A young man faces some difficult decisions and has to deal with the
consequences. What would you have done?
9 Paradise lane
By
Deputy Duffy
I made my way over to the Andersons' and pulled into the driveway.
"Ah, Paradise," I said, looking over the large estate.
I was there to do a little house-sitting and some dog-watching. My dad and Mr.
Anderson were golfing buddies, and that's how I first got this $50.00 a night
gig about three years ago. I know it doesn't sound it, but it's a cool job. I
mean, I am a nineteen-year-old guy, and it's a Friday party night, but the
Andersons had a sweet pad. They had lots of toys, a heated swimming pool, and a
booming sound system. They also had this fully loaded bar that I was looking
forward to exploring once again.
The best parts: It was easy money, I got to spend the night away from home, and
I didn't have to worry about drinking and driving.
The worst: I had to party alone because my parents were only a mile away, and I
knew they drove by to make sure I wasn't throwing a bash.
"Ah, fuck!" I cried out, forgetting that I wasn't supposed to park in the
driveway. "It had to be one of HER rules," I said to myself, backing into the
street. I never understood it, but I figured the lady of the house, Mrs.
Anderson, didn't like my beat up 72 Nova (it's a shit box) parked in her
precious driveway.
I grabbed my bag and headed for the front door and there she was, standing in
the doorway. Mrs. Anderson (I thought of her as the Ice Queen) greeted me, not
with a friendly wave, but a beckon. I entered the house and was a little taken
back as I looked her over. She was dressed in a red top (with a lot of
cleavage!), black leather mini skirt,sheer white stockings, and black high
heels.
(She was a fancy businesswoman in her forties so she usually sported formal
attire.)
My eyes must have been bugging out of my head. I didn't even know that this
woman had tits. When I finally lookedup, I saw her frosted blonde hair was
teased, and her makeup was a lot heaver then normal. She was primped.
I was getting a little nervous, as something just didn't seem right. Usually
when I get there, she coldly gives me a few instructions (no guests, don't touch
anything, no snooping) and a lecture about caring for her stupid dog, which was
nothing more than an oversized rat, and then she splits, without even saying
goodbye.
She led me to the couch and sat next to me, but she couldn't seem to look me in
the eye. I asked about her husband. I knew he was a pilot, but that was about
it. She confirmed that he was overseas, and she said everything was fine there.
But I still knew something wasn't right and that she probably wasn't wearing
this getup for me. She was like 25 years older then me and always treated me
like a paid servant.
"Although, anything is possible," I thought, moving a little closer to her on
the couch.
"You see, Steven, I got myself in a bind," she said, finally looking up at me.
(Wow, she knew my first name.)
I shrugged my shoulders (trying to remember hers).
"At work," she continued. "Yeah, it's never happened to me before, and, I don't
know, I just had to do something."
She got off the couch and started pacing in front of me. I was clueless. I knew
she worked in real estate or land development, or something like that, and she
seemed to make good money, at least she acted that way. She was blabbering, but
her short skirt and the high heels didn't help my concentration any.
She stopped in front of me. "I really can't tell you details, but I'm in trouble
with a bad man, who wants to do bad things."
"Bad things?" I mumbled, lifting my eyes to hers.
She smacked her lips. "Yeah.... Just look at how I'm dressed."
(I had been.) "Oh," I said, like I got it, but I still didn't.
She looked at me with exasperation. "Sex, you dummy. He wants sex, tonight."
"With you...? Oh." (Well, that explained her get-up, but I was confused as to
why she was telling me.) "But you're married...."
"I know that! God, this has been the worst week of my life," she said, with a
stomp of the foot (not too smart with high heels on), and she almost fell down.
I had to contain my chuckle. She slid back down onto the couch and grabbed my
hand and batted her green raccoon eyes. "Please, I need your help."
"Me?" I gulped.
"I need someone to help me."
"Help?"
"Yeah, watch my back. Make sure he doesn't hurt me."
"Hurt me? Ah, you?"
"Yeah. Like I said, he's a bad guy and I don't trust him. I mean, I agreed, but
now I've changed my mind. I'm going to try reasoning with him. If he tries any
kinky stuff I need you to put a stop to it."
"But how?" I asked, not liking the plan so far.
It only got worse when she opened a drawer on the table next to us. My eyes flew
open. It looked like a gun. My hand shook as I pulled it out. It was indeed a
gun, a small black handgun. I'd shot a shotgun before, but never even held a
handgun. It seemed way more electrifying.
Mrs. Anderson's cell phone going off just then startled me, and I'm surprised I
didn't shoot myself. She answered and gabbed on the phone while I just stared at
the gun in my hands. I didn't know what kind it was, but I'm sure it was lethal.
Mrs. Anderson snapped her phone shut and let out a scream. "He's here!"
I snapped around, and through the window I saw a large black car parked in the
driveway. Mrs. Anderson rushed over in a panic. "Don't let him hurt me!" She
grabbed me and pushed me down the hall and into the master bedroom, screaming at
me to hide.
Her last words: "Only come out IF I need your help."
She pushed me into a closet and quickly shut the bifold doors. My head was
spinning. I'd never been so nervous in my life. The closet was dark and full of
clothes, so the only place to stand was right were I was. If someone opened the
doors, I was busted. I noticed that the doors were improperly hung (my Dad,
who's a master carpenter, always said that bifold doors were a sign of new money
and bad taste), so there was a little space between them. I could see the large
bed, illuminated by the hall light.
Nervous minutes passed. I thought about how it was the first time I'd been in
the master bedroom (I slept in the guest room) because usually it's locked, and
here I was hiding in the closet with a gun in my hand, praying that I didn't
have to use it, and wondering if I'd have the courage to use it if I had to. But
mostly, I wondered how I got into this spot and how I could get out of it.
I lost track of time. I could hear some raised voices from time to time. I was
praying that Mrs. Anderson was as savvy as she professed and could talk or argue
her way out of it.
No such luck.
The light flipped on, and Mrs. Anderson came into the bedroom, followed by a
short man in a black pinstriped suit.
