Hopefully not much, but....

On my morning "comfort visit" to the bathroom next to our room, Crow was the one monitoring me.

"It's been a week and you two have barely touched each other. She's not my type but she's pretty enough. You two have a spat or something?"

He paused. "Or are you worried about putting on a showfor us? Look, we're not creeps. The cameras track your body heat. We're not filming a porno or anything. Not that I care, but.... Yeah, we're not creeps like that." It was strange enough for him to speak, but also almost comical that it sounded like he was trying to defend his integrity.

I just nodded as I sat there relieving my bladder.

"And this thing later this morning, just remember that we're not doing it because we're creeps or anything. It was Rook's decision." The third captor at the safehouse went by "Rook." I had no idea what Crow was referring to, but it didn't sound like a happy development.

The kidnappers' demands felt like a cruel joke. They wanted us to strip down to our underclothes, as if we were actually married and this was some twisted honeymoon ritual they had in mind. The humiliation of it all made my face flush with embarrassment, but there was also an undeniable sense of arousal that I couldn't ignore.

The tension in the air was palpable as we stripped down. The room felt like it had shrunk, closing in on us with every passing second. I could feel my cheeks flush a deep shade of red as I reluctantly removed my clothes, trying my best not to make eye contact with Caroline or to think of the kidnappers watching us from their monitors. At least they were only heat cameras, if Crow was being truthful.

Caroline was standing beside me now, her demi bra and modest panties revealing more than she would have liked under normal circumstances. But in this twisted game we were being **** to play, it seemed like there were no boundaries left unbroken. There was no hiding the way the fabric of her bra cupped her breasts made them appear even fuller and rounder than before, or how her panties hugged her hips in a way that accentuated their curves. Both undergarments were perfectly modest when they were under her slacks and blouse, but were undeniably sexy in my current state of mind.

I found myself standing in front of Caroline, my boxers tenting as my arousal became glaringly obvious. It was both embarrassing and exhilarating at the same time: an uncomfortable mix of emotions that left me feeling **** yet strangely alive. I couldn't help but steal glances at her, trying not to let our kidnappers see just how much their demands were affecting us.

Caroline caught my gaze once or twice, her eyes lingering on the tent in my boxers before quickly looking away. There was a curious expression on her face - one that suggested she wasn't entirely disgusted by what she saw. Instead, there seemed to be a hint of interest there, as if she were trying to understand why this situation had such an impact on us both.

As the day wore on, we found ourselves navigating through increasingly awkward interactions with each other. We knew that our kidnappers expected us to act like a married couple, so we did our best to pretend - even though every fiber of our being screamed out against it. Acknowledging the fact that we were both looking at each other and that this was part of the script helped ease some of the tension between us. It gave us mutual permission to explore these new boundaries without feeling guilty or ashamed. We felt guilty and ashamed anyway, but it helped to pin the responsibility on our extenuating circumstances.

That night, when they finally allowed us to sleep again, we hid under the same sheet on a small bed. The bed's narrowness **** our bodies into intimate contact with each other, per usual, but now we were mostly unclothed. Every shift and movement was obvious as bare skin met, and our restlessness only served to intensify the situation by increasing the number of times we touched.

As I lay there, struggling to sleep amidst the chaos of my thoughts, I became acutely aware of Caroline's presence beside me. The warmth radiating from her body was comforting in its own twisted way, but it also served as a constant reminder of everything we were going through. When our bodies shifted and rubbed against each other, shivers ran down my spine and desire twisted my stomach. I knew that this whole situation brought us closer together than before, and that we could do little other than what we had done; but the increasing closeness was a felt reality rather than a "What would you do?" scenario in an ethics class. We were doing what we needed to do to survive, but the sensations and feelings were increasingly intense with no sign of diminishing. If anything, the intensity would only increase from here. It was a thought that both terrified and intrigued me at the same time, leaving me to wonder just how far we would be willing to go in order to survive this nightmare.

The next day, as we were left alone for a brief moment, Caroline and I exchanged knowing glances. We hadn't had a good chance to talk before now, and we had plenty to discuss.

I cleared my throat nervously, unsure of how to broach the subject at hand. "Caroline," I began hesitantly, "we need to be prepared for anything if we're going to survive this." My voice trembled slightly as I continued. "We agreed that we would do whatever it takes, even if it means breaking taboos or pushing boundaries beyond what either of us is comfortable with. And now that I think about it more...I don't know how far we might have to go in order to convince our captors."

Caroline nodded solemnly, her eyes reflecting the gravity of our situation. "You're right," she agreed softly. "We need to be ready for anything." She paused briefly before adding, "We both know how married couples act. If you were actually my husband, I'd have jumped your bones several times already." She grinned with an echo of our old banter, but it quickly faded in the seriousness of our predicament. "Our captors expect us to act like a normal couple, and that includes showing affection towards each other."

I swallowed hard, feeling the tension building between us as I considered what she's saying. "Alright," I said slowly, trying not to let my nerves show too much. "So...kissing? We've done hugging, but friends hug anyway. Kissing is a step beyond that."

"Yes," she confirmed, "though I would think we're way beyond something like that. They already had us strip down. Kissing is minor in comparison. But what if the next step is full nakedness?"

I resisted a shiver at the thought of Caroline being fully naked in from of me. "Yes, if it comes to it," I said slowly.

