The New Neighbour It had been another long day at work. I was sprawled across the couch in my dirty work T-shirt and shorts, too tired to even get out of them and into something more comfortable. My checkered over-shirt and boots lay in the front doorway where I'd dumped them when I came home about two hours ago. The TV was on, volume down low, but I was barely watching it. Later, I knew there was an old war flick from the 70s on and my plan was to watch it with a beer or two for company. But for now I was too busy concentrating on the various muscular aches I'd earned from all the hard labour I'd been doing that day. And to top them off, I had the beginnings of a pounding headache. So I was less that impressed when the woman in the apartment next door began playing her techno music ridiculously loud. THUMP-THUMP-THUMP- Again. THUMP-THUMP- For the third night in a row. THUMP- Which made it three out of three nights since she'd moved in. THUMP-THUMP-THUMP- I sighed irritably and for a second fantasised about storming over there, pounding on the door with a clenched fist and screaming at her to ""SHUT THE FUCK UP!" But I wasn't that kind of person. At least, not usually. THUMP-THUMP- I reasoned that maybe it was just one song. A favourite that she just had to listen to because it'd been a long day at work for her as well. Something that she'd promised herself she'd listen to when she got home to drive any thoughts of work away. I could understand that. Faith No More and Metallica often did the same for me. But minutes later, after an almost imperceptible change in beat, the music was still blaring. In fact, if anything, it seemed the woman had turned it up. Now, instead of just rattling the walls, it was literally shaking them. Worse, my headache was beginning to pound in time with the beat ... THUMP-(POUND)-THUMP-(POUND)- ... and my initial irritation was giving way to full blown anger. What the fuck does she think she's doing? I asked myself. Who the hell comes home and turns their music up to such an unbearable level? Especially in an apartment building. Christ, it's almost as bad a being in a Club. If someone were leaning in my ear and yelling at me, I'd barely be able to hear them. THUMP-(POUND)-THUMP-(POUND)- I knew it was a woman next door because on the first night she'd moved in, I'd caught a glimpse of a seamed stocking leg and long black stiletto heel entering her apartment as I came home from work. I'd hurried out of the elevator to catch a better look, maybe say "Hi" and welcome her into the building, but by the time I'd reached her door it was in the process of slamming shut. Not long after, the music had started. But it had been nowhere hear as loud as it was tonight. THUMP-(POUND)- I squeezed my eyes shut and tried to will away the music. To concentrate on pleasant memories and upcoming plans. But it was too loud. The intermittent thumping seemed to pool together somewhere in my stomach and then make a blinding rush for the front of my brain. Teeth gritted against the pain, I stood up. Sweat was beading on my brow and beginning to slide down my face. THUMP-(POUND)-THUMP-(POUND)-THUMP- With a snarl of rage, I snatched up my keys. Standing, I stormed across the room, kicking my work boots and over-shirt aside as I wrenched the front door open. I slammed it shut behind me and walked the few paces down the corridor to my neighbour's apartment. I paused there, trying to get a grip on my anger. I knew that I would achieve little by giving into the temptation to rant and rave. A cooler head was required. Hopefully, the woman would understand if I just calmly asked her to please turn the music down a little. If that didn't work, I would explain that I had a headache and needed to get my rest for another long day at work. Thump-(Pound)-Thump- Yes, any sensible person would understand that. No question about it. thump-thump-thump- I rapped my knuckles on the door firmly, hoping to be heard above the music. After a few moments I knocked again - this time somewhat louder. When that failed to raise a response, I used a closed fist to hit the door hard. Thump-Thump-Thu- Abruptly, the music was turned right down. My ears rang with the echo of the bass. "Who is it?" called a muffled feminine voice. "Your next door neighbour." I answered, speaking loud enough to be heard through the door. "What do you want?" "Just a quick word." The sound of bolts being pulled and chains being undone answered my explanation. The door opened fully, exposing a stunning woman of average height with a mass of slightly wavy blonde hair that fell well past her shoulders. She was dressed in a very tight black dress that accentuated the rounded curves of her breasts and was short enough to reveal a glimpse of the tops of her stockings. Her eyes were round and blue, her lips full and red. She held a half-filled tumbler of amber liquid in her right hand. "Come in," she said, and sauntered away from the door, exposing the backs of her seamed stockings. My eyes traveled down to see that her feet were bare except for the stockings' reinforced soles. I followed her inside, shutting the door behind me. By the time I turned around, she was sitting on one end of a three-seater leather couch and gesturing for me to take a seat beside her. "I really shouldn't," I said as I walked around a glass coffee table to stand above her. "I just wanted to have a quick word about ..." "Please," she interrupted firmly, "I'd be much more comfortable if you had a seat." I relented, but chose to sit at the other end of the couch and learn forward somewhat uncomfortably. As I did so, I noticed a pair of long silky white gloves draped across the arm of the other single chair in the room. Next to them was a long black and gold Hermes scarf. I wandered what they were doing hanging there. Had she just been to some kind of oddly timed ball? Or were they set out for the coming night's activities? "Would you like a drink?" "No, I'm fine, thank you." She smiled at me, flashing a set of flawless white teeth, and leaned to her side to pick up a bottle of Chivas Regal and a second tumbler. "But I insist," was all she said as she poured a second glass. Not wanting to be rude, I took the offered drink and sipped a mouthful. For the first time, I noticed her impressive stereo system set up against the wall that separated our apartments. No wonder it had been like being in a club! All that shielded me from her music was a single layer of brick and plaster. The woman followed my gaze. "Impressive system, isn't it?" I nodded. "Actually, that's what I wanted to talk to you