"He's the bad guy?" I thought, expecting someone bigger.
He cleared his throat. "Get on the bed."
Mrs. Anderson moved over and started folding down the covers.
"No! Stand up, you stupid twit," he said, throwing the covers onto the floor.
She crawled to the center of the bed and then awkwardly stood up. It was a
balancing act with the high heels on.
"Can I take these heels off?" she whined, using her hands on the ceiling to
balance herself.
"Quiet!" he snapped. "I'm in charge here."
I heard another voice add, "Yeah, we picked them out just for yah."
I cringed. There were two of them...maybe more. I closed my eyes and said
another quick prayer, hoping all those early Sunday mornings would pay off.
"Strip."
My eyes flew open hearing this command.
Mrs. Anderson shook her head. "Not like this."
The little guy raised his voice. "Take off your clothes, you stupid bitch or
I'll tear them off, and maybe rip off a nipple or two. Like I said earlier, I'll
fuck you conscious or unconscious, either way, your choice." (Yikes. I saw why
she called him a bad guy.)
She looked down and tugged at her shirt. Then she looked up and right past the
little guy pacing back and forth to my hiding spot. "Not like this, please."
My heart skipped a beat and I tightened the grip on the gun. ("What's she
doing?")
Another man came into view and moved over to the edge of the bed. This was no
little guy. He was wearing blackpants and a blue flannel shirt with the sleeves
cut off. He had to be the muscle. He certainly had the biceps for the job. He
slowly raised his tattooed arm and snapped his fingers. Mrs. Anderson quivered
and lifted her top over her head and dropped it onto the bed. She moved her
arms, trying to hide her breasts (in a lacy black bra).
"I think I told you to strip." The short guy stopped right in front of me, but I
could easily look over his head. She shook her head. The big guy raised his arm
and grabbed her by the arm. He twisted it, and she dropped to her knees.
"Please, he's hurting me." She looked right up in my direction again. I gripped
the gun with both hands. It looked like she was trying to give me away. "I
said...he's hurting me."
"Let's just fuck this bitch and get out of here," the big guys snarled, twisting
even more.
She was pleading at me with her eyes. I wanted to burst through the doors, but
was frozen in fear.
"Easy, Chuck," the little guy said, moving over to the bed. He had to pry
Chuck's hands off her arm. "In due time, but I want her to remember this night
for the rest of her days."
Chuck moved back and spat on the floor. "Oh, she'll remember."
(I already figured she wasn't the only one.)
Chuck snatched a chair and flipped it around. He crashed down onto it and kicked
his work boots up onto the bed. "It's your show, boss."
Boss Man helped her up to her feet on the bed and stepped back. Mrs. Anderson
huffed. She looked more upset then scared. I slowly dropped my arms and tried
relax.
Mrs. Anderson whined. "I said I'd do it with you, not some construction guy, and
I played your stupid dress up games all week."
"Fuck this whore!" Chuck shouted.
"Chuck, relax," Boss Man said, pressing on Chuck's shoulder. He turned towards
Mrs. Anderson.
"Now Rebecca, he wouldn't even be in here if you hadn't tried to renege on a
deal. And don't try and tell me any of your BS stories. I warned you not to fuck
with me on this. Now, I suggest you get to stripping before I let Chuck off his
leash."
(Rebecca? So that's her first name.)
After some mumbling, she pulled a zipper on her skirt and wiggled it down. She
kicked it free, almost falling in the process. Her panties were black and
matched the bra.
"These shoes are ridiculous," she cried, as the men looked her over, standing
only in her bra, panties, thigh high white stockings, and those high heels.
"Who cares about the shoes," Chuck barked. "Let's see those tits."
Rebecca smacked her lips. She was already unhooking her bra when he said that,
and she ripped it off and flung it at him. She covered her breasts with her
hands, like a model. Boss Man snapped his fingers. She huffed, but dropped her
hands to her side and stuck out her chest with false bravado. Her breasts could
best be described as low riders, but they were surprisingly full and, with her
big brown nipples, quite pleasing to the eyes. Looking her over, just like the
other men, I had to give her credit for keeping in shape over the years. Though
not perfect, she had a nice body. (It had to help that she never had children.)
"Not now," I thought, feeling my dick flutter. I knew this wasn't the time to
get "excited."
"Did we shave?" Boss Man asked, pointedly.
Rebecca rolled her eyes and nodded. "I know, prove it." She skinned her panties
down, her breasts swinging nicely. She had trouble kicking off the panties, so
Boss Man helped her free them from her feet.
"I thought you said you shaved?" Chuck said, with a chuckle. (She sported a thin
landing strip.)
"I'm not shaving it bald, asshole," Rebecca said, moving her hands in front of
her crotch. Chuck lunged forward and grabbed Rebecca by the ankles and pulled
her down. She bounced a few times on the bed, cursing. Chuck tried to spread her
legs, but she kicked him away, her high heels finally working to her advantage.
"Chuck, brute force isn't always necessary," his boss said, moving to the side
of the bed. He tapped on the bed. "Come here, my little pet."
Rebecca took a few deep breaths and scooted to the edge of the bed. Boss man
patted her on the head. "See. Now lay back and spread your legs so I can see
your pretty little pussy."
"Yeah, well, fuck this whore. She ain't that great. I have better at home."
Chuck, obviously frustrated, turned away and acted like he was uninterested, as
Rebecca followed her orders.
"That's true Chuck, but this is still some good pussy." Boss Man traced his hand
down her leg and then dipped a finger into her pussy. He scooped it out and
brought it up to his mouth. Rebecca gasped as he did it again. "Yes, still got
some tang to it."
Chuck was making me nervous because he was moving around the room, in and out of
my sight, while his boss continued to play with Rebecca's pussy. I tried not to
watch.
I tried, but I just couldn't help it. I looked up and Rebecca had her head to
the side looking right at me, biting her lip, as Boss Man was really fingering
her pussy hard. It seemed like he was trying to get his whole fist in there.
