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Ups+downs 1
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* author. This means they may not be used in an an- *
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* c1992, wi.5940@wizvax *
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<< The Ups and Downs of Crime >>
by Tenebrius
Chapter One: Who's on First?
The silver cutlass came around the corner and stopped in front of
the small brick ranch. The young man pointed pointed up and the young
woman beside him nodded. The neighbor was out watering his lawn. The
car pulled up and he neared the fence. The girl rolled down her win-
dow.
"My husband and I are visiting from Tennessee, and Aleisha and I
were roomates in college. I tried callin' but didn't get any answer.
Do you know when she might be back today? I'm leaving tomorrow and
wanted to just drop by to say hi." She took her sunglasses off, expos-
ing her brown eyes.
"Sorry Miss," he man wiped his brow, "she's gone till Friday."
The woman's smile faded. She turned back to her husband then to the
window.
"Thanks," she said politely, leaning back and rolling up her win-
dow. The neighbor returned to his watering. The car backed up and
sat for a few minutes. Then the door openned, the girl got out and
ran up to the door. She posted a note and then walked back to the
car. The neighbor looked over and waved. She smiled and waved back,
hopping into the car. The car drove off.
He drove to a local restaurant and parked. "It is a barrel lock
and the windows seem secured only by the sash latch. I didn't see any
tapes or alarm boxes," she said cooly.
"Good. Should be an easy job." She pulled off her wig and took
out the contacts. "Lunch?"
About nine, Eileen dropped Michael off a couple blocks from the
house. Lots of bushes and fences, few neighbors, rich neighborhood.
"The rich, god bless'em," he thought. He sat and waited. At 10:30,
the neighbor's lights went out. There was no moon. The crickets were
content. He moved cautiously to the door. The paper was still sit-
ting there, as was the mail. Yes, even the note from "Rosie, your new
Avon Representative" that Eileen left stuck in the door frame. He
He pulled out his latex gloves and picks. He noticed a light on in the
back room. Watching it he couldn't see any movement. He pulled on the
gloves and openned the screen door. Within seconds he had the door open.
"No alarm yet." Quickly but quietly he entered, closing the door and
locking it behind him.
He pulled out his flashlight, covered with red cellophane. He
scanned about totalling market prices; "CD $120, VCR ... um 8-head,
$250, ..." He glanced about at the large Italian leather sofa and the
clear glass cocktail table. "Very nice. Good taste." He heard a
rustling from the back room. His heart started to race. A cat?
Damn, he thought. He pulled out his revolver and adjusted the black
ski mask. He froze and listened.
He slowly moved past the cellar door into the kitchen. He felt
the stove; it was cool. The sink was empty and dry. There were no
footsteps. There was a wine rack. Carefully surveying he noticed a
few sauvignons and two beaujolais. "Not cheap labels." He headed for
the bedroom, listening for any rustling.
He flashed his light into the bathroom. Dry, immaculate. Every-
thing from hairbrush to toothbrush had distinct female touch. He stood
before the bedroom door, light pouring out from beneath it. His heart
raced as he wondered what to do. In researching her, he didn't find any
evidence for pets. Was she in there? If she was, did she know he was
in her house? Did the babe pack a gun? Was it a housesitter?
R-r-ring! R-R-ring! Would she answer the phone? R-r-ring! R-r-ring!
A slight shifting could be heard. R-r-ring!. Then the answering
machine kicked on, "Hello. You've reached the Kennington residence.
Please leave a message and we'll contact you as soon as possible. Beep!"
Then a very seductive voice came over the intercom, "How's my pet. Mommy
will be home soon." He heaved a sigh. Good news and bad news. Lowering
his gun, he walked to the door. He was still troubled; he had checked her
garbage. There were no Purina cans. It might be a dog, you can get the
pound sacks, but there were no pet items in the kitchen. A snake?
"What's the matter, Indy?" he chuckled.
