Holly's Home Invasion
Part 5
'What the fuck is that supposed to mean?' Red growled.
'It means you fucked me over, you fucking sonofabitch,' Jerry blurted out
furiously, 'that gun's mine. I found it and you suckered me out of it.' His
voice mutated to a sarcastic mimicry of the other man's. 'We're a team, Jerry,
gimme the gun, Jerry.' He glared fiercely at Red. 'Yeah, we're a great fucking
team all right. I want that gun back, Red, and I want it now. Gimme the fucking
gun, motherfucker.'
'So that's what this is all about, huh?' Red's tone was low, evenly pitched,
laced with menace. 'This isn't about me fucking the bitch while you were
upstairs taking a crap. This is about the fucking gun.' His lips curled angrily
as he advanced on the other man, his hands balled into fists. 'You want that
fucking gun, motherfucker?' he snarled, 'you wanna have it? How about if I let
you have my fist in your fucking teeth instead of the gun?'
He threw his fist and smashed it viciously into the other man's mouth. I heard a
crunching noise and saw Jerry spit out a tooth. Blood ran from his mouth down
his chin. Jerry raised a hand to his mouth, saw the blood and stared at Red
disbelievingly. With a swift sudden movement, he drew his gun, the one he had
used to subdue me before binding me. He pointed it at Red's head.
'You fucking scumbag,' he spat, 'you want a fucking bullet through your head? I
want the gun. Hand it over. Pull it out slowly and hand it to me and I'm outta
here. You can keep your fucking cunts.' He kept his weapon aimed at Red, his gun
hand extended and rigid, his other hand clenched furiously at his side.
I tugged futilely at my bonds, suddenly terrified at the simmering rage that
threatened to boil over into murderous violence. Beth too was struggling,
rearing backwards, trying to tear herself from the table, grunts of desperation
issuing from behind her gag. Her hands writhed helplessly at the small of her
back and her cuffs rattled noisily against the table legs as she struggled to
free herself. I saw Slim give her a brief glance, step behind her and push her
back down with a quick shove at the back of her head. Her face fell heavily on
the tabletop. She lay there sobbing, her legs quivering, her hands twitching
fitfully in their bindings like the wings of a trapped bird.
'Put the fucking gun down, Jerry.' It was Slim. He had drawn his gun, aimed it
at Jerry's chest. 'Put the gun down!' he barked, 'now! This shit ends right
now!' Jerry glanced at him, third fingered him and cocked his weapon, kept it
pointed at Red's head. Two shots rang out. Then another two shots. I heard a
gasp and saw Jerry clutch at his chest and fall heavily to the floor. His body
spasmed then lay still. Blood oozed from two wounds in his chest and trickled
down on the tiled floor.
'Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.' I heard Red scream out, 'he fucking shot me.' He was
clutching his shoulder. I strained my head and stared at Beth, terrified that
she might have been hit in the crossfire. I grunted frantically at her, praying
that she was all right. She raised her head, whimpered at me from behind her
gag, a muted mewling of panic and fear. Her eyes were round, wild with terror.
But at least she was unharmed. I stole a glance at her legs and looked away in
disgust. Drying semen caked her thighs at the crotch and her panties still clung
wetly to her buttocks. Like my own, they were still revoltingly soaked with
ejaculate. A mother and daughter freshly raped, bound and gagged, one lying
hogtied on the floor, the other still bent over the raping rack in her
semen-logged lingerie, two armed rapists standing over a dead body that lay
bleeding on the floor, the scene in my living room was like a scene from hell.
'He's dead, right?' It was Slim.
'Yeah,' Red grunted as he stared at Jerry's prostrate and bleeding body, 'he's
gone all right. I fucking owe you one.'
'Forget about it. How about you? You hit bad?'
Red grimaced. 'Fucking bullet went through my shoulder. I'll live.'
'Fuck. He could have killed you.'
'Yeah. Well he fucking got what was coming to him. You know what? We got a real
major problem on our hands. Some motherfucker could've heard those shots.'
'No shit. We gotta get the hell outta here.' Slim looked down at my gagged and
hogtied body on the floor, then at Beth still standing bent over the raping
table, naked and shackled, her body trembling with shock. 'What about these
cunts?' he asked, 'leave 'em behind, waste 'em both, what do we do?'
