When Richard woke up, his first though was what time it was. He remembered it was a weekend, and happily stretched his arms. Or, he tried, but was stopped by something on his wrist. He looked, up, and saw that he had been tied to the brass bed-frame with several strands of rope- thin rope, but enough of it that he couldn’t break it.
The next thing he noticed was a gag resting in his mouth- it felt like a sock- held in place by what seemed to be more rope. He mmmphed, but couldn’t speak. His legs were also held in place by ropes, similar to his hands. Surveying the situation, Richard realized he was tied spread-eagle to a bed, in a strange room- a hotel suite, maybe- in only his boxers.
Thinking back to the night before, Richard tried to remember how he’d gotten there. He remembered getting out of work before memorial day, and going to a bar after dinner. The memories got fuzzy then- probably a few too many drinks, he thought ruefully. He’s been there late, he knew. And somehow he’d ended up here, on a mysterious bed in an unknown room, with no idea of who put him there.
For fifteen minutes, Richard struggled, but then realized it was useless. He gave up, and laid on the bed pathetically.
TBC (actually tbc, unlike many other threads