He openned the door and nearly shit his pants. Before him
was a twentyish, sandy blond man secured spread-eagle between the
front two posts of the waterbed. The blond was terrified, helpless,
and despearately fought his bonds and gag. Michael was unsure what
to do. He looked at the compromised man. A hose attach the guy's
dick to a hotwater bottle. A pole was stuck up his ass, it's end
pressed into the water bed. A stiff leather collar with its serrated
edges poked into his chin. His arms were chained just above his
shoulders. His legs already chained apart were also attached to the
neck collar forcing him to keep his knees bent. Michael thought such
are the perversions of the rich. Gathering himself up, he went over
to the boudoir and looked for jewelry. "M-m-m-m m-m-h!"
"Free you and deprive you of your fun?" Michael said matter-of-
factly as he rummaged about the drawers. Nothing. He turned and
walked over to the blond. He took his gun and held it before the
terrified eyes. "I'll make a deal with you," Michael said, gently
flipping the hose with the gun barrel, "Tell me where her jewelry is,
and," he strolled behind the man's view, "I'll let you go. If you
don't," he wrapped his hand about the pole and gave it a slight lift
causing the blond to whimper, then releasing, "I could make things
more ... " he walked before the helpless man, "enjoyable!?" Michael
noticed the man's hardon. He did enjoy it. Michael stepped back.
Damn, this has got to stop. If the police come, I'll get blamed for
this. "Sorry, `pet' ... but I gotta go!" Michael started for the
kitchen when a car pulled up, its headlights bathing the kitchen.
There was the sound of car doors closing and a key working its way
into the lock. "Shit!" He went back into the bedroom and looked
about, an old boudoir and a closet. The window! The kitchen door
openned.
"Mommy's home and she has a treat for you!"
"Double Fuck!" Michael turned to the young man, "I've never
had to kill anyone. Don't make me do it now." He put the gun barrel
to the man's nose, "Or you'll be snorting more than cocaine." He
quickly hid in the closet, while bags rustled in the kitchen.
There were low voices in the kitchen. She wasn't alone. This
job had gone from cinch to nightmare. He left the door partly ajar
so he could watch for an opportunity to escape. He prepared himself
as it would probably require force. Damn, it seemed so easy, so ...
so ideal. Eileen would be waiting. The bedroom door openned.
"How was your weekend, my darling?" Michael gingerly reposi-
tioned himself. Her raven black hair cascaded over her white silk
blouse. The frilled edge formed a giant smile scooping up her firm,
round breasts. The Italian black leather miniskirt looked more like
fresh paint. Her features were oddly haunting--soft, empathic, but
with eyes that could burn holes in steel. She glanced about casually,
but he felt like she saw right through the door. She started to ap-
proach it then stopped, going instead to the boudoir. She took off
her shirt and bra, stroking her hand through her hair. Undoing her
pants, she slid out of her panties. She strolled over to the bed and
fell back into it gently. The waves cascaded down, thrusting the pole
up and then down. There was a moan. "I'm sorry darling. This has
been a long weekend for you." She crawled over, each step plunging
the pole. She stood and carressed his temples. She gently massaged
his taut arms.
"M-m-m-m n-a-h m-m-m-m!" His head tried to flex in Michael's
direction but was quickly restrained by the collar. Michael squeezed
the gun more firmly.
"You missed momma?" She kneeled beside him, her tongue slowly
began to work along his side. The hose in front was quickly rising
from the floor. She stood and ran her thigh against his side. "I
bought you a present!" She stepped down to the floor before the
man. Taking the end of the hose out of the hot water bottle, she
stuffed it into his already gagged mouth. Her hands slid leisurely
along his sides. Michael ached to watch his trembling knees as her
tongue ran along his thighs and along his scrotum. She would press
herself close then pull back. His every hump drove the shaft into his
ass. Teasingly her tongue ran upward along his firm abdomen causing
them to ripple. She nibbled his side, giggled, then stood up and
stepped back.
Her pussy was hot and wet; Michael watched as she stroked her
finger along its rim, inviting him. The building pressure in his
pants brought him back. She went over to the dresser and pulled out
a silk wrap. She pulled it over her head; it slid easily over her
tan, rounded shoulder. It was secured only over the left shoulder,
draping about her like a Greek gown. She was truly the goddess
Diana. Her right nipple was barely covered; her amber love nest
could just be seen when she raised her arms. He had the gun. The
dick is helpless. Michael--rape, false imprisonment, bodily injury,
theft, how many more charges are you gonna rack up? She turned and
left the room. Michael started to get up to stretch, when the door
openned. He resumed his squat, the pain slowly building in his legs.