Chuck stopped his wandering and began cheering him on. Rebecca put her hands
over her face and started thrashing about. I thought she was in pain at first,
but then it was clear she wasn't.
"That's it boss...make her come...make her come," Chuck cheered. I realized for
the first time that Chuck had something in his hands. I focused on it. It was
some sort of camera, and he was snapping shots of his boss's work. Rebecca let
out a high pitched squeal seeing the camera (and maybe cumming her brains out)
and then settled down as Boss Man slowed a halt. Both of the men had a hearty
laugh, while Rebecca curled up into a fetal position.
"Hey, boss, what do say we get some oral relief?" Chuck tapped the front of his
pants and then brought his hand up and made that silly blow job motion, when you
also stick your tongue against your cheek.
"I never said anything about sucking...you know," Rebecca said with a sniffle.
She got to her knees. "And give me that camera."
Chuck held the camera high. "Blow me and maybe...."
"What? Oral sex, isn't part of sex?" Boss Man added, taking off his suit jacket.
"What are you, my wife?"
"I swear I'll bite it off." She reached down and pulled a shoe off and fired it
at Chuck, who was snapping pictures.
They moved closer and Rebecca tossed the other shoe. It, like the first, just
bounced off the big guy.
"I'll ask you once, are you going to suck some dick or what?" Boss Man said,
slipping off his shoes. Rebecca shook her head. She also snapped her jaw, like a
snapping turtle.
Chuck took off his shirt and tossed it at Rebecca. "Fucking bitch has got a lot
of fucking teeth."
Boss Man loosened his tie. "Yeah, Chuck, now might be the time for brute force."
"Yeh," Chuck cheered. Both of them slid their belts out of their pants, like it
had been pre-planned.
Rebecca began shuffling backward. "That's it, deal's off, get out now!"
Chuck pounced. After some groping, she was flipped over onto her stomach. She
screamed out, "Help!" Chuck covered her mouth until his boss shoved her panties
in her mouth and wrapped his tie around her mouth and head.Chuck held her in
place as his boss smacked her ass with his belt five or six times. Rebecca (and
I) shook with everyone of them.
The belts were used next to secure her wrists to the headboard. Chuck grabbed
her by the hair and pulled back, ordering her up to her knees. She didn't move
until his boss picked up one of her shoes and pressed it against her ass.
"On you knees, whore, like a dog, or I'll shove this heel...."
Rebecca flinched and quickly snapped her knees up. Boss Man pulled them apart.
"I said like a dog. It didn't have to be this way, bitch. You cost me and my
guys a lot of time and money, and you promised to compensate us. Well, consider
your ass compensation."
"Chuck, get the lubrication," Boss Man said, pointing to his jacket. "It's in
the inner pocket."
Chuck went over to the jacket and came back holding a white tube. "I say we fuck
her dry, boss."
"Give me that," his boss said, snatching the tube. "It's for us as much as her.
Now, hold her feet."
Chuck moved into place and blocked my view. I didn't mind. Things had gotten out
of hand. I wasn't sure I wanted to watch this anymore. While I found some of it
exciting, now I was actually feeling for her. I wanted to rush in and put a stop
to this, but feeling a tear roll down my cheek, I knew I didn't have it in me. I
blinked my eyes to try to dry them. I felt like a baby, and I also didn't need
them to hear me sniffling.
I heard Boss Man slap her ass. "Ok, let's see if she took that enema."
"Enema?" I blinked my eyes. I couldn't really see that good with the big goon
holding her ankles, but it looked like the boss was using his finger on her
asshole. He was kneeling by her side, and his arm was moving back and forth.
Rebecca was moaning into her gag. I focused, and it sure looked like he was
fingering her asshole pretty good.
"Boy, she feels tight, like she hadn't been using those anal sex toys we gave
her with the enema bag. Maybe she thought we were joking." He held a finger in
the air. "Well, she looks clean, so we'll let it slide."
He used her nice hair to clean his finger. I bit my lip. (This guy was such an
asshole, he probably deserved to be shot.)
He pointed to the camera, and Chuck retrieved it. He took some pictures as his
boss climbed behind Rebecca. He slid his pants down, and it looked like he used
some of the lubrication on himself. I was glad he had his back to me. I closed
my eyes when I heard Rebecca scream into her gag. I just stood there in the
closet shaking my head. I didn't know much about anal sex, but Rebecca didn't
seem to be enjoying it. She kept crashing down on the bed, so Chuck stuffed a
big pillow under her stomach.
I looked up when Boss Man climbed up the bed, a couple minutes later. He pulled
on Rebecca's head and jerked his cock. Chuck moved closer and took some shots as
his boss blew his load all over the side of her face. He cleaned his cock off
with her hair, and I felt sick. I felt even sicker when Chuck dropped his pants
and stepped out of them. He was going commando and ready to go, and let's just
say his biceps weren't the only thing overgrown on this goon.
I looked at the floor (I really didn't need to see any more) when he crawled
onto the bed behind her. Boss Man hadgathered his clothing, saying something
about getting cleaned up. He also warned Chuck not to hurt her, as he walked out
of view.
"Me?" Chuck said, with a boastful laugh.
I heard Rebecca cry into her gag. It was the loudest yet. I tried not to listen
as Chuck began taunting her with every thrust. He also called her nasty names,
while boosting about his stamina. I was hoping he didn't, but he did last a long
time. Her anal abuse seemed to go on for half-an-hour or maybe it just seemed
that way standing in the darkened closet, now seemingly hotter then hell.
He finally started shouting obscenities and then he crashed down on her back.
When he finally crawled off the bed, he picked up the camera, boasting about how
much cum he'd just deposited in her asshole. He finished by reaching down and
spreading her ass apart to get some close-ups. He also spread her pussy apart
and took more photos. Rebecca was sobbing, her body limp. He cleaned up with her
top and dressed.
Boss Man came back in, and they untied her and put on their belts. Boss Man
laughed, saying she could keep his tie as a souvenir.