'Leave 'em behind? Forget about it, no fucking way. They go with us. Look around
and see if you can find some ID for the cunt on the table so we can tag her.
There's some handbags on a table by the door. I went through 'em when we came in
but I was looking for cash, not ID.'
'OK, I'll go check,' Slim said. A moment later he was back with our driving
licenses.
'Guess what,' he muttered, 'looks like we bagged a mother and daughter here.'
'No shit?'
'Yep, I found their ID's. The older cunt's name is Holly Butler, age 44. The one
on the table's called Beth. Same family name. Butler. She's 24.'
'How about that,' Red murmured, 'gimme the fucking ID, the one for the chick.
Slim handed it to him. Red went to the sofa clutching his wounded shoulder and
picked up one of the white plastic straps that lay there amid the ropes and
gags, flex cuffs as I knew they were called, used by police to handcuff people
arrested during civil disturbances. I remembered the intimidating pictures I'd
seen in the papers and on television, groups of ordinary men and women sitting
on the ground like captured prisoners on a battlefield with their hands
humiliatingly strapped behind their backs by means of these loathsome plastic
restraints. I watched the rapist pull a staple gun from his pocket and staple
the plastic strap to my daughter's driving license, watched him step over to
where she lay sobbing on the table and fasten it to one of her wrists above the
rope bindings. Earmarked for enslavement, I thought bitterly, tagged like an
item of merchandise marked for sale. I saw Beth cringe as the cuff was strapped
in place and ratcheted tightly around her wrist behind her.
'Nicely tied, gagged and tagged,' he murmured as he patted her panties and
casually ran an exploratory finger over her still moist and glistening vaginal
lips. 'You're all set, sweetheart,' he told her, 'you're a good kid. Just hang
in there and we're gonna find you a nice buyer. Hogtie this cunt, Slim. Do it
tight but no nerve damage. I want her in good shape for the sale. This is one
fucking good piece of merchandise.'
'You got it,' Slim said. He moved to the sofa, picked up some rope and squatted
down behind my bound and shackled daughter, now freshly tagged for slavery. She
fidgeted in her bonds, aware that she was about to be hogtied like her mother.
She looked at me helplessly, her eyes glazed from the trauma of the rape and the
terrible awareness of her enslavement. A sudden image flashed through my mind of
Beth as I had seen her when I was bound over the raping table, her face
contorted with pain, her mouth opened in a muffled scream around the tautly
bound gag strap as her rapist plowed savagely into her defenseless ass. The
image lingered painfully in my mind.
'Tell you what,' Red mused, 'maybe we don't waste the older cunt, what's her
name, Holly? What do you say we collect the two of 'em and sell 'em as a pair?
We won't even get a buck for mom here on her own but say we throw her in with
her daughter. We might be able to clear like, what? 85 thousand for the two of
'em? It depends if we can get the right buyer. Some of 'em go for mother and
daughter combos. Turns 'em on.'
A dim glimmer of hope pierced the grim darkness. I clung to it and prayed
silently. At that moment I would have given everything I had to have lain there
with a slave tag fastened to one of my wrists behind my back. Bondage and
slavery, bitter as it was, was better than dying, I thought grimly.
'I dunno, Red,' Slim muttered. Intent on his task, he had lashed a length of the
white cotton rope to one of Beth's shackled ankles and unlocked the hinged
handcuff that secured it to the table. The shackling had bruised her. The
markings of her confinement were plainly visible, two red lines grooved into the
flesh all the way around her ankle. The rapist swiftly shifted Beth to one side
and roped her feet together before unlocking the second set of cuffs from the
table.
'Can't have you pulling the same fucking stunt as your mom,' he told her.
Released from the table and bound hand and foot, Beth swayed and lost her
balance. The rapist caught her as she fell sideways and dropped her face down on
the floor next to where I lay. She landed on her breasts. An agonized groan
escaped from behind her gag as she gasped for air.
'Easy on the merchandise, Slim,' Red told him sharply.
'She's OK, just a little winded. Aren't you, sweetheart?' Slim bent down and
pulled Beth's head up by her hair, forced it back to look at her face. She was
crying. Her eyes gazed at him hopelessly.