"I told you, you have to trust me, Chuck." she laughed. The
door openned wider as Aleisha guided him in. His strong, thick
hands were securely about her waist, a loose blindfold covered his
eyes. Chuck was tall, dark haired, tanned. A regular beach jock,
Michael thought. His Gold's gym muscle shirt hung over his massive
chest by precariously frayed straps. Her body shifted smoothly about
and his arms followed into an embrace. Her hands were small and white
in comparison, flowing like water over his powerful neck, over his
rounded shoulders, and down his massive biceps. Her smooth leg rubbed
up and down against his tree like thigh. "So tense," she seemed to
purr. Her toe pushed the door closed. He grinned as his lips mistak-
enly hit her eyebrow. She quickly guided his mouth towards hers where
her tongue began its explorations. Her left hand ran up his shirt,
stroking along his pectorals and sculptured sides while the other
strolled down his spandex shorts, along the crack of his ass, moving
towards his cock. His hand grappled her full breast. His mouth
moved to her neck.
"M-mm-m n-mm-m!"
"What the fuck?" He pulled off his blindfold and drew back. He
shook his head. "This is too kinky." He turned back to look at the
blond, snorted then shook his head. Michael was curious to see how
she would resolve this, if she would cry and the whole incident
breakdown.
"He payed me to act out his game. This is what he wants. You
are what I want. That is the reality." She looked into his eyes.
"Not me, lady!" He turned to the blond, pointing his finger at
him, "You're a sicko!" She cooly went to the bureau and brought out
a small lash. She gave the blond a modest stroke across the thigh.
"Isn't this what you wanted? You are brutally beaten, made to
suffer unbearable pain." She gave him another lash upon his shoulder.
"As your lover, I throw myself upon the barbarian lord to save you.
You are forced to watch me make love to another man." The blond struggled
uncomfortably. She drew close to the helpless man. "You are my love. I
would do anything for you." Her hands stroked along his outstretched
arms. Her head sank, her solemn face pressed against his strong, bare
chest. She fell on her knees before him. She wrapped her arms about his
waist. Both Michael and Chuck found themselves transfixed by this
seeming transformation. She rose and dropped at Chuck's feet, her
arms wrapped about his leg. "Please, Barbarian Lord, I will do any-
thing to save Zorel." She pressed her cheek against his crotch. "Do
not hurt him," her voice vibrated through Chuck's spandex, "I will
fulfill you," her warm breath made him to shift. His cock was emi-
nently in favor of it. She rubbed her cheek over his growing bulge.
Chuck started to look over at the bed when she reached up. He
went to take her hand to lift her but she beckoned him down. At first he
was resistant, but then he complied. She pulled off his shirt. She
pressed her lips to his. He closed his eyes as her teeth pulled at his
ear. Her breast dangled before his mouth. The warm breath caused her
nipple to go erect. His tongue reached out, guiding the nipple to his
mouth where he gently bit and sucked it.
"M-m-m-m m-m-m" he sobbed. In struggling he dislodged the hose
which sent a spray of piss upon the two. Chuck was drawn back to the
reality.
"You bastard." She jumped up, grabbing the lash. She awarded him
several hard pelts, causing him to flinch. Red stripes formed along
his side. "You fucking moron! You shit-eating idiot!" She gave him
several more beatings to his back, sides, and thighs. She dropped the
whip and broke into sobs. She looked at him with her laser eyes, "It's
all your fault! Why did you make me do this?" Chuck looked up at him,
this pathetic figure.
"You stupid sicko! You want some abuse, I give you some pain!" he
ranted drawing himself up to his full 6'8" frame. The blond shook his
head feebly trying to avoid violence. Chuck picked up Aleisha, looking
over the blond's predicament. Gathering up Aleisha in his arms, he
walked over gently laying her on the bed. Once on the bed, Michael could
no longer see them. "You can't see us make love, Zorel, but you can damn
well feel it. My long hard cock will be penetrating you and your woman."
