"You want the Durasleep?" the woman grunted.
"Oh no," said the man. "I want this one awake as long as possible." He quickly tightened a thin strap around Kerry's small throat as Agnes held the girl's mouth shut. "All right," he hissed in the brunette's ear. "Not a sound." He yanked the strangling strap as punctuation and then the two fell on her in the mid-morning sunshine before she could even choke. C.U.
"How much time do you think we have?" Agnes asked.
"Her parents will assume she went to town or is hanging somewhere around the lake," he grunted. "I figure that'll give us the afternoon. They probably won't start freaking until dinner time ... and they still can't legally report her missing until tomorrow. That'll give us all night."
He smiled mirthlessly down at Kerry Sherman, who's eyes were rolled up at him in disbelief and distress.
They were all in the basement. Leesa was bent over, tottering on the high heels, Agnes on her back, molesting her fully revealed tits like a master dough kneader.
Kerry was naked, bent over a wooden workhorse, her firm, tight, round ass in the air.
Her arms were high up her back, her wrists crossed and tied with blue electrical tape. Her ankles were crossed and likewise cinched, though her knees were pushed wide. She moaned in agony, her mouth filled with a round copper doorknob, blocked in with an asterisk of more blue electrical tape across her lower face. Bull clamps, almost the size used on jumper cables, were attached to her round, high, wonderful tits.
Tom Brannigan was behind the brunette. "Unblindfold her," he instructed his wife, nodding insistently at the blonde. Agnes immediately went to work, unstrapping the padded leather thing from the girl's bright blue eyes. Leesa blinked and stumbled, jerking straight in shock at the sight of her new, unwilling, roommate. She made a sound that could've been "oh no" from inside the thick padding and around the invading prod, then froze as if pinioned by the man's gaze.
He was naked.
"I told you and told you we were saving you for our boy," he said flatly, then placed his hand on Kerry's firm buttock. "So lucky for you this one came along."
Agnes grabbed Leesa and wrestled her to the floor as Tom reached down and around to grip Kerry's already tormented breasts. As his wife grabbed the blonde's tits, he straddled the brunette.
Kerry felt the cock enter her from behind and started trying to scream. Agnes gripped Leesa's head and forced her to watch as her husband fucked Kerry Sherman's brains out.
"Pardon me, ma'am."
The local cop had the words out even before Agnes Brannigan had the back door open.
"Why, good morning, Jim," Agnes said pleasantly before "noticing" the troubled lodgers. "Why, it's the Shermans, isn't it? Suite 4A? Why, whatever is wrong?"
"It's Kerry," the mother blurted before Jim the cop could even get his mouth open. "Our daughter ... she didn't come back yesterday!"
"Whaaat?" Agnes said in mock surprise. "Your daughter? You mean the little one? The brown-haired girl? Why, she couldn't have been more than eighteen...!"
"Just finished school," Jim said solemnly, "going to start college next semester...."
"Oh, my goodness," Agnes gasped. "And you say she didn't come back last night?"
"We were out late," the father said grimly. "At the historic tavern. She had her own bedroom... we didn't even know until this morning...."
"Are you sure?" Agnes asked solicitously. "Maybe she got an early start...."
"Bed wasn't slept in, Agnes," Jim informed her. "Apparently, she wasn't the type to make her bed...."
The mother rested her head on her husband's shoulder.
"Oh you poor dears," Agnes said with deep sympathy.
"Tom around, Agnes?" Jim the cop asked quietly.
Her eyes met his and she instantly knew that everything Tom had told her would happen was happening. The parents reported their missing daughter to Jim, Jim came here and asked for his help. Everybody knew that nothing in this town happened without Tom knowing about it....
"Oh, I think he's around here somewhere," Agnes said almost idly, controlling the tingling excitement and rush of nighttime memories. "Let me call him...."
He heard her call from the room at the top of the stairs... behind the thick, insulated, padded wooden door, inside the paneled, and exposed beam-ceilinged room -- with all the quaint curtains covering the bullet-proofed, one-way windows and the circular woven rugs and thick mattresses covering the hardwood floor.
Leesa Mendaski heard her too. Tom knew it by the small, strangled sound she made as her tall, proud, erect body jerked suddenly at the sound. She stood beside the door, so it would block her from sight of the hall if opened.
Perhaps "stood" is the wrong word. She balanced there, head up and slightly cocked to one side, her long legs straining, the pointed toes of the six-inch ankle-strap high heels just barely touching the carpet nap.
TO BE CONTINUED