Chuck took a few more photos and held the camera high. "I can't wait to show the
guys down at the site, Monday. Of course you can come down Monday and get it,
but be prepared to suck dick...lots of it. We still own you. You think that I'm
the last construction slime ball to fuck your ass?" He laughed and then sneered
at her, "Whore!" He grabbed the mattress and flipped it over, sending Rebecca
crashing to the floor underneath it. They both walked out of the room.
I was afraid to move. Rebecca was sobbing. I knew I'd failed her miserably.
Reality set in: I wasn't hero material. In fact, as much as it killed me to
admit it, I enjoyed watching them humiliate her, but it stopped when they
crossed that line between being playful and being cruel. The way they treated
her in the end, it just didn't seem necessary.
I finally made my way out when I thought the coast was clear. I lifted the
mattress back onto the bed and reached back down to offer her a hand, but she
batted me away.
She pulled her gag free. "Check the driveway."
"Shit, why didn't I think of that?" I ran to the living room and looked out the
window; the black car was gone. I sighed and ran back into the bedroom.
"They're gone."
Rebecca was sitting on the bed rubbing her wrists. Her face was a mess. She
looked at me and started barking orders. She had me let her dog out of her
office, and then I ran into the kitchen and got her a small cup of spring water.
After downing a couple for myself, I rushed back.
"God, how am I going to explain these to my husband? He comes home Sunday
morning," she said, and then she downed the water.
Her wrists looked red and raw, with darkened lines from the leather belts.
"Fuck!" She screamed into the air, while springing off the bed. "My ass, too."
She looked at me with disgust. "Put the gun down...a lot of good that did."
She crunched up her water cup and tossed it at me and then picked up her dog. I
mumbled an apology and put the gun down and followed her next instruction by
putting the sheets and her clothes into the laundry bin. I suddenly noticed that
she was still naked. She rolled her puffy eyes when she caught my wandering eye.
"Men.... Follow me or should I say follow my naked, belt-whipped ass?" She
snapped, placing her dog on the floor. I nodded. (She seemed to have recovered
her composure and was back to her crabby ways.)
I followed her into the bathroom, where she leaned into the shower and turned on
the water. I turned away, noticing her hair was all matted and her left cheek
was flaky. It wasn't pretty. It also reminded me of what she just went through.
(For once, she had an excuse to act crabby.)
"Get in here."
I snapped my head around, not sure if I'd heard her correctly.
She was stepping into the shower. "Take off your sweaty clothes. You can wash my
back. Plus, we need to talk."
I watched her silhouette through the glass.
(I'd never showered with a woman before, and I really wanted to jump right in
there, but that meant getting naked myself. I didn't think I had a bad body,
but, after having just witnessed the construction dude, I was feeling, let's
say, a little inadequate.)
I finally said, "Fuck it," shed my clothes and stepped into the back of the
shower. I needed a shower anyways -- a cold one.
I stood at the back of the shower as she washed her hair. Even though I was
invited, I felt out of place. She lowered the spray and soaped up her body. She
scrubbed herself hard. It made sense. It also turned me on, especially when she
soaped up her large breasts.
"Well?" she said, handing me some soap. She turned and placed her hands on the
shower wall and arched her back. It took me by surprise, and I dropped the soap.
I quickly retrieved it and washed her back. She had me wash her ass and the
backs of her legs, too. I'm sure it really wasn't meant to be erotic, but, being
nineteen, I was sportin' wood in seconds.
She turned to let the spray rinse away the soap. She turned back again and ran a
hand in between her ass cheeks. I stood there, wide eyed, as she carefully
washed her asshole and her pussy.
"What?" Rebecca said, looking over her shoulder at me. I was covering my
erection with my hands, but Rebecca figured it out.
"Unbelievable," she said, sliding the shower door open. "Wash that thing and
make it quick."
I moved under the spray and turned the water cold. I felt so guilty, given what
she'd just gone through.
The cold water did the trick. I washed up and rinsed. Rebecca, wrapped in a
towel, was sitting in a chair and doing her makeup when I stepped out of the
shower. She giggled a little, noticing me quickly snatch a towel and wrap it
around me.
"Not too proud of that thing, are you?"
Her words stung. She pointed to a robe hanging on the wall. I figured it was her
husband's, but it fit nicely.
When she finished her makeup, I scooped up my clothes, and she led me back to
the bedroom and sat me on the end of the bed. She shook her finger at me. "How
could you let them do that to me?" She proceeded to give me a good ass-chewing.
I just sat there. I didn't have a defense.
She finished by slipping off her towel and slipping into a silky blue robe.
"Well, it's time for plan B," she said, wrapping the towel around her head.
I shook my head. "Can't I just go home? I mean, you're here."
"No," Rebecca said, firmly.
I bent down to pick up my clothes. (I'd had enough. I just wanted out of there.)
Rebecca rushed over. "No, please stay, stay the night." She was grabbing for my
clothes. "Please, I'll pay you. I know you need it."
I pulled away. (It was true, but I was a little miffed by that statement.)
She pulled at my robe. "Ok, what do you want?"
I pulled away and tried to put on my underwear. She pushed me, and I tumbled
back onto the bed. She climbed on top of me as I scampered back. She wore a look
of desperation. I pleaded with her, but she countered with her own pleas.
I noticed her robe hanging open. She caught my eye. "Oh, my, you are
something...after all I've been through."
I pushed her off. But she grabbed my arm and stuffed my hand into her robe. "Ok,
ok, here."
My body stiffened as I felt her breast.
She smiled. "Ok, if this is what it takes."
I pulled my hand out. She countered by slipping her robe off her shoulders. She
again put my hand on her breast. It feltso good, but yet so wrong as well. I
pulled away. She huffed and slammed me down on the bed and climbed on top of me
and lowered her breast to my mouth. I sucked on her big, meaty nipple...slowly
at first, and then I forgot about everything and really got into it.
I was a little disappointed when she finally pulled her breast away from me. She
started slowly sliding down my body and dropped her feet onto the floor. She
stood, but bent down and pulled at my robe. When she grabbed my cock, I felt my
face flush. I was hard again. She seemed amused, flipping my robe aside. "You
are going to help me?" she asked, sticking her tongue out and slithering it
along the shaft of my cock. She continued to lick at me while waiting for an
answer. "I don't like doing this, but say yes, and I'll suck you dry."
