted them. He rubbed his chin again and looked at the clock. Seven minutes to go. He could feel his arm pits becoming damp with his nervousness. Prickles of sweat beaded on his upper lip and forehead.

The key rasped in the lock in the front door. He froze. For a split second he considered not doing this. He could walk away, no one would get hurt, no one would be any the wiser, everything would be ok. He knew that by doing this things would change, they would be unrecognisably different. He was afraid. He was rather startled to discover that he was actually frightened, it was a shock to him, a revelation. His heart was pounding like it wanted to escape from his chest. His mouth was dry and he felt sick, like he was going to throw up right there and then, right on the hall carpet. A dribble of sweat ran down his back. He had to choose. Do this...or walk away.

He snuck under the stairs and ducked out of sight. Just in time as the front door started to open. Ruth was humming a pop tune. Cremating it was more like it, that woman could not carry a tune. She had her MP3 player in her ears so she would not hear him. His throat constricted making it difficult to swallow. He took the gloves out of his pocket and started to put them on. In his mind he was trying to justify what he was going to do. It was difficult. This was near his limit: if not some way past it. He crouched down and put his head in his hands. He was beginning to regret this already, but he was going to do it. He had made up his mind, he was determined.

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They had talked about it, Ruth and him. It was her idea. When they got drunk one night and started talking in earnest about fantasies he was surprised that she harboured an abduction fantasy, to be kidnapped and used by the perpetrator. She was very clear about not wanting to be raped or anything like that, nothing consensual/non-consensual, but to be taken and forced. When she had told him, he had just stared at her slack jawed. His stomach had done flips when she smiles that sweet innocent smile at him and told him that she wanted him to do it, to fulfil her fantasy and be her abductor. Michael was not that kind of guy. He was the soft hearted kind of guy who would even rescue worms from the tarmac after a shower of rain so they wouldn't get squashed. He had once crashed his car to avoid hitting a hedgehog that had been dead for 3 days, as it turned out. He defended people who couldn't stand up for themselves. You could not hope to meet a more morally upright, kind hearted, generous soul than Michael. He was the most unlikely abductor on the planet. Of course, this was why she loved him. She loved the kindness and the generosity. He was a tall powerful man, muscular without being fat. Sensitive to her needs and emotions without being too soppy or effeminate.

When they had sobered up, he had asked her again but was not surprised to discover that she was being serious. Ruth was a bold and brave woman. She would launch herself at new challenges and adventures and would appear to be frightened of nothing. She was a bit of an adrenalin junkie, doing all the usual crazy things like bungee jumping, sky diving, white water rafting. She also had an adventurous spirit. She had been known to quit one part of the country and just up sticks and go and move to another part just because she had not been there before. They complimented each other.

He had thought long and hard about this. That particular conversation was months ago. He would occasionally causally bring it up again to check out details, what her hard limits were, what she would like or find difficult. He squirreled the information away and slowly started formulating a plan. He knew he had to take her by surprise. That there should be no hint of what was to come. He had spent many nights thinking, mulling over, examining his thoughts and plans; twisting them around in his head so he could see them from every conceivable angle. She would often look at him on those nights and ask him what he was thinking but he would just turn and smile at her and say that he was thinking about the Formula 1 season.

It was finding the right balance between giving Ruth what she wanted, what he knew she secretly craved and being true to himself. To harm her would be to kill a little piece of his soul. He loved her with his whole being, mind and heart. He had to think of a mind fuck, something that would give her a thrill but be safe and controlled.

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She walked past him, sashaying her hips in time to the music and humming moronically. He could smell her perfume, sweet and spicey, hear her nylons slide against each other as she wiggled away. He watched as her skirt rode up as she walked, he drooled slightly at the sight of her fantastic legs; he loved those legs. She was wearing a shift dress. Easy to get access to all the parts he needed to but a bit of a pain to get off. He cursed himself for not remembering what she had put on this morning and then for not getting the scissors from the kitchen. Never mind, he knew the zip would burst easily. She would curse him for ruining the dress but he hoped what he had planned would be worth it, and that she would forgive him...eventually.

His hands gripped the pillow case. His heart leapt, he really did not think it could beat any faster but somehow it managed to. She had gone into the kitchen. Slowly he rose and crept along the hall. He could hear her in the kitchen emptying her bag of the remnants of her packed lunch. Half eaten sandwich flung into the bin and he fruit back into the fruit bowl, a little trick of hers to make him think that she had eaten more than she had. She always took a healthy lunch with her but he knew that she did not always eat it, it was a bone of contention between them. He wanted her to eat more and she would become stressed with work and lose her appetite; such was the way of the world. However, if she was emptying her bag he knew that her back would be facing him and this was his opportunity.

He entered the kitchen and slowly lifted the pillow case until it was shoulder height. Taking one final deep breath he confidently strode forward and rapidly pulled it down over her head.

There was a moment of silence that seemed to stretch on forever. Like being on a swing and reaching the top of the arc before gravity cottoned on to the fact that you were doing the impossible and needed to come down to Earth again.

Her hands flew up to her head and she took an almighty breath in. Her lungs filling with air, her ribs expanding. He winced in anticipation of the scream that would come out of her mouth but was surprised at the muffled noise that ensued. He knew he had to act fast to retain the upper hand, to be the master of the situation, not the victim of it. He already had his victim in his hands. He wrapped an arm around her chest and grabbed her throat tightly.

"Hello little girly", he growled into her ear. "I've been watching you. I see you flirting and teasing. It's about time someone taught you a lesson."

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Part 2 next week.