The Taking
It was one of those cold, windy, rainy afternoons. I had just decided it was time. The dirt road on the way out here was filled with potholes, mud , and water. The thunder cracked right after the lightning shot across the skyline. Google had given me directions, and my GPS had done the rest. I was sure this was the right place from the conversations we had shared on the internet and the phone. No phone, no emails tonight. Tonight was the night. The blatant quasi-roman architecture of the house said more for wealth than history. The small light from the dreary afternoon covered as much as it showed.
The darkness of the day was good fortune for me. Juan, the gardener had obviously headed inside when the downpour had started. Not a soul on the huge lawn that stretched a half a mile up the hillside. Water streamed down the driveway making little hard rushing streams that drained into the ditch by the side of the road. I could smell the fresh smell of a rain storm as it covered the earth. Water washed across my windshield like it does when sitting in one of those automatic car washes. Now, on to the plans.
There were several pages of house plans in the file folder on the seat beside me. No danger they could see the dome light in the car through this mess. These looked like original plans to me, but were all that I could get on the internet. Three entrances, front, back, and the right side for the servants. ON that side there was a small brick cottage built for the servants or guests. I didn’t know which. I also had no idea how many servants were in the house today. Cook, butler/maid, maybe chauffeur, or even the gardener. So four or five besides the target. Two stories to the house. Through the rain I could only see the light on the porch, two upstairs and one in what I thought was the library. She would be there, in the library at her computer.
Monica was a cute little Hispanic hottie. Nice tits, nice ass, looking much beneath her thirty years. Bored to tears, married to Stephan, she spent her hours, her days, her nights talking to the men on the internet. She was safe. This house was a fortress. Servants all around, local police paid extra to cruise by on the hour. A prisoner in her gilded cage.
Startled, she heard a noise behind her. Turned her chair away from the computer console, and saw Juan, the gardener standing a few steps inside the library. Lacking a shirt, eyes wild with fury, Juan looked like trouble. Monica: “What are you doing here?” Juan just stood there, no answer. His feet were bare, his jeans were covered with the deep brown of the yard. Wild mountains of dark Spanish hair seemed to enhance the anger in his eyes, lashing back when he moved from one direction to another. Suddenly he started towards her. Slow determined steps. His large, rough hands swinging easily. He laughed. Monica relaxed. Juan pulled a switch blade from his pocket, snapped it open to reveal a shiny four inch bade. Monica screamed, tried to run for the door. No luck with that. Her three inch heels were not built for running. Instead of getting by him, she ran right into his waiting arms. He laughed again. Juan smelled of sweat, smelled of the work in the yard, grass, dirt, fertilizer. Monica almost threw up. Sweat dripped off Juan’s face onto her silk top. She could feel his heart rate racing, racing into something that would not end well.
Maria walked around the huge house, calling for Juan to come eat the beans and rice for dinner. She started running towards the library when the shrill scream of terror rang out from Monica. She could be dead. Maria smiled inside, but knew the right thing to do and headed to see what had happened to her employer. Her sneakers were good for running, her short shorts from the Salvation Army, and a light top that failed to cover her drooping tits as they bounced with each step down the hall. She almost screamed herself. Had Juan finally taken what he called the “crazy pill?” Miss Monica was in his arm , his muscled clench almost choking her to death. Juan! Maria was too late. Juan shoved his captive to the floor and pounced on her. Rolling her over to her back, his blade cut a line down the center of her body. He began to rip away the clothing. Monica just kept screaming until he stuffed a fragment of her now destroyed shirt into her mouth. Maria stood still. Absolutely still, taking in what was happening, trying to see how to help her husband. Wondering if that was the best thing to do. A gleam shone brightly in her eyes as she saw the sweat run down her bare chested husbands neck and chest. She ran to the little house and grabbed the fifty feet of rope that they had used in the old days for just such and occasion.
“Juan” she cried.
Juan rolled over his captive, stuck a knee firmly in her back and held her hands together over the base of her spine.