I didn't know just what I was agreeing to, but I finally agreed. (Anything to
feel those lips wrap around my cock.)
"Good. Now lets take care of this," she said, unwrapping her hair. She eased
forward and took my cock into her mouth. I didn't have anything to judge her by
(I'd had sex with a couple of girls in my Nova, but neither of them wanted to do
this), but it was by far the best feeling ever. I propped up on my elbows so I
could also watch her. Her soft lips, her velvet tongue, swirling around, her
bedroom eyes looking up my way. It was all too much. It wasn't long before I
warned her that I was close. She moved up and used her hand while still holding
her lips around the head of my cock. I was surprised to feel her lips tighten as
my cum started flowing. She continued to suck and lick at my cock, although she
had a sour look on her face.
"See, I'm not a bad partner," she said, after wiping her face with a towel.
She scampered into the bathroom and washed up. When she came back, she cleaned
me off. Now that I'd had sexual relief and, as much as I loved what just
happened and wanted a million more (I had to get a better car), I was back to
wanting out.
We made her bed, and she started talking about our partnership. I think Rebecca
could feel my immediate apprehension.
She climbed on top of me again, her breasts hanging from her chest. "Please, I
need a partner. I need that camera. You can break in.... Yeah, they always go
out drinking on Saturdays. Just get his truck keys and look through the truck in
the garage. He probably wouldn't bring it into the house where wifey might find
it. Oh my! Speaking of her.... Yeah, you could fuck her. Right, been reading the
newspapers?" Her face lit up. Her plan was already being tweaked.
I nodded, but just because I had been reading the papers, I didn't like where
this was heading at all.
"Yeah, we'll get you a ski mask. Yeah, my husband's warned me about that ski
mask maniac robber, because he's even raped. The last time he raped a mother and
daughter at gunpoint, while the man of the house watched, tied to a chair."
(I had been reading about it. It was all over the papers. Every time I read it,
I said that I hope someone shoots this fucking guy. He was just a scum bag that
breaks into people's houses, ties up the occupants and, if there was a female or
females that caught his fancy.... I mean, he's not even original.)
"Sure, you could take him by surprise and tie him up and make him watch as you
fuck his pretty wife...."
"Wait, wait, wait...!" I said, raising my voice. "That's not going to happen."
"Wait until you see her. She's younger, with bigger tits (and I've seen how you
like big tits)." She shook hers in my face.
"Still, not going to happen."
"Ok, Ok, suit yourself, but you're still going to rob them. You keep whatever
you want, just get me that camera. I just figured that you'd have a gun, and
she'd think you were that masked maniac, and she'd do whatever you wanted.... I
know I would."
She slid down my body and gripped my cock before she slid off and grabbed me by
the balls...tightly.
"I mean, I just sucked your cock and swallowed your cum. You are going to help
me, right?" She asked me again. I nodded quickly as she applied more pressure.
"Good. Let's sleep on it, and you'll see that I make a good partner."
I woke up hardly refreshed, as it had been a long night of tossing and turning.
Rebecca was in the shower. I looked around for my clothes. They were gone.
Rebecca came out and said something about breakfast. I showered (at her
direction) and found that robe again. I followed the scent of bacon into the
kitchen.
After breakfast, she promised to keep me entertained. She kept calling
me"partner." She started by letting me pick her bikini for the pool, tellingme
that she wanted me to be happy. I picked a skimpy white one. I also gotto watch
her change into it. It was a nice start to the day.
I had some swim shorts in my bag (she said she was washing my clothes) that I
changed into and then we spent a lot of time in and out of the pool. Ienjoyed
the out time because it meant I got to rub on her suntan lotion. I used my
"happy" freedom to spread it everywhere.
After lunch, I was getting a little horny so I decided to test her limits.I led
her over to this love swing and started asking her a lot of personal question
about sex. She started a little slowly, but then the stories flowed. I'm not
sure if they were true, but her stories about experimenting with other girls in
college really got me going.
I asked her about the two men. She wouldn't say much, but she did say thatall
week she had been bringing coffee down to the men. Every day they had an outfit
(cheerleader, nurse, school girl, hooters girl) for her to wear, and she'd have
to change into it and pass around the coffee.
"And Friday, they made me wear a small white t-shirt and that's it."
"Really?" I said, wondering what was so special about that.
"Well, when I came out to start my rounds, that asshole Chuck hit me with aspray
of water from this garden hose. It nearly disintegrated that damn shirt. I tried
to go back and get my clothes, but the door was locked. They made me pass out
coffee like that. It was so humiliating."
She shook her head, noticing my hardon tenting my shorts. "God, you should work
construction."
"Don't know about that, but I have wood." I grabbed her arm and stuck herhand
down my shorts. She tried to pull away (I'm sure my lame one-liner didn't help),
but she finally relaxed and jerked me for a little while and then I pulled on
her bikini top's tie. She pulled away and ran into the house.
I followed, picking up her bikini along the way. We played hide and seekuntil I
found her in the laundry room wrapped in a large white towel. Shestarted the
washer and sat on it. She had a sly look on her face, asking me if I'd ever
eaten pussy before. I just shook my head, but knew an invitation when I heard
it. I ripped her towel off. She giggled, and I lifted her legs. I fell forward
and dove in. My first taste of pussy, and it tasted more of chlorine (from the
pool) then anything. I didn't really know what I was doing (but I'd seen a few
pornos), so I followed her instructions. She seemed to like small circles around
her meaty clit. I think I brought her to an orgasm or two. At least, she sounded
like I did good.
I asked her to return the favor. Though she rolled her eyes, she did spin me
around and pull my shorts down and start sucking on me, but, after a couple of
minutes, she ran away again.
Her games went on and on.
I knew she was toying with me, but I was having my fun. It was a little strange
because I could tell she didn't really want to be doing all this, but that added
to the excitement. I got her to give me a fashion show, a lap dance, and a
terrific erotic massage.
