Take Me With You(5)

She's petrified. Her hands quiver as she grabs the tape, but her eyes are glued on me. She can't see me. Not with the mask and the light in her eyes, but she's trying. “Tape his hands together, then his feet.”

“Please don't hurt us,” she begs, her voice quavering in terror.

“Just do what I say, and you'll be fine.”

She tries to cover her nude body with the sheet.

“No,” I say. “There's no time for that.”

She pulls the tape open, barely able to rip it off the roll because of her nervous hands, but she finally gets it.

“Keep going. I don't want to see his hands at all.” She completely envelops his hands in the tape. “Now his ankles. At least ten times around. Count them out loud.”

“One…” she whimpers. She stops.

“Count them all,” I grunt.

“Three…four…five…”

I wait until she's done. Until the main threat is lying on his side, bound. I rip the tape from her hands and tie her hands behind her back.

“It's gonna be okay,” Don whispers to her.

“Shut up,” I order. He's completely emasculated. I'm the man of this fucking house now. This is my fucking castle.

Once she's taped up, I pull Don off the bed and onto the floor. He hits the green shag carpet with a thud. Now, he can see nothing over the bed.

“Show me where your purse is,” I demand, pulling Connie to her feet and dragging her to the living room. Now it's just us. Now Don doesn't exist. I have conquered everything that is his. I grab a blindfold.

“But you said—”

“If you don't shut up, I'll fucking kill him,” I rasp into her ear. There will be no more assurances of safety. Now I am in complete control. I bind her feet together as she sobs.

“You have a choice,” I declare in a low gruff. I walk over to their fireplace and grab a poker.

“Oh my god,” she cries.

“I hit him, as hard as I can, with this. Five times in the head, five times in the stomach. Or I fuck you.” I wave the poker tauntingly in front of her. “How much do you love him?”

“Please don't,” she whimpers, bowing her head in complete submission.

“Choose or I'll choose for you.”

“Don't hit him. I'll do it,” she answers in defeat.

“Well, it's not your choice. It's his.”

“Please don't!” she begs, a little louder than I'd like. I tape her mouth shut and blindfold her. There's a few more things I need to do to make sure this script goes according to plan. I make my way to the kitchen and grab a stack of dishes, leaving behind Connie in the living room.

I speed back to the bedroom and find Don trying to chew off his restraints.

“Just take whatever you want,” he repeats.

“You have a choice. I gave the same one to Connie.” I hold the poker in front of me menacingly. “You either take five, full-force hits to the head, five to the stomach. Or I fuck her. You wanna guess what she chose?”

“You sick fuck!” he scowls. “You said you just wanted money.”

“She told me to come here and bash your fucking head in. But I think I'll veto. I'd much rather have some pussy.”

Don desperately tries to pull out of his restraints, but I pull him by his hair, extending his neck, and tape his over his mouth and eyes.

“Get on your fucking hands and knees.” He holds his kneeling position defiantly.

“Hands and fucking knees,” I repeat. “She has a chance to live.” I place the gun to his temple. Without having to say another word, he obeys. I place the stack of dishes on his back. I whip a pillowcase off one of the pillows and cover his head. I use tape to secure it around his neck.

“If you try anything, I'll hear it. I'll kill you, then I'll kill her.”

The pillowcase draws in and out with each breath. I realize combined with the tape on his mouth he might suffocate. I'm not here to kill. The threats are just another means for control. So I pull a hunting knife out of my ankle holster and cut a small slit in the fabric for more ventilation. That's as much generosity as he is getting from me. The stage is set, and it's time to make all of this mine.

I come back to the living room. Connie is on her knees, frantically turning her head, trying to get a sense of where I am. She has no idea I'm right in front of her. I push her down to the floor and she wails, but it's muffled under the duct tape. She's trying to say something. Probably begging. But it's pointless. I don't know mercy.

I pull off my sweatpants grabbing one of her tits to get me going. Normally, I'd be rock hard, but today I'm not all the way there.

A plate crashes. Son of a bitch. I run back to the bedroom. Don is still in place, one of the plates slid off the top. “Don't fucking test me,” I snarl. I remember the lube is in her nightstand drawer. I didn't need to bring my own as they have a healthy supply.

When I come back to the living room, Connie is hopping towards the front door. Blindfolded, naked, and bound, I almost admire her tenacity, but anger is the overriding response. I grab her by the waist and pick her up in one motion. She writhes and kicks, but she's back on the floor in seconds.

I mount her, rubbing the lube on myself as I rub my head against her pussy. It won't fucking get all the way hard.