“I got her” He replied.
Maria was a good wife. A little on the short side, a little too traditional, but the mother of his children and loyal to the end.
Every once in awhile she like some of this rich white candy to go with her nightly fucking. She was the cruel one. Juan just liked the fun and the excitement of the whole adventure.
“Bring the rope”
Juan tied Monica’s hands and feet together, then of course his specialty, the hangman’s noose around her neck.
He grabbed her around the waist and stood her up.
Monica had quieted down now. Her whole body shook with the fear, the fear that the noose around her neck inflicted every time he turned his wrist over to move her. Was this the end for her? Half an hour ago she was complaining about the boredom in her life, her old husband, and the lack of company. Now , everything had changed. How she wished she could return to that boredom.
“ What are you going to do to me?”
Monica didn’t see the backside of the small hand as it whipped across into her face. She certainly felt it. Her lip was cut, and a red bead of blood fell down onto her breast.
“ You will speak only to answer our questions or you are spoken to now bitch” Maria declared as she got a towel and wiped the blood away. The cut didn’t look that bad, but she wanted none of that DNA lying around later.
Juan pulled Monica backwards with the rope until she fell back down onto the floor. He used the same noose to raise her back to her knees.
“ From now on white bitch , you are our dog. You will fetch things, crawl when you are told, eat out of a bowl on the floor, and obey without question what you are told to do. Your husband will be back in three weeks. You can be fully trained by that time, or you could disobey and be food for the pigs before that time. It is really your choice, but if I were you, I would obey. If you disobey, then you will be punished with the cow prod, or whipped until you are unconscious. Do you understand bitch dog?”
Monica pulled her chin up from her chest and replied: Yes, I will obey.”
Stanley had pulled his old Camry over onto another dirt road, well more of a cow path really, but only a short distance, killed the lights, and waited for the lights of the cruiser to appear on Monica’s road. Cops around here were like clockwork. Not much to make them disguise their route, or change the time. Stanley had watched them for the last four days and it was always the same. No reason to change it today, yet he wanted to be sure. Sure enough, the headlights appeared around the corner in the road. It is odd that they even come out this far without being called. Stephan must get special treatment for some reason.
Daren hated driving this stupid muddy mess just to check on a house that sat so far from the road nothing could be seen anyway. Stephan had gone to high school at the same time as he had. Stephan had the corporate jet. Daren had just this public cruiser. Odd. He had met Stephan a couple of times at the school. Not much of a quarterback, in fact he never did play a full game. Always backing up someone with a “bit” more talent. Daren had played the middle linebacker. He played, and he took his best shot every time. Funny how life often didn’t give the best to the best, but rather randomly tossed good fortune to the dull, the half talent people. Monica was a doll, though, and smart enough to turn her pussy into a cushy place with an old man who was never home.
The cruiser had passed. Stanley got the Camry out of the mud path after a few attempts back and forth with the wheels spinning. Well, it was now or never. The side door looked like the best possibility. The back was probably locked except when a delivery was being made, and the front could cause a prolonged exposure to the light and the road out front. He pulled into the driveway just enough to block anyone from driving up to the house. He had the gear he needed. Raincoat, burglar tools, knockout spray, plastic cuffs, gag, and a 22 just in case.
Maria stabbed Monica in her arm with a small syringe. Two minutes or so later Monica collapsed in Juan’s arms. Juan laid her on the red leather love seat that sat off to the side of the room.
“What are you going to do with her?”
“I don’t have much idea. I just wanted to have some fun. Stephan will return in a few weeks. We need leverage. Some way to control both Stephan and Monica. I don’t know if the information is here, but if it is, then I will find it. You will train Monica to be our little plaything. I know you enjoy that. If it doesn’t work out, she will be dead, and Stephan will be very vulnerable. Your charms will work on him at least initially. Then we would be back to where we are now. But without this little bitch to contend with.
Where do you want her?