As the day turned into night, I ordered her to masturbate with a dildo and --
just for kicks -- a banana. She had me horny as hell because she said I could do
anything to her (except for anal play, due to soreness), but she wouldn't let me
cum.
"Not until I have that camera," she kept telling me. "And then I'll suck and
fuck you dry...or you can have his sexy wife do it."
I cringed every time she said that, because I had no intentions of robbing
anyone, let alone raping some innocent woman. I just couldn't seem to tell her
or get away from her. (Maybe I was having way too much fun.)
It was finally midnight. Rebecca suggested we get ready. "Just remember, you get
that camera, and I'm yours. Anytime my husband is away, I'll be your little pet.
You can even buy me a dog collar and chain, and fuck whatever hole you want,
whatever, just get me that camera."
I couldn't speak. (It was like a dream come true.)
"Well, let's get dressed, although it might feel funny to have clothes on since
you had me naked, or almost, for most of the day." She giggled and walked down
the hall.
I looked to the front door. It was decision time. I wanted to leave but I just
couldn't move. (I also didn't have my car keys because they were in my missing
pants pocket.)
She came back into the living room a couple of minutes later. "What the fuck? We
should get going. Like I said, they should be passed out by now."
"I-I-I can't."
"You what?" she snapped.
"Can't." My eyes were already watering.
"Now listen here, you pussy," Rebecca said, standing in front of me, hands on
hips, stark naked. "I need you to get that camera. You said you would. I, ah,
played.... Just look at me. Naked. Christ! I stuck a banana up my puss.... Now
you owe me, that's how it works."
The evil in her glare scared me even more. I brushed past her and scampered to
the door. "You go get it." (I intended to run home and get my spare car keys.)
"Ok, have fun in prison," she answered back.
"Prison?" I wondered, looking back over my shoulder, as I stood, my hand on the
doorknob.
"That's right, that's where you're going if you walk out on me now."
I was bewildered. "But, what did I do?"
She sneered at me. "You raped me."
Her words hit like a slap in the face. I just shook my head.
"Yeah, you did, that's what I'll say." She held her bruised wrists up. "I've got
to tell my husband something in the morning."
"But I didn't...."
"Ever hear of DNA? Yours is everywhere. Remember that towel I wiped my face on?
You think I swallowed that stuff?"
(Oh Shit!) "I'll deny it. I mean, I'll tell them what really happened."
"Really.... Who do you think everyone's going to believe, especially when I tell
them how you had me strip at gunpoint and forced me to suck and about how you
tied me up and anally raped me over and over...."
(Where was that gun? With my finger prints.) "Ok!" I shouted. "Ok, I get it." I
knew I was no longer running the show and wondered if I had been at all.
"Good. Now dry those fucking tears and get in my bedroom, we got to get dressed
and get going."
*************************************
I found myself on my way to Chuck's house. Rebecca drove. She knew where they
lived (she'd been over there for a business supper, and it wasn't far). She also
gave me the clothes I was now wearing: long pants, a pullover, ski mask, and
gloves -- all black. A large sack, a hefty flashlight, several lengths of rope,
and a couple of scarves made up my burglar equipment. I looked to my lap,
staring at the black gun and my tire iron. I prayed that I didn't have to use
them.
I found myself standing outside Chuck's house. Rebecca acted as lookout. She
said she'd hit the horn if there was trouble.
"What am I doing?" I wondered, as I made my way over a fence into the back yard.
It was dark, but then a light clicked on. It freaked me a bit (but I figured it
was on a motion sensor), so I picked up the pace. Following Rebecca's plan, I
raced over to the sliding door and pried it open with my tire iron. I was in.
Rebecca told me the floor plan so, using my flashlight, I made my way straight
to the bedroom. The door was ajar, and I could hear snoring. I hoped they drank
a lot. I stood outside the door. My heart was pounding. I knew once I made my
way through the doors there was no turning back. I suddenly saw myself in an
orange prison jumpsuit with numbers on the front and back.
"Fuck, this ain't worth it." I scrambled back to the sliding door, but then I
thought about Rebecca and saw my name in the newspaper with "rapist" after it --
so back I went.
I stood, frozen, at the bedroom door remembering how big Chuck was. I cursed and
turned around. Now I saw Rebecca wearing that dog collar, waiting to fulfill my
every command. Back I went. This went on three or our times, each time with
different visions. Finally, my pride took over. After last night's performance
in the closet, I just wanted to prove to myself that I wasn't a total pussy.
With my tire iron in my right hand, and gun in the left, I crept into the
moonlit bedroom like, well, like a thief in the night. There were two figures
sleeping in the bed. Using the moon's light and the loud snoring, I found Chuck.
I went over to his side.
"What the...!" He screamed, lunging out at me. On instinct, I hit him with the
tire iron.
"Honey...honey?" His wife was stirring. I jumped on the bed and pressed the gun
to her head as she was about to scream. I pulled out a scarf and gagged her.
Then I rolled her over and used some rope to tie her hands. I was thankful to
hear Chuck moaning (at least I didn't kill him). I jumped down and tied his
hands behind his back. He started coming around and began fighting me when,
after gagging him, I was tying his feet, but I managed to get them tied and
brought them up and tied them to his hands. I wasn't a Boy Scout, so I hoped the
knots held.
I took out my flashlight and shined it on Chuck. I gasped; he was bleeding from
the head. I shined it on his wife, who was whimpering and looked terrified.
"Fuck, things had already gone wrong," I said to myself, wondering what to do
next. The plan was falling apart.
I took a few deep breaths and tried to regain my composure, my eyes stinging
from my own sweat. I turned and rifled through some desk drawers and just tossed
things around, remembering that I was supposed to make it look like a robbery. I
moved over by the bed and saw the woman trying to pull her nighty down with her
bound hands. It struck me as funny, so, being mischievous, I pulled it back up,
way up, reveling these little white panties. They seemed to be mesh. I gave her
a playful smack on the ass and went about my duties.