about. Your music." The woman looked straight at me, her lips pursed into an almost amused smirk. I ploughed on. "It's very loud. In fact, from my apartment, it's, uhm, it's too loud. I can barely hear myself think." The woman held my gaze and slid half a seat closer. Her eyes were hooded. She almost seemed out of it. "Is that a problem?" I frowned again, confused by this whole situation. "Of course it's a problem!" Some of the anger was returning. This woman was acting like she had done nothing wrong. "I work pretty hard all day long and then I have to come home to ... to this!" I gestured at her stereo. She slid closer again and drained the last of her drink. Her stockinged knee was only inches from my own bare one. "So you want me to turn it down, is that it?" She leant toward me as we spoke, and I realised that I was pressed right up against the arm of the couch. "Yes, damnit!" Dual emotions of anger and unease warred within me. If the woman didn't back off soon, I didn't know what I was going to do. "Well that's just fine," she said in a whisper. "All you needed to do was ask." And with that she darted toward me, and pressed her mouth against mine, her tongue darting between my lips, seeking out my own. Surprised, I flailed uselessly for a moment or two, and by that time, she had swung her weight across my lap, pressing me back into the couch. Before I knew it, she was pulling away from my mouth to lean over and snatch up the Hermes scarf. "No," I gasped as she roughly pulled my hands together and began wrapping the scarf tightly around my wrists. "No!" I said more firmly, the surprise passing, and shoved at the woman with my half-bound hands. She fell backwards, arms flailing. The back of her head slammed into the glass coffee table with a muffled thump before she fell motionless to the floor. I jumped up, disengaging myself from the silky grasp of the scarf as I did so. I threw it to one side and looked down at the woman. She was sprawled across the floor, her head in an awkward position. I thought I could make out a small pool of blood gathering beneath her mass of hair. Stunned beyond rational thought, not able to work out how this had happened, I staggered away from the motionless body of the woman. I leaned over and dry retched in the corner of the room. Tears stung my eyes. It felt like every part of me was shaking. But the headache was gone. Fumbling open the door, I staggered back to my apartment and eventually managed to get my key into the lock. Once inside, I closed the door behind me and leant against it, struggling to control the waves of nausea rolling through me. It was an accident, just an accident, I thought wildly. But who the hell is going to believe that? And what the fuck had she been doing? Making a move on me like that. Trying to tie my hand ... I'm not sure how long I stood there, lost in a swirl of thoughts, trying to work out what I should do next. Eventually, I felt well enough to step away from the support of the door and gingerly began to make my toward the phone. There was nothing for it. The police would have to be informed. A voice stopped me before I had gone six paces. "Ohhh neighbour!" I half-turned in time to see the door kicked inwards. She was there. The woman. My neighbour. The one that I had killed. Or... thought I had.. She was wearing knee high black leather boots, and the long white gloves now encased her arms. In her gloved hands she held some kind of gun - which she promptly fired. The dart hit me just beneath my left shoulder, spinning me from my feet. I hit the floor face first, and tried to roll over to face the booted footsteps coming toward me, but whatever tranquilliser she had used, it was acting fast. I felt a hand grab me by my arm and roll me over. My neighbour stood above me, dart gun in one hand, black gym bag in the other. The world was getting dark but I saw her empty its contents - multi-coloured scarves, coils of rope, bandages and even a roll of tape - down on me. "NOW let's see you turn me down!" she hissed It was the last thing I heard before the rapidly expanding darkness claimed me. ***** The tranquilliser wore off as quickly as it had affected me, and I awoke thrashing against the tight, tight ropes binding me. My hands were pulled behind me and bound palm-to-palm at the small of my back. There was no way I could even hope to work them free because my elbows were also bound tightly enough to crunch the joints together. More rope was wrapped around my chest, pinning my arms to my sides. My legs were bent and pressed against my hands. When I tried to move them, I found that they were attached to my wrists in what I vaguely recalled being called a hog-tie. But oh my God it was tight! My whole body was arched far enough back that my stomach muscles were quivering with the strain. The rope around my crossed ankles also had no give, and neither did the final coils of rope binding my legs together just above the knees. I was unable to voice my complaints about my position, however. My cheeks bulged around some kind of large silky material that had been stuffed into my mouth and tied in place with something that pulled at the corners of my mouth. I didn't have to think hard to imagine the full scarf in my mouth, and the second cleaving it in place. Over that scarf, I could feel what must have been one of the bandages wrapped incredibly tightly around the lower half of my face. All in all, it made for a very effective gag as I was incapable of anything louder than a nasal hum. "Oh good, you're awake!" said my neighbour sweetly as she approached me. I was laying on the cold floor beside my couch, completely naked (which was another reason for my squirming against the ropes holding me). My neighbour, however, was dressed exactly as she had been before. She settled herself on the floor beside me, and rolled me over onto my side with one gloved hand. I was powerless to do anything except moan into my gag. Her eyes held mine for a moment, as she absent-mindedly brushed my dark hair out of my eyes. "I've wanted this so much since the day I spotted you while settling on my apartment," she said huskily. "I'm just surprised it took you three days to respond to the loud music." And with that, one white gloved hand grabbed my full right breast and squeezed it harshly, while her other hand slipped between my legs to tease my clit. I could only lie there and be violated as my very obviously lesbian neighbour dropped her lips to my right nipple and began sucking hard enough to cause very real pain ... End
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