At The Edge

An eBook By Marty Rayne.

Michael gave a nod but realized his attacker wouldn't be able to see it.

"Yes," he forced past his constricted throat, wishing he'd taken those self-defense courses that were offered at the college. But would they have really helped him now? He couldn't see his attacker, and he wasn't sure that there was just one. The pressure on his neck lessened as a hand gripped one of Michael's biceps tightly. He was guided in the direction of his bed. "Sit." The command was gruff, and Michael obeyed, thinking the faster the robbery occurred, the faster he could get to help and report it. "Lie back." Another order was issued. Michael did as commanded, now wishing that he'd stayed at the club with his friends; wishing he'd not been so depressed and distracted, that maybe he would have seen a sign of a break-in to his room.

One arm was lifted above his head and secured to the bedpost with some sort of rope. Michael gasped at the feel of the soft yet thick material as it encircled his wrist tightly, but not so tight that it would stop the circulation. He lay there speechless, frozen by fear...and anxiety of what was to happen next. Within moments, his other wrist was secured in the same manner.

A shiver ran through Michael's body even as he broke out in a sweat, and his stomach fluttered with a mixture of fear and excitement. His conscious mind screamed that he should be terrified by some stranger binding him to a bed with unknown intentions, but that couldn't stop the surge of blood that rushed to his groin.

Michael's head was raised with surprising gentleness, and a blindfold was tied tightly over his eyes.

"Please." Michael said softly, feeling suddenly embarrassed that he felt the need to nearly beg. "Why are you doing this?"

There was a rustling nearby followed by a click, and the sound sent his fear spiking. What was this man doing? What did he want? Had he been chosen at random, or had he been targeted for some reason? Michael had little of value, only a couple hundred dollars left over from his spending money, which had put him in debt with his credit card.

The silence grated on his nerves, intensifying the already frightening experience. Why didn't this man answer him? Don't criminals usually like to tell their victims of their devious plans? Okay, maybe Michael had watched one too many crime shows on TV.

"I don't..." He started to speak again when something was shoved into his mouth. Michael turned his head and tried to push it out, but a hand grabbed his chin so hard that Michael opened his jaw wider to relieve the pressure. The object was round and forced his mouth as wide as it would go. Michael realized that it was a gag and was strapped tightly to his head.

Panic swept through him. His instincts kicked in, admittedly too late, and he started struggling against the ropes that held his wrists and tried to call out for help. But, the ropes held him tightly and the gag made his cries muffled and unidentifiable. That didn't stop Michael from continuing until he lay exhausted, his chest heaving at a rapid pace as he drew air through his nose. "Done?" Michael's attacker asked. His voice was steady and patient. Michael tried to plead to be released but only a groan came out as he realized that he now sported a hard-on that pressed painfully against his jeans. How could this much fear be so arousing? "Don't worry. I'm almost done with you." What did that mean? What was he going to do next? The entire situation was frightening, but deep down exhilarating. Hadn't he fantasized about being taken similar to this? Being forced into bondage and loving every minute of it. But, it was always Todd doing the forcing. Not some stranger.

Michael's shirt was suddenly ripped opened, startling him. Then he felt the blades of scissors as the material was cut away. Michael held perfectly still, not wanting the sharp blades accidentally nipping his skin. Being wounded wouldn't help his situation.

Next went his pants. But, instead of being cut from him, hands unbuckled the belt and released the buttons before pulling them off along with his shoes and socks. He now lay in complete undress on the bed. Powerless. Vulnerable. Sporting a raging hard-on that could hammer nails into wood.

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