I didn't find anything worth keeping. I recalled that Rebecca told me about an
office. I tied the woman's feet to a bedpost, and raced down the hall and found
it on my second try. (I have a bad memory, and all the doors looked the same in
the dark.) I flipped on a light switch and saw some money on the desk with a
wallet and a few coins. I cursed, as his money was a mess and made up of mostly
ones. I put it in my sack with the wallet and then started rifling through the
drawers. I found his truck keys. "Yes!" I cried out. There was one drawer that I
couldn't open until I used the tire iron. Moving some papers, I found a camera.
"It's got to be," I thought to myself. "It looks the same." Relief flooded over
me. I had what I was looking for. Now I just went around the house, knocking
shit over. It was kind of fun.
I raced back into the bedroom. Chuck was moaning. I flashed my light on him and
saw he was pulling at his bindings. I shook my gun at him and moved him down and
tied him to a bedpost. He was cursing into his gag. He didn't look so big and
tough, now.
When I stood up, I noticed his wife again. She looked so helpless all tied up on
the bed, squirming about. She had managed to pull her nighty down again.
Something suddenly caught my eye. I jumped back in panic and then let out a deep
sigh. It was only my mirrored moonlit reflection. I had almost forgot about the
ski mask. I stared at my reflection. It got me thinking. I shifted my eyes to
the woman on the bed. Rebecca's voice ("You'll have a gun...she'll do whatever
you tell her") was ringing in my ears. I battled with my judgment.
"Ah, a little peek won't hurt." I untied her feet and then grabbed the woman by
the ankles and dragged her off the bed, while Chuck was frantically screaming
into his gag. I pulled her up to her feet and pushed her down the hall into
their office.
I led her over to the desk. With my arm I cleared off the desk in one swipe. I
picked her up by the waist and sat her on the desk. I took some breaths before I
put my tire iron, flashlight, and the sack (I was tired of carrying them
around) on a bookshelf. I kept the gun. I moved back over to the woman to check
her out. She looked away and moaned when I brushed against her. She smelled so
womanly; it sent my heart racing even faster. I wanted to see more.
I pulled on the top of her nighty and took a peek. (Wow! Rebecca was right about
her large breasts.) I pulled on this little bow on her nighty that was right in
between her breasts, but I stopped. I thought about how exciting it had been in
that closet, watching Rebecca being made to strip. I knew I could have torn her
clothes off, but I wanted her to do it.
I untied her hands (not the smartest criminal move in the world) and stepped
back. Her hands went to her gag.
"NO!" I snapped, waving my gun. She whimpered and dropped her hands.
"On your feet."
She didn't move until I pointed the gun at her.
I looked her over. Her nighty was baby blue with white lace. So Sexy. I pictured
it lying on the floor. Even sexier.
"Strip," I said, as forcefully as I could. I was surprised that she didn't even
waver until I realized that I still had my gun pointed at her. I gulped when she
slipped one shoulder strap off and then the other and it slid down her body. She
covered her ample breasts with her arms as I stared at her. I was also in awe of
my power. I waved the gun, and her arms dropped. I gulped again. Her breasts
were large and firm, and she had these awesome pink nipples. I just stared at
them with lust. She must have taken my stalling as wanting more because she
reached down and slid her panties down. (Oh god!) She was shaved totally bald,
and I thought I saw a piercing down there.
I made her turn around for me. I had to lower the gun because my arm was
trembling. She had one of those silly wavy tattoos on the small of her back, but
otherwise she was perfect. She spun back around. It was like she was right out
of those magazines that were not so well hidden under my bed. I laughed inside,
thinking her name had to be Amber or Brittany. I wondered if she was real. I
moved closer. She moaned into her gag and backed up against the desk. I ran my
gloved hand down her body and then back up. I spent some time fondling her
breasts (which seemed real). I could have spent hours feeling her up, but I tore
my hand away and slid it down her body until it nestled in-between her legs.
(What the...!) It might have been my imagination, but she seemed to part her
legs voluntarily. She was also moaning into her gag pretty good. It was weird.
Maybe she was enjoying this or maybe she wanted to say something.
I reached up and untied her gag. She took some deep breaths and puckered her
lips. It surprised me, but I leaned forward to kiss her. Her lips were so soft
and inviting, I pressed harder. I felt her tongue on mine. I was starting to get
into it when I felt a stinging pain.
"Ahhh...What the fuck!" I screamed out. (She'd bit my bottom lip.)
She laughed mockingly and then spat at me, "Rapist!"
I raised my hand, but I hesitated, realizing what she just called me.
"What's the matter, pussy. Get it over with. Is this the only way you can score?
I know your MO." She was taunting me. (The masked man in the newspapers never
physically hurt any of his female victims.)
"You think I'm scared of that little thing?" she said, looking down at my tented
pants.
Now she pissed me off. I'd only wanted to see her naked, but now.... I spun her
around and pushed her back against the desk. I also put the scarf back in place,
cursing myself for taking it off in the first place.
"Is this what you want?" I screamed, pulling down my pants. I bit off a glove
and licked a couple of fingers. "Huh?" I grunted, thrusting my fingers into her
pussy.
"It looks like you're ready to go." I kicked her feet apart and ran my cock
along her ass cheeks. It took me a little repositioning, but then I was able to
slide into her pussy. I used her hair for leverage and didn't even care about
how hard I was pulling it. I mean, even with a gun, I don't get any respect. I
wiped some blood from my lip. It made me think about her asshole or even her
mouth, but both seemed like problems, so I kept at it. Her pussy was plenty
satisfying anyways. I fucked her as hard as I could until I came deep inside of
her pussy. (She remained emotionless throughout.)
"Was it good for you?" I asked, pushing her down against the desk.
I heard some rustling behind me. I snapped around.
"Freeze, asshole!" It was two cops, their guns pointed at me. Two more joined
them.
Things got hazy quickly. One of them must have told me to drop my gun because I
did. I was numb...like I'd gone into shock. I was flung to the floor, my pants
still down around my ankles. The cold cuffs snapped into place.
