Decisions and Consequences
A young man faces some difficult decisions and has to deal with the consequences. What would you have done?*
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 looked up, 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."
"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, 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.
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 black pants 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. Chuck started to paw at her breasts.
"Easy, Chuck," the little guy said, moving over to the bed. He had to pry Chuck's hands off her breast. "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. Don‘t make me strip like a slut."
"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. They were the best I’d seen. 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." I watched with wide eyes as 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. Just like I couldn’t stop my dick from inflating. 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 the inside of 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. Show times over."
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, and my dick was as hard as I ever felt it, 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. Plus, who would I explain the hardon. 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 had gathered 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.
He must have started in her pussy because he said something about her pussy being tight. Then, I heard Rebecca cry into her gag. It was the loudest yet. I guess he moved on. 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 red 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.
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. What a pose! 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. She had a wash cloth. I stood there, wide eyed, as she carefully washed her pussy and then lastly her asshole.
"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 felt so 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 slipped her robe off and 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 heard he even made them go down on each other. Imagine that."
(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.... Do her ass like they did mine."
"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 and stroked me until I was hard. Then 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. “If you suck me again.”
She shook her head with disgust. “Men!” She sighed and took me into her mouth. I folded my hands under my head and really enjoyed this one. When I was getting close I moved her to the floor, on her knees, and ran my cock between her breasts. They were just built for fucking and when I came, I had Rebecca hold them up for me like they do in the movies. It was too much fun.
Rebecca clean up again and came back into the bedroom. I had a nighty waiting for her. She snorted but put it on. "I think I‘m all sucked out. 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, telling me that she wanted me to be happy. I picked a skimpy white one. I also got to 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. I enjoyed 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 stripped her naked. I pulled her down on my lap. I started asking her a lot of personal question about sex as I played with her breasts and fingered her pussy. 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 that all 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 a spray 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. I assumed she felt my hardon. "God, you should work construction."
"Don't know about that, but I have wood." I slipped her off my lap and grabbed her arm and stuck her hand 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 her head down and made her suck me. She did for a few minutes and then she pulled away and ran into the house. I followed.
We played hide and seek until I found her in the laundry room wrapped in a large white towel. She started 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 getting late. I made one more attempt. I told Rebbeca I was going to fuck her with her dildo, which I did, but then I snuck my dick into her. She caught me after a minute or two and spun around. I forced my dick into her mouth. She was pissed but she sucked. Well, not really. She just kind of swirled her tongue around my cock. It felt strange but exciting.
It was finally midnight. Rebecca took my dick out of her mouth just as I was about to cum. She 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 and I‘ll be your cum slut."
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."
"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. Jesus, your dick spent half the day in my mouth. 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. I couldn’t breath.
"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? I also have your car keys. You must have dropped them."
(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 I caught you stealing from me so I fired your ass. You came back with a gun. You had me strip at gunpoint and forced me to suck you off 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 and her feet. 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 coped a cheep feel and then 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 and bend over. The I had her spread herself open for me. I was right about the piercing. (God, what power.) 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 and retied her hands. 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, throwing her to the floor.
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. Dick dripping cum. 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. "She was tied up for days. 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?"
"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 Heart. 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. “Richard?”
"Care to change your story?"
I didn't and I 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 and mask 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!"
"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. They have vanished. 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. They were just excuses. I still attacked an innocent woman at gunpoint. Maybe they're right. Maybe I'm headed right where I belong. I have to pay the consequences.
Some simple facts haunt my every night.... If only I left after I found that camera (which obviously wasn’t even the camera I was looking for). Or if I ran when Rebecca first showed me that gun. I, yet another passenger on the ship of fools.
Rebecca’s sly smile when she dropped me off at that house, burnt into my memory. I can’t shake it. The only thing that gets me through another day in my skin, is that hope that maybe one day I'll get out, and make another visit to Rebecca's and exact my vengeance.
It's all I have to look forward to.
Thanks for reading my story. I hope it was worth your time.
Your comments and suggestions are always welcomed.