by Paul Blades
Robin responded with a soft and quiet “No.”
“Oh, that’s too bad, Robin, because I really like to suck on soft little tits like yours. Maybe if I give you a little encouragement you’ll feel more like it.” Draco ran his hand between her thighs, first pulling gently on the thin, wiry hairs which covered the girl’s sex and then probing deeper. Robin gave out a little squeak as Draco pushed his fingers past the entrance. He then turned to Amy, still sobbing quietly, kneeling before him, displaying her tantalizing charms.
“Ok now, Amy, do you think Dougie will be back soon?”
“I-,I don’t know.”
“Well what do you know, Amy?”
“I don’t know where he went. He goes out a lot.”
“Business, I suppose, huh Amy?”
“Y-yes, I think so.” Amy stared down at the floor, not bearing to see her little sister’s abuse.
“Well Dougie owes us a lot of money, Amy, and we’re a little pissed at him as you can tell. Is there any money here in the house?”
“Yes.”
“Where?”
“In the bedroom upstairs. There’s a small safe.” Amy was thinking, “Maybe if I give them the money, maybe we’ll be ok. Maybe they won’t hurt us. Maybe, oh maybe they’ll let us go.” This glimmer of hope had given her a bit more confidence. Well, maybe she was wrong.
Remo stood watching Amy’s ass, which he surely desired a piece of. Genda, meanwhile was more interested in the brunette the blonde had been gemauching downstairs. He had spread her knees as she hung upside down and was eyeing her snatch with undisguised lust. He glanced back at Draco who gave a slight shrug as if to say, “Ok, dive in.” Genda needed no further encouragement as he buried his face between the brunette’s legs. She began to mew again. The blonde looked on silently. She was biding her time. She would be ready to take her chance to get out of this if she got it. She had some real fun waiting for her.
Draco continued with Amy, his hand now nestled well into Robin’s quim. Her eyes were closed, her face in a grimace. “OK Amy, why don’t you show Harry and Remo here where the safe is and get the money, Ok?”
Amy nodded yes and then glancing back and forth at Remo and me, slowly got to her feet. She kept her hands behind her head.
“Remo, I think we need a little leash on Amy here, we don’t want her to feel insecure, now do we?” I asked.
He grunted and pulled a thong from his pocket. He tightened it quickly around Amy’s neck. He tugged on it slightly and she moved to go upstairs. I followed.
Remo was in heaven as the girl’s ass jiggled softly as she mounted the stairs. He let her have enough lead to get her ass almost at eye level. I couldn’t see his face, but I was sure he was licking his chops. Sooner or later, Amy would have to spread her fine white cheeks for him and get her fill of mau mau cock. Maybe sooner rather than later. I thought not sooner since we surely couldn’t hang around here all day. But once we got back to the house, well, who knows then.
Amy led us into a large well appointed bedroom, obviously the master suite. Just a short while ago she was lying here maybe dreaming of her fine man and aching for his return. Maybe she was dreaming of making long and passionate love amid the pile of dough he would bring back with him. She might have contemplated giving him a long, tender blowjob as a reward for a job well done. But maybe not. I was fun to think about it though.
We followed Amy to a picture on the wall, a small oil painting of a Dutch country scene. Children were romping around a maypole, cows and chickens galore, big cottony clouds overhead. A young woman and a man were standing in a doorway to a little cottage, embracing. Home sweet home. I don’t know much about art, but it looked like an original. Probably cost a pretty penny. I bet that Amy picked it out, her ultimate plans for her and Dougie reflected in the homely scene. I wonder what Dougie thought.
The picture was hinged to the wall and Amy pulled it open. A small combination safe was there. With a quick look over her shoulder, Amy turned back and, with a few deft turns, the safe opened. Remo pulled her away. I looked in and, sitting atop a small pile of cash was a small pistol, a Beretta. Tsk, tsk, tsk. Was Amy trying a fast one?
Remo lashed out and slapped Amy across the face. The force of the blow drove her back and she fell onto the bed. Remo was on top of her in an instant, pulling her up by her hair and then tossing her face down on the bed. He clamped her arms together and held her wrists with one of his meaty oversized hands.