I don't know if I blacked out, but the next thing I remember was lots of
screaming and threats from onlookers as I sat in the back of a squad car.
They had caught the masked maniac.
*************************************
I told the truth about Rebecca blackmailing me, but I wasn't surprised that no
one believed my story. After all, I had been caught, pants around my ankles.
Deep inside, I knew I should be punished for my actions that night, but I wasn't
the villain they thought I was.
That first night in jail was the scariest of my life. Up to that point I didn't
even have a parking ticket on my record. The next day wasn't any better, as I
had to face my mortified parents and try to explain. It didn't go too well. I
never saw them again.
The next day I got taken down to this interrogation room. The detective that I
first saw was there smoking a cigarette.
"Rebecca Anderson put you up to this, you say?"
"Yeah," I mumbled.
"Still sticking to that one, eh?"
"Yeah, I told you."
"I know what you said, but we know better."
I wasn't really surprised that he didn't believe me, but it was starting to bug
me.
"You see, I just saw Rebecca Anderson, and I must say you did quite a number on
her."
My head snapped up. My brain screamed, "She didn't!"
"Seems like your so-called partner was attacked by a masked man the other
night," the detective said, blowing smoke in my face. "We collected some
evidence, and it's on its way to the lab."
"It was consensual," I cried out. "Only a blow job. I told you."
"Right." The detective tossed some photos on the table. I didn't have to look at
them. I know it didn't look good. "Plus, it says here she suffered some anal
damage and a few whip marks. Still want to stick to that consensual blow job
story?"
"I told you, it was that big guy and his boss who did that."
"I know. I know. While you hid in the closet. And then you went over to his
house...to get a camera was it?"
"Yeah."
"And then you just HAD to stick your dick in his wife?"
I had no answer for that one.
The detective moved closer and got in my face. "And you said it was a guy
named...?"
"Chuck. I told you, Chuck."
The detective laughed and then threw another picture on the table in front of
me. It was a man, but I didn't recognize him right off the bat.
"Are your eyes ok?"
"Yeah, but I don't know him. I don't think."
"It's a guy name Richard. Ring a bell?"
"No," I said, a bit flustered under the hot lights.
"He is the guy you hit with a tire iron!" the detective screamed. "And then you
raped his wife before we caught your scummy ass."
"What?" I snapped. It felt like I was going to be physically ill.
"Care to change your story?"
I didn't and didn't understand. For the first time I asked for a lawyer.
I spent the next few days in thoughts and dreams. I, like most of the men who
share my days, ponder how...? How things got to this point. I don't know how
many times I've said to myself -- what was I thinking? The one thing that REALLY
bothered me was they thought I was the real masked maniac. I was now the scum
bag.
I finally met with my court-appointed lawyer. He informed me that they had put a
hold on the masked maniac cases. They were convinced that it was me, and none of
the victims wanted to testify -- except for Richard's wife and Rebecca. He said
it like it was good news.
A couple of months later, while waiting for trial, my lawyer gave me some
documents to look over. He was trying to prove my case, but things weren't going
well. He said they even found some fibers from my mask at the mother and
daughter's house, and they all identified my gun as the same.
"Although the gun wasn't even loaded. Ah, stolen in California."
"Really?" I said, shaking my head. "Wait, you said they found fibers at that
other house?" I scratched my head.
"Yeah, ones that matched your mask. Although it's a common type, so that's not
too damning. But they all said it looked just like the one they caught you
with."
"How could that be?" I wondered.
"Although they were surprised at your age."
"Huh?" I said, looking up at him.
"Yeah. Same size and all, but some of them thought you'd be older."
It hit me. "Oh, fuck!"
"What?"
"I'm so stupid. The real masked maniac...I know who it is."
My lawyer scrunched his face.
"It's Rebecca's husband...what's his face? Yeah, Mr. Anderson."
My lawyer sat back.
"Yeah, you remember I told you that Rebecca gave me the gun and the clothes and
the black mask. That's why they match. He's the real one. I've never even been
to California. He's a pilot, so I'm sure he has. Somehow she must have found out
and, for love or whatever, set me up to take the fall."
My lawyer's face lit up. "So you're saying that Rebecca must have found out, and
she set you up so everyone would think it was you. If her husband stops now he's
scot free."
"Yeah...," I said (a little annoyed that my lawyer always repeated me just to
make sure he understood). "You said the cops got an anonymous 911 call the night
I was arrested, saying they saw someone breaking in. Rebecca must have called
because no one could see into that backyard. You also said the attacks stopped
now, that's because they're both in on it. "
"All well and good," my lawyer said, folding his arms. "But we have to try to
prove it in court. And we can't find those two guys you saw. It would have
helped if you remembered what they looked like. Never mind that Rebecca is
sticking to her story, and they caught you red handed.... See what I'm saying?"
I did. I knew I was fucked. I also knew it was time to prepare myself for days
and nights behind bars, and not in jail but in prison. And, with the list of
charges facing me, I had a feeling I was heading there for a long time.
Our time was up. My lawyer vowed to do his best, and I was led back to my cell.
I felt so stupid. It was like I could see it all now. I don't know how I didn't
question Rebecca when she gave me those clothes and that mask. She must have
cleaned the gun and that's why only my fingerprints were on it. She probably
unloaded it as well. I don't know how she picked that house that night but she
obviously knew them and didn't like them. Maybe I'll never know.
I suddenly pictured that poor lady I attacked. It got me talking to myself.
"Yeah, all that sexual teasing and promises of more. Rebecca had me so horny,
that's why I did what I did."
"How could I have thought that a woman like Rebecca would ever be your
plaything? Idiot! As it turned out, I must have been her toy all along."
Some would say that none of that matters. I still attacked an innocent woman at
gunpoint. Maybe they're right. Maybe I'm headed right where I belong.
But maybe one day I'll get out and make another visit to 9 Paradise Lane and
exact my vengeance. It's all I have to look forward to.
The End
Thanks for reading my story. I hope it was worth your time.
Your comments and suggestions are always welcomed.
Edited by C. Lakewood
