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Description

I settle onto my sofa, excited to get comfortable and spend the afternoon watching television. Despite the wind and snow blowing outside my window, in my apartment I'm warm and cozy and wrapped up under a blanket. Feeling content, I press play on the remote and lean back to enjoy the show.

My relaxed state is interrupted by a soft 'thud', followed by a scratching sound. At first I think it's only the television, but when I press pause on the remote, the scratching continues. Then, I hear a soft 'click' and a creaking noise of a door swinging open - my door. My heart rate ratchets up, and I quickly slide off the sofa, my blanket falling noiselessly to the floor. Trying to remain silent, I dash down the hallway of my apartment to my bedroom, where I clamber into my closet, sliding the doors shut behind me and trying to steady my breathing. Faintly, from a different portion of my apartment, I hear a deep voice ask, "Did you hear something?"

My heart pounds in my ears and I hold my breath as a softer, higher voice replies, "There's someone here, look at the TV. Let's check the rooms." I slide deeper back into the closet, hiding behind the hanging sweaters and dresses as I listen to two sets of footsteps traipse through my apartment. The cupboards slam open, then shut, in the kitchen. The door to the bathroom is pushed loudly against the wall.

Without warning, the door to the closet opens swiftly and the wall of clothing is pushed aside to reveal me hiding in the back. I let out a cry of alarm as I'm met with the sight of a petite woman dressed in dark, inconspicuous boots, jeans, and a long-sleeve top, with a denim jacket and a beanie covering her long, curly black hair. "Found her!" she exclaims, staring hungrily at me with a knife in her hand.

There's a series of loud footfalls as the other burglar runs into my bedroom to join us. Dressed in similarly dark, bland clothing, the tall man cuts an intimidating figure and I shrink back as he steps towards me. They both laugh, and the man steps into the crowded closet. With one large hand he grabs both my wrists and pins them together, holding them behind my back, while his other arm wraps around my chest, holding me in a vice-like grip. "Now, you're not going to cause any trouble for us, are you?" he asks.

"This will all be easier if you just tell us where your money and valuables are," the woman says, stepping closer with the knife still held tight in her grasp. "'Course, if you need convincing we're happy to oblige." The man's arm tightens around my chest and he pulls it backwards while pushing my pinned wrists against the small of my back. The movement forces my stomach out while my chest and shoulders are pulled back, and causes my top to ride up, revealing my belly.

I take a quick, sharp breath in when the woman steps closer and slowly slides the tip of her knife into my exposed navel. Its sharp point presses down threateningly on the vulnerable bottom of my innie. I try to suck my stomach in, and the woman laughs. "Now, are you going to tell us what we want to know?" she asks softly, poking the knife deeper while my belly trembles with the effort of sucking it in. "Or does this need to get messy?"

As requested by for my photo requests.

Description

I settle onto my sofa, excited to get comfortable and spend the afternoon watching television. Despite the wind and snow blowing outside my window, in my apartment I'm warm and cozy and wrapped up under a blanket. Feeling content, I press play on the remote and lean back to enjoy the show.

My relaxed state is interrupted by a soft 'thud', followed by a scratching sound. At first I think it's only the television, but when I press pause on the remote, the scratching continues. Then, I hear a soft 'click' and a creaking noise of a door swinging open - my door. My heart rate ratchets up, and I quickly slide off the sofa, my blanket falling noiselessly to the floor. Trying to remain silent, I dash down the hallway of my apartment to my bedroom, where I clamber into my closet, sliding the doors shut behind me and trying to steady my breathing. Faintly, from a different portion of my apartment, I hear a deep voice ask, "Did you hear something?"

My heart pounds in my ears and I hold my breath as a softer, higher voice replies, "There's someone here, look at the TV. Let's check the rooms." I slide deeper back into the closet, hiding behind the hanging sweaters and dresses as I listen to two sets of footsteps traipse through my apartment. The cupboards slam open, then shut, in the kitchen. The door to the bathroom is pushed loudly against the wall.

Without warning, the door to the closet opens swiftly and the wall of clothing is pushed aside to reveal me hiding in the back. I let out a cry of alarm as I'm met with the sight of a petite woman dressed in dark, inconspicuous boots, jeans, and a long-sleeve top, with a denim jacket and a beanie covering her long, curly black hair. "Found her!" she exclaims, staring hungrily at me with a knife in her hand.

There's a series of loud footfalls as the other burglar runs into my bedroom to join us. Dressed in similarly dark, bland clothing, the tall man cuts an intimidating figure and I shrink back as he steps towards me. They both laugh, and the man steps into the crowded closet. With one large hand he grabs both my wrists and pins them together, holding them behind my back, while his other arm wraps around my chest, holding me in a vice-like grip. "Now, you're not going to cause any trouble for us, are you?" he asks.

"This will all be easier if you just tell us where your money and valuables are," the woman says, stepping closer with the knife still held tight in her grasp. "'Course, if you need convincing we're happy to oblige." The man's arm tightens around my chest and he pulls it backwards while pushing my pinned wrists against the small of my back. The movement forces my stomach out while my chest and shoulders are pulled back, and causes my top to ride up, revealing my belly.

I take a quick, sharp breath in when the woman steps closer and slowly slides the tip of her knife into my exposed navel. Its sharp point presses down threateningly on the vulnerable bottom of my innie. I try to suck my stomach in, and the woman laughs. "Now, are you going to tell us what we want to know?" she asks softly, poking the knife deeper while my belly trembles with the effort of sucking it in. "Or does this need to get messy?"

As requested by for my photo requests.