Caroline went farther. "Making out? I don't just mean kissing. I mean full-on, passionate kissing. Bodies pressed against each other and all that." Her voice seemed to catch. Was she imagining us kissing? She gave an answer to her question before I could determine an answer to mine. "Yes, that would make sense for a married couple to make out. We might have to do that."

There was a silence as we considered what more might be demanded of us. We both knew what more there might be, but it's different to say it out loud.

"When I'm making out with my wife," I observed, "There's usually groping. I know that groping goes both ways, but my experience is that something like that is more of an imposition the woman. I wouldn't do it if you weren't okay with it."

She processed it for a moment. "I suppose it can't be helped. If there has to be...groping...or petting...I think we just need to do it." Her face flushed, as mine did.

She hoarsely moved toward the topic we'd most been avoiding. "We might be able to fake sex instead of actually doing it. Simulated intercourse, bouncing springs. As long as our bodies are close and we have the sheet over us, they wouldn't be able to tell. You said that they only had IR cameras to keep track of where we are in the room. Yes. It might work to help the deception. We can fake it."

I felt as if my ears were going to burn off. "There would have to be, uh, intimate contact in order to appear realistic. I know it's not the same thing as sex, but it's still a lot. Is that okay?"

She responded more quickly and with less hesitation, as if she already made up her mind. "Yes. We have to do what we have to do. And...if it comes to real sex...full penetration...."

She let the implication linger in the air. It was difficult to maintain the appearance of calm as she addressed the elephant in the room.

"If it comes to it, then we must," I whisper.

"Then we should probably do our best acting job to pretend that it's passionate instead of ****," she said firmly.

I let out a shaky breath. If we were **** that far, I'm not sure that my passion would be pretended.

"Caroline," I said softly, choosing my words carefully so as not to alarm her further, "I need to be honest with you about something."

She looked at me curiously, tilting her head slightly to one side. Then she grinned involuntarily, obviously trying to deal with her own embarrassed discomfort. I could tell that she wasn't laughing at me. The whole situation was just so ridiculous.

She got herself back under control. "What is it?" she asked gently.

Taking a deep breath, I plunged ahead: "Lately...I've been feeling things towards you that I shouldn't feel--especially since our current situation requires absolute trust." My voice faltered as I continue, "I find myself looking at you...and thinking things...and feeling things...and...."

I trailed off, though I needed to continue. I didn't know how to tell her how inappropriate my thoughts had been lately. I felt like I had to be honest in case it changed her decision. We had always worked so hard through the years to make sure that our interactions were always appropriate, so her agreement might have been assuming that I was being entirely rational and principled and ethical. Right then I was feeling irrational and impulsive and sinful. I wasn't a noble knight who was dispassionately executing his duty no matter how hard it was. Instead, I felt like a raging lust monster whose motives couldn't be entirely trusted.

Caroline twisted her lips wryly in an expression I recognized. She did that whenever we were thinking along the same lines but noticed something that could invite teasing. "I understand what you're saying, and I want you to know that I feel the same way," she said with a tone whose lightness belied the seriousness of the confession. "At least, I'm sure it's something very similar."

She paused briefly before continuing. "It makes sense, you know? We've been through a lot together already. People who go through stuff like that, they get close. And we were already friends. It makes sense that our feelings would be intense. It's not something to be ashamed of." It sounded like something she had been telling herself.

"And we're almost naked and sleeping together. I mean...sleeping in the same bed. It makes sense that we'd feel...lust. Desire." I guessed that she was intellectualizing her feelings, like she tended to do, but that didn't mean that she wasn't making sense.

I felt both relieved and uneasy at her response. On one hand, it felt good to be understood and I was glad that she wasn't disgusted or rejecting me. On the other hand, I worried that I might be corrupting her.

"Are you sure that I'm not forcing myself on you? Is this all entirely consensual?" I asked nervously.

She snorted and rolled her eyes. "You and your ethics! Yes, it's consensual. We're making a conscious choice to do what we're doing."

Apparently I looked unconvinced. She laid out her thinking in the rational manner that I had come to respect from her in our engineering work together.

"We knew that they'd kill us if they knew we weren't married. We had to decide what to do in order to survive. We already determined that the window isn't something we could escape through. We could try to rush the door and try to escape that way, but then we'd have to face down guns and locks and three-against-two. Trying that still feels reckless and hopeless. Or we could pretend to be married and hope that it works until we're rescued. We chose that plan. We have alternatives, we just chose to reject them. So we're not **** into it. We think it's the best strategy. And since we choose it, it's consensual."

I wasn't certain that her argument was free from holes, but it was solid enough.

"And it's not hard to imagine that anyone choosing the plan we chose would have to face the kinds of feelings and temptations that we face. They might surprise us, but they're not surprising. Do you know what I mean?"

I nodded.

She continued, "But if we use our discomfort as a reason to toss the good plan and go with a dumb plan, that's just dumb. It's a good thing you have me around to keep you from doing anything dumb."

As always, her humor was able to disarm a bit of my tension. "Alright, alright. You've convinced me. We're doing what we need to do in order to survive. It's the best plan. We know it'll be hard. That doesn't make it a bad plan. And it doesn't make it wrong."

She faked a shocked expression. "Why, I think you just convinced me! What a brilliant argument!"

I chuckled and poked her in the ribs. She laughed and twisted away. I couldn't help but notice that poking her in the ribs when she was fully dressed was different than doing so in our current state of undress. When she moved quickly, her breasts wobbled in a way that I couldn't ignore and I was pretty sure that her nipples were pink.