“De little girl is bad, Harry. She wants to shoot us. What we done, eh?” Remo wasn’t mad, he was just enjoying his opportunity to manhandle Amy.
“Get the stuff out Harry, let’s see what we got.”
I looked back into the safe and placed the Berretta in my jacket pocket. I then pulled out the cash. Maybe twenty thousand. A few jewels were at the back, a necklace, some rings and a bracelet. I gathered them and turned to get a pillowcase from the bed. Remo had taken the opportunity to introduce himself to Amy’s ass. He had spread her legs and was stroking her bush while jamming his thumb up her behind. Amy was crying and moaning, her voice muffled by the bedclothes. Well, you had to give her credit for trying.
“Ok Amy, where’s the rest?” I said as I dropped the swag into a pillow case.
“In the closet, in the closet,” she called out, “please get him off me, please.”
“Now Amy, I don’t control what Remo does, but if we can get the rest of the dough and get back downstairs, I’m sure Mr. Draco will calm Remo down. So where in the closet?”
“In the ceiling, there’s a loose tile. Push it back and there’s a strongbox. That’s all that’s here, I swear.”
“Ok, but if you’re lying, I’ll ask Remo here to finish the job he’s starting.”
“No, I swear, I swear!”
I walked over to the large walk-in closet and flipped on the light. It had gotten a lot lighter since the forty minutes or so we had been here but I still needed the light to see my way. I pushed up on the ceiling tiles and found one to be looser than the others. Pushing it up, I stepped on my toes to reach above the doorframe. Sure enough, there was a strongbox there. I pulled it over to the opening where the tile had been and brought it down. It wasn’t locked. I mean what was the sense in locking something that could be carried away? I brought the strongbox over to the bed.
Amy was squirming and whining in pain as Remo now had the better part of three fingers up her ass. She would learn to take more down the road.
I opened the box and low and behold, three or four neat stacks of cash. All 100’s, all neatly bound into thousand dollar bundles. I counted thirty five.
“Is this it, Amy?”
“Yes, yes, please!”
“It’s not going to make Draco very happy. Dougie owes a lot more than this, and with interest and collection expenses added, well, this is just a drop in the bucket. Are you sure there’s no more?”
“Yes, I’m sure. I don’t know where he keeps the rest of the money. It’s not in the house, it’s somewhere else. He hides it. Please, please, make him stop!”
“Remo, I think we’d better get downstairs and give Mr. Draco the bad news, don’t you?”
“What you say, Harry, I’ll save my fun for later. OK chickie?” He gave Amy a little push in her back. “I said ‘OK chickie’?” he repeated, pushing her a little harder.
“OK, OK, please let me up, please!”
Remo stood up and pulled Amy to her feet by the tether around her neck. Her hands went to her throat as she gagged.
“Hands behind head, dearie, like we showed you.” Amy complied and the pressure on her throat diminished. “Let’s go.” He gave her a little push to the door.
Downstairs, the scene had changed slightly from when we left. Robin was on the floor, her hands tied behind her, hogtied to her ankles. The brunette was beside her in a similar tie. The blonde was still hanging upside down, but the stick in her mouth had been replaced by duct tape across her lips. Genda was placing a small black bag over her he
“This is all we could get,” I told Draco as we entered the room, Amy preceding us. I showed him the fifty five thousand and the jewelry. Draco frowned at Amy.
“Well Amy, I’m afraid we’re going to collect you and your friends here as collateral. When Dougie gets home, he’ll see our little calling card and know what to do. Maybe we can still work things out, but he’ll have to hurry. Now I have a little tape recorder here and you’re going to leave him a little message. You will tell him that some friends came by and that you all decided to go on a little trip with us. He can contact us in the usual way and we’ll have a little chat. OK?”
Amy began to cry again. “Oh please mister, we don’t have anything. I’ll do whatever you want, just don’t kidnap us. You can fuck me if you want, I’ll do whatever you want, just please don’t take us away.”
“Now, Amy, do you think that we came all this was for a little fuck?” Draco’s voice was hard edged now, menacing. “You need to do what you’re told, understand? We could hurt you terribly if we wanted to, maybe hurt little Robin here. Do you want that? Let’s just get with the program now, OK?” His voice returned to its normal tone. Pleasing, but firm. Real Firm.