He pulled off his spandex pants and climbed in beside her, the pole was
leveraged by their weight.
Michael sat there in the dark listening to the murmurings and gig-
gles of Aleisha and Chuck, punctuated with intermittent moans. "Christ, I
gotta stand up, my legs are killing me." He reflected on the blond,
cramped like that with a pole shoved up his ass for three days. "Zorel?
...try Sore-as-hell!"
"Oh, you Beast! Stop ... mm, stop." Chuck hunched over her; her
arms swept up about his neck. Her legs rubbed down his sides, her feet
scooping about his buttocks. His hand ran slowly, appreciatively down
her side gliding to her hot, wet clit. His finger slowly circle, then
gently entered, exploring. "O-o-h," the sound, so soft, seemed to melt
as uttered. Deeper, "o-o-h," and then a snaking about as it slowly with-
drew. He kissed her neck, then her breasts. Her nipples grew as his
moist warm tongue pulled, circled, then withdrew to let the cool air wash
over them. He re-entered her clit with two fingers. "O-o-oh." As his
fingers slowly twisted about, tracing the recesses of an inner sanctum,
she gave a sudden convulse. "Uh-uh!" came a high-pitched whimper echoed
by a moan from behind. Chuck smiled. He looked down at her, her head
pressed back into the pillow, her hair a cascading swirl about her face.
Her eyes openned, lusting into his. Her hand had circled about his cock,
wrapping about its thick, firm base. Gently she squeezed ... rhythmically
... slowly moving down its 8" length. He had been supporting his weight
with one arm and it was beginning to ache. He started to shift.
"No," she said firmly but without demand. "The pain is desire. The
ache is the need." Her hand guided his now hard cock to her lusting
vagina. "Use the pain, let it *drive* you," she seemed to whisper. He
saw her wet lips. She drew her legs up about his hips. She gently rubbed
the shoulder. He began to enter her. Thick, warm, moist. "O-oh." He
slide down to his elbow. She reached about and gently but firmly held his
other wrist behind his back. "Up," she whispered. He felt compelled to
fight his own body. Her lips went to his throat, her tongue bathing its
contours working towards his chest. His breathing was deep and irregular.
He gave a slow thrust allowing for full penetration. "Fuck me, Boldar!"
she begged. He began a slow steady pump. With each penetration, her moan
was echoed from behind. "Let your pain, be his pain; your pleasure, my
pleasure!" she whispered in his ear her hands ran over the rippling
muscles in his back then up through his hair, forcing his mouth to hers.
"Uh. Uh. UH!" The pain was becoming unbearable. "Yes! Yes! Fuck me!"
she fairly shouted. The pumping was at a fevered pitch as was the whim-
pering from behind. Perspiration covered his brow. Then his cock ex-
ploded. He released a sigh, and sank to her side. They layed there for
a few seconds. She turned, her hand ran along his sweaty chest. "My
valiant warrior," she purred, "my hero." She cradled her hand about his
neck, slowly massaging life into the strained arm. "A minor battle
wound, my Lord," she smiled. He started to rise but she pressed him
back down. "Let me tend your other needs." She straddled his chest.
kneaded his stiff thighs from rocks to putty. Her tongue licked the
head of his cock.
"My pleasure is to not be in pain right now!" thought Michael as he
surveyed the closet. A virtual bondage cache. He decided his escape
would need to be now or never. He rose to his feet. "Ah! Ah! Those pins
and needles, damn!" Michael thought as he waited for his feet to wake up.
Surprise might not be enough, so he grabbed a couple of handcuffs. He
lowered the sweat-drenched mask and readied himself.
"Freeze!"
He kicked open the door and jumped out, the barrel of the gun
trained at the head of the bed. Aleisha was astride Chuck's chest. Her
head drew back from his cock, like a tigress called away from a fresh
kill. Her eyes burned with fire, her lips were wet and apart. Her
tongue slid over them. She used the back of her hand to draw the stray
hairs from her eyes.