'She's fine,' the rapist said coldly. He released Beth's hair, allowed her head
to flop back on the floor. 'Sell the two of 'em as a pair?' he went on, 'think
about what you're saying, Red. Like you said yourself, you're gonna need the
right buyer for that, some dude who fucking wants a mother and daughter. I
dunno. It could take weeks to find him, if you ask me.' Working swiftly, he
folded Beth's legs at the knees, pushed her feet down smartly against the backs
of her thighs and lashed her ankles tautly and securely to her crossed wrists.
She groaned with pain as her limbs struggled to adjust to their brutally
uncomfortable confinement. The rapist tied off the knots on her bindings with a
few quick hard tugs at her wrists and stood up.
'And what the fuck are we gonna get,' Slim went on, 'for the extra hassle of
keeping these two cunts locked up in a holding cell for all that time, feeding
'em, watering 'em, soaping 'em down so they're nice and clean for the buyers,
making sure the cuffs and leg irons go back on every fucking time they gotta be
walked to the crapper. Ten K? Fifteen K maybe? While all we gotta do is sell the
chick on her own. She'll sell tomorrow or the next day. We get rid of her and we
can concentrate on bagging the next bunch. The numbers just don't add up.'
'I hear you,' Red muttered.
'Yeah I'm telling you, holding on to mom here is a big fucking mistake. I say
waste the bitch and get it over with. Just gimme the word and I'll do her
myself. We can dump her body along with Jerry's. I mean, shit, it's not like her
holes are any fucking good. Every piece of merchandise has got to be able to
sell itself, that's what you always tell me.'
Red hesitated for a moment. 'OK, Slim' he said finally, 'you're probably right.
Fuck it. We're running outta time. Load 'em up in the van, one at a time. Jerry
too. The mother goes in first.'
I was to be killed. I felt horribly cold. I gazed wistfully at my daughter. She
lay beside me helplessly trussed for transport, her ID cuffed to one of her
wrists, her hands and feet lashed securely behind her back, her eyes staring
hopelessly at me over her gag. I wished there were some way I could let her know
how much I loved her, how much it hurt to have to say good bye to her like this,
gagged and hogtied beside her for loading and execution. At least she would
live. Ruthlessly enslaved but alive. I broke out in tears and wept bitterly.
At that moment, there was a knock on the front door.
The two men froze. I prayed desperately that it was the police. Or at least one
of the neighbors who might have heard the shots. Then I heard a woman's voice
and my heart sank through the floor.
'You there, Beth?' the woman called out. I knew at once who it was. It was
Belinda, the assistant librarian at the school where I taught, a friend of
Beth's. She'd called early this morning telling me she might drop in late in the
afternoon, pick up Beth and go out with her to a disco. I'd forgotten about it
completely in the trauma of the assault. Red was suddenly at my side, crouching
and holding a knife to my throat. I lay very still in my bindings, terrified,
trembling with fear. I could feel the sharp edge of the blade against my neck.
'Who the fuck is it? Friend of your daughter's?' he hissed. I nodded weakly. He
moved away, padded silently to the door and peered through the peephole,
clutching his wounded shoulder.
'Whaddya know,' he muttered, 'cute chick, nice tits, good legs, dressed like a
fucking whore.' I shuddered. Poor Belinda. If only there were some way I could
warn her, I thought desperately. But there was nothing I could do. The expertly
applied gag saw to that. Red ran back to where I lay hogtied, jammed his knife
back against my throat and signaled to Slim.
'Open the fucking door and get her in here,' he whispered. Slim moved swiftly to
the door. He unbolted it and swung it open, gun in hand.
Belinda's eyes widened in horror as she saw the rapist's gun pointed at her
midriff, saw the hellish scene of rape and murder that had been played out in my
living room. My daughter and I lying face down on the floor, stripped and
gagged, helplessly hogtied with our lingerie in disarray and our thighs caked
with drying semen, both of us freshly and visibly raped, a dead man lying
bleeding on the floor, a masked intruder at my throat holding a knife to it. The
look of horror turned to one of sheer terror. Belinda's mouth gaped open in a
scream. She turned to run. Slim moved in behind her, quickly clamped a hand over
her mouth and jammed his gun up against her neck.