Amy nodded affirmatively, the fear clear in her eyes. She knelt down at Remo’s urging. Draco held the recorder to her mouth and turned it on. Amy’s voice was tiny, pleading, quivering.
“Doug,” she hesitated, looking up at Draco. He urged her on. “Some people came here, they took us somewhere. They want you to call them. Please Doug, please….” She was about to say more when Draco shut off the recorder. He popped out the tape and placed it on the end table. He nodded to Remo.
Remo quickly flew up the steps and out the front door. Draco turned to Amy and motioned for her to lie on the floor. Sobbing, she complied and lay down next to her sister. Robin and the unnamed brunette were whimpering. Their lips too had been taped but they could hear pretty good I was sure. Draco took another length of leather and fastened Amy’s arms behind her. He then tied her ankles together leaving a short lead as I had previously done with the brunette. He motioned to me and I released the other girls from their hog ties and fastened their ankles likewise.
Genda approached the blonde who had given him so much trouble. He pulled the black bag from her head. She looked up at him with hatred. Not an ounce of fear in this broad. Genda leaned over and looked her in the face. “Ready to travel, bitch?” he said. He then gave her a short sharp punch in her solar plexus. The woman’s eyes clamped shut and she gasped for breath. Genda quickly released her ankles from the beam and dropped her down on the floor. Her body landed with a loud thump. He fastened her ankles closely, no walking for her. He put the bag back on.
I could hear the van pull up to the garage below us and Draco motioned me to get the girls up from the floor. First Robin, then Amy. Genda stood the brunette to her feet. More black bags completed the preparation and we led the girls one by one down the basement stairs to the garage. When we were finished, Amy, Robin and the brunette were carefully stashed in the van, lashed feet and head to rings in the van floor. As I went to go back upstairs to help Genda with the blonde, I could hear a thumping down the steps. Genda was dragging the blonde down the stairs, her feet in his arms, her head striking each step as she descended. Genda smiled at me. “This bitch bit me.” That was all he said. He pulled her into the van, secured her to the floor and then got into the front seat with Remo. Draco and I spread a tarp over the naked foursome, clipping its corners down so that only a series of rough bulges showed underneath. Not much of a cover, perhaps, but just enough to let Remo or Genda to put a slug or two into any nosey cops.
The van pulled away. Draco and I followed on foot walking down the driveway to the Lincoln. Draco paused to light a cigar. It was about 6:30. Our whole escapade had taken about one and a half hours. We were fifty five thousand and four broads to the better, or at least Klitzman was. He would get the rest of the dough and Dougie too, I was sure of that.
CHAPTER EIGHT
MARA IS TAUGHT A THING OR TWO
When I awoke I was alone. No longer confined in my coffin, I was unbound, still naked and lying on a cot. As my eyes became focused I looked about to gain my bearings. The room was small, the walls and ceiling white, the floor, carpeted in a light blue. My head hurt like a demon had passed through it. Groggily I sat up, pushing my feet off of the cot and onto the floor. I was amazed at my relative freedom. Even the crude collar which Nicky had placed around my neck was gone. I couldn't believe I could actually open my eyes at will, touch my body, open my mouth. My jaw ached from the days of confinement, my legs and arms stiff. Someone had obviously washed me while I was out, my body smelled clean and my hair, for the first time since my imprisonment, soft and fresh.
I saw a pitcher of water on a table next to me with a small glass next to it. I wondered briefly if it was drugged, but drank anyway. If they wanted me drugged, they didn't need any tricks. I had no power to stop them if that was what they wanted.
I lay back down and must have slept some more. I awoke when the door opened and a thin, dark skinned man, about thirty, entered pushing a small hospital cart before him. He looked at me nonchalantly as he pushed the cart over to where I sat. I was, of course, still naked, and they had not provided any coverings to the bed. I crossed my legs reflexively and crossed my arms in front of my breasts. For a short while I had felt almost comfortable about being in this room, safe again, maybe brought back to sanity, to a world where I was a person. But here I was again, naked, about to be the subject of some act or acts by this strange man. I huddled away from him into the corner of the bed.
