I still don’t know how many hours I spent inside that terrible aluminum storage shed, tied up like a pig…trying to deal with the insane heat pounding down through the metal roof…drowning in a pool of my own sweat. What had I done wrong? What had I done to deserve this inhuman torture?

That was the worst part of it. I hadn’t done anything wrong.

All I did was help my wife Monica and her lover Randy get ready for a party they were going to. Then, when they were almost ready to leave, Randy began slapping me around like a rag doll, for no reason whatsoever. I had been perfectly respectful to him and my wife all day. I couldn’t understand it.

But, then again, Randy doesn’t need a reason to abuse me – I know that all too well. He often would beat me for any little thing, and I couldn’t say a word about it. What could I say? He was Monica’s boyfriend! He could do no wrong in her eyes.

After Randy kicked me around for a few minutes, he ordered me to bring him the gym bag full of bondage equipment that we keep in the basement. After I retrieved the bag, he began tying me up tightly. He showed me no mercy, tying the knots as tightly as he could. It only took a few seconds for my bound limbs to become totally numb.

Where was my wife during all this? She was in the bathroom, putting the final touches on her makeup, getting ready for the party. She couldn’t care less that I was being beaten to a pulp in the next room – that’s what hurt the most. To her, I was a nuisance at best, a piece of shit whose only purpose was wait on her and Randy hand and foot. I knew I would get no sympathy from her.

After Randy had me trussed up to his satisfaction, he grabbed me by the ear and twisted, causing me to yelp involuntarily. Randy dragged me by my ear into the back yard. It was impossible to keep up with him in my bound state, and I fell flat on my face three times along the way. Each time I fell, Randy would grab a handful of hair and yank me to my feet, then twist my ear again to keep me moving. Finally, we reached the metal storage shed.

Randy unlocked the door and kicked me hard in the ass, sending me reeling into the small structure. I hit my head hard against the lawn mower. As I tried to regain my wits, I was suddenly plunged into darkness as Randy slammed the door shut. The sound of the lock being clasped sealed my fate.

“We’ll be back later on tonight, faggot,” Randy taunted. “Try to think positive thoughts while we’re away, okay?” I listened to the sound of his retreating footsteps as I lay there in the darkness, unable to move, my hands and feet already throbbing from the tight ropes.

I can’t describe the ungodly day I spent inside that horrible shed. I boiled all day under the hot July sun. The metal roof of the shed acted as a conductor for the already-unbearable heat. The rope burns on my wrists and ankles lasted more than a month.

It was the worst day I’ve ever spent in my life.

After a few hours, I became delirious.