I went out on a date last night with Mark. It was just a dinner date. I’ve been on a couple of dates with him before, and they weren’t anything super eventful. He didn’t even kiss me good-bye either time and I was surprised he even asked me out again. He was driving me home and said he had to stop at his place to get something. He didn’t want to tell me what, and I actually imagined he’d bought me flowers and he was going to surprise me.
His phone rang as we were pulling up in front of his place. He answered it as he was shutting off the car and then put his hand over it. “This might keep me a few minutes,” he said, “would you rather wait inside?”
I didn’t really think much about it. I liked Mark. He’s very good looking and he’d been a perfect gentleman through three dates. I followed him in. He was talking on the phone again while he pulled out a chair for me to sit in, a pretty dark brown wooden one with scrolled arms. I sat down in it and wrapped my fingers around the scrolls, admiring the chair, and the way the scrolls seemed to fit my fingers.
Mark had picked up a long white sash, like you might use in a ribbon dance. He was bunching it quickly to keep it off the floor, or at least that’s what I thought. He stepped a little out of my vision and then suddenly, faster than I could even react, he looped it tightly around my left wrist and then across and around my right, pinning my hands to the arms of the chair. I started to scream and the second my mouth opened the sash went through it and around the back of the chair.
I lurched forward and kicked my feet, screaming and trying to knock the chair over, but it was heavy and I’m pretty small. All he had to do was hold it down with his foot, while he carefully gagged my mouth.
He looped the sash under my arms and around my waist and pulled me back into the chair with it. Then he tilted the chair backward and threw a loop around my right ankle while I was kicking, ran it behind the leg of the chair, pulled it tight to pull my foot down and then set the chair down. He grabbed my left ankle and pushed my other foot down and then began to slowly wrap me up like a mummy.
The sash seemed to go on forever, or perhaps he had several of them. I couldn’t really see what he was doing with my head tied back. My first reaction was the kind of sick feeling I get inside whenever I see an insect being wrapped in a spider web. I actually pictured him poisoning me with his sting and then drinking me after the enzymes digested me.
He never said a word, but now he turned and looked at me while he worked. I was terrified and he seemed to enjoy the look of terror in my eyes. He ran the bunched up sash between my thighs and instantly my head was full of all the horror stories about guys who used instruments and tools. My arms and legs were completely wrapped now and I could barely move. I could only stare at his sickeningly peaceful smile.
Mark carefully wrapped my body to the back of the chair from the waist up until all that was left was my face. He straddled me now, my knees just inches from satisfaction but helpless to reach it. Leaning his face close to mine, one slow loop at a time, he bound my head, reaching up a couple of times to gently wipe the tears away from my eyes. And then he pulled the last two loops around my eyes and tied off the sash.
I heard him walk into his kitchen. I could hear him opening cupboards and drawers and then running water. I could only guess what horrible plans he had. I pictured him grabbing a scissors and returning to cut my panties with them. I could feel kitchen utensils violating me, but none of that happened. Mark made coffee. For several agonizing minutes, all I could do was listen while it percolated. When it was done I heard him pour two cups. He brought them out and set them on the table, pushing one of them closer to me.
“Would you like some coffee?” he asked.
He sounded almost as if he really expected an answer. I listened as he sat quietly sipping his own cup. When it was gone, he unwrapped me as carefully as he had wrapped me. I wanted to kill him, but I was scared to death of him now and of what he could do to me. I sat motionless except for my uncontrollable shaking until I was completely free. Then a funny, kind of sad look came over Mark’s face.
“You never touched your coffee,” he said. Then he shook it off and held out his hand. “I’ve kept you long enough. Come on, I’ll drive you home.”
I avoided his hand and got up on my own. I followed him back to his car and he drove me home. He was a perfect gentleman the entire way. “Thank you, Annie, I had a wonderful time,” he said when I got out of the car. “I’ll call you, okay?”
I just stared at him in numb silence.
He smiled and drove away.
© 2011 Anne Schilde