"This is a medical exam,” the man said calmly. “You have nothing to worry from me as long as you cooperate." His voice was inflected with a Caribbean lilt. His hair black, a small goatee surrounding his mouth. "If you fail to cooperate I will call in the guard and you will be forced to cooperate and then be punished. Do you understand?" I nodded yes.
The man proceeded to examine me, looking into my eyes, my ears, feeling my pulse, taking my blood pressure, everything my regular doctor would have done. I followed his directions meekly, without questions. He had spoken of a punishment. I dreaded the thought of what my captors could do to me. Whoever they were, whatever they wanted from me they were certainly people to be feared.
The orderly proceeded to measure my body, my wrists and neck, my ankles. He felt my breasts, for lumps I supposed, but also measured them for circumference, size, the distance from my nipples to my neck. He also measured my legs, their length and width, the size of my vagina, the distance between there and my anus. He probed them both with a gloved hand, causing me to gasp and squirm. He drew blood, took my saliva and vaginal secretions and a urine sample. He even took a small scale from the cart and weighed me. All the time he was silent except for his commands to turn, lift a leg, present my breasts to him. Finally, when he was done he took several pictures of me, side views and front, my breasts and between my legs, my body framed by the whiteness of the walls. When he was done he offered me a slight smile and, using a key on a chain from his belt, opened the door and left.
About a half hour later some food arrived. A bowl of fruit, a small chicken filet, more water. It was delivered by another man, still dark, a golden earring through his right ear. He dropped the tray on the table next to the cot. His smile didn't seem half as friendly as the medical technician's. "Eat" was all he said and left.
I wasn't very hungry. I remembered the words spoken to me by Nicky in the car, by Draco. I was to be trained, opened they said. Enslaved. Was this what it felt to be enslaved, to be an object? What was next? What awaited me? I was soon to learn.
I had finished the fruit and chicken when the door burst open again. It was the man who had delivered the food. He stepped forward to claim the food tray and, glancing over his shoulder, nodded to someone behind him. As he stepped from the room a large black man, tall, broad shoulders, wearing a bright red t-shirt and loose, tan, canvas pants stepped into the room. He had two words for me: “Get up."
Cringing, I stepped up from the cot. He grabbed my arm and pulled me away to the center of the room. The room seemed even smaller with this giant looming over me. His hand around my wrist was like a vise, his fingers easily circling it. He carried a small black bag which he placed on the floor in front of him. Reaching in, he pulled out several leather and steel objects. Looking at them, I knew they were for me. My body chilled with fear. Was this the moment I had been dreading? Could I negotiate, tell them I'd changed my mind, that I wanted to leave, that the game was over? Looking at this hulk before me I was sure I could not.
"P-please, don't hurt me," was all I could squeak out, my throat was constricted, my knees weak with fear.
"Turn around," was all he replied.
I did what I was told, circling to my left, not wanting to let him leave my sight, fearing the untelegraphed blow, the unforwarned act. He roughly pulled my hair up off of my shoulders and I felt something snap shut around my neck. I reached up with my hands to feel a collar around my neck, thick, made of leather, with rings. I felt a belt wrapped around my waist, snugly clasped behind me, clicking closed. He then grabbed my right hand and spun me around, locking a bracelet to my right and then my left wrist. There could be no confusion about what these were for: my training, my enslavement.
I was pushed towards the cot, my wrists having been clipped to rings on the belt, slightly behind my back. I fell back and felt my legs being lifted, separated. I closed my eyes, fearing the worst, only to feel my ankles being encircled with the same leather bonds as were around my wrists. The man pulled me back to my feet. Holding my head still by the hair with one hand, he bent over and reached back into the bag on the floor. As he did, he caused my body to bend over with him, my head pulled down. I squealed in pain. As he straightened up he looked at me with a seeming perplexed look. He looked at his other hand and remembering his next task pulled my head back and plunged a gag into my mouth. This was no ball gag, but a long thick plug shaped like a cock mounted on a leather base which covered my mouth and chin. He pulled it painfully tight.
-->
