On Bended Knee
Prelude
There was music playing in his living room. It was turned up loud enough to drown out the noise coming from inside the bedroom. Rob Miller dared a quick glance behind him, towards the shadowed figure that was hovering near the closet door. The music was turned up. But he lived in an apartment building. If he screamed for help loud enough, one of his neighbors might hear him and call the police. But before he could act, he felt the muzzle of the gun pressing into the back of his head.
"You'll be dead before they get here," his assailant threatened.
He lay motionless for a moment, his naked body covered in a thin sheen of sweat. He could smell himself. It wasn't the same odor he produced when he was working out. This was different, more sharp. It occurred to Rob in that moment that he could smell his own terror.
"Keep going."
Rob thrust his hips against the mattress. But he was unable to even maintain his erection, let alone find the release that his assailant was demanding. All he was doing was rubbing himself raw against the sweat stained sheets underneath him. He was scared. And in pain. He tugged against the zip ties that were holding his wrists against the headboard. They were cutting into his skin. His wrists were starting to feel slick and he wasn't sure in the dim light if what he was feeling was blood or sweat. Rob tried to fight them back, but he couldn't stop the tears that were welling up in his eyes.
"I can't," he sobbed. "I'm sorry, I can't do this. Please…"
Rob felt the hard press of the gun against the back of his head again. He started to cry harder, hoping his attacker might show him some mercy. He didn't want to die like this, naked on his bed with sheets under him that still bore the remnants of his last date. Her perfume was still lingering on the sheets, though he couldn't smell it over the He felt the release of pressure when the gun was moved back and slightly away from his head. Rob had one last moment of relief and hope. Then his assailant pulled the trigger.