"What the ..." Chuck began.
"Shut up or be dead!" Michael stepped forward the gun aimed at the
jock's head. Chuck started to draw back. "Stop!" Chuck froze. Michael
glanced over at the girl. Those eyes, such raw lust and desire. It made
his cock ache seeing her there naked, the breasts lush. He had the gun,
the control. "Here," he said tossing her the pairs of handcuffs, "secure
him to the rails." Chuck turned to her.
"Is this part of the fantasy too?" She shook her head no. Her
eyes were fixed on Michael but were without fright.
"I said shut up." She turned and secured Chuck's right then left
hand to the rails behind him. He perceived that she enjoyed this turn of
events. "Undo the blond," Michael said gesturing with the gun. Now she
was shocked.
"No. He ... I can't." Michael grabbed her by the wrist and pulled
her to the floor. She didn't say a word. She tossed her hair back and
shot him a cold stare. His lowered hood hid the degree to which he was
taken aback.
"M-m-m!" She unfastened the gag which she compressed and withdrew
from his mouth.
"You knew that he was here and watching me," she snarled. The blond
could barely speak. She went to remove the cuffs.
"Tsk! The collar next." She removed it, then the clips connecting
it to his ankle cuffs. At last he could stand straight. His legs were
wobbly though. Michael gestured to the pole which she removed. She then
released one hand then the other. Both fell to his side as he collapsed
on the bed. She undid the fastenings about his ankles and finally the
hose. She looked up at Michael.
"Hey, this is getting to weird for me," Chuck interrupted. She gave
a half snort, then glanced at Michael. There was a sparkle in her eye.
She rose and went over to Chuck. She pinched his nose closed, covering
his mouth with her hand. When he gasped for air, she managed to work the
gag into his mouth. She fastened it behind his head.
"M-m-m!" Chuck, for all his strength, was helpless and terrified.
She turned back to the masked intruder, surveying his sleek outline and
the bulge beneath his sweat pants.
"Do you want me up there?" she asked, pointing where the blond had
been. Her voice carried both disdain and defiance. Michael turned to
the blond who was slowly recovering.
"What is to be done with your pet?" She shot him a hateful glance,
which he expected. She would not easily take to submission, he thought.
Chuck struggled, not content to lie about idly. The blond took a deep
breath then sat up slowly, showing considerable pain and mastery of it.
"Aleisha, my pet, come service me," he called spreading his legs and
exposing his dangling cock. She started over.
"On all fours," Michael insisted. She unobligingly walked over to
the bed and started to sit. Wham! Her foot came flashing up, knocking
the gun out of his hand. "God, such stupid complacency on my part. I
could have been out of here." She lunged at him, knocking him to the
ground. They rolled about; Michael managed to get to his feet. She sent
a fist flying at his face which he deflected. He sent a kick flying to
her midriff which she blocked. A closed fist flew at his face, which he
blocked, followed almost immediately with a blow to the shin which he
avoided. Her leg swept back, toppling him to the ground. Her animal-
istic eyes seemed to have enjoyed the skirmish. "I take it you took the
advanced Hapkido?" gazing up at her dangling breasts, wild eyes, and
smiling lips.
"Quite enough you two." The blond had the gun pointed dead at
Michael. "On your knees, hands on your head." Michael unwillingly ob-
liged.
"Crap," he thought, "bloody, stinking, fucking, rotten shit!" Now
the police get called. Aleisha got up and pulled off the mask of her
adversary. The cool air was refreshing. His brown hair was curly and
matted with sweat.
"Kindly assume my position over there," he stated, gesturing with
the gun to the bedposts.
"Now wait a fucking minute. I helped you out ..."
"So you did." He cocked the gun's hammer, pointing the gun dead at
Michael, "and all trespassers will be shot. You killed poor Chuck and
raped Aleisha. I came over to meet Aleisha. Finding you, we scuffled.
A couple shots in the ceiling. Aleisha grabs the gun to save me and
BOOM, she blows your brains out." Michael thought for only an instant,
walking over to the bedposts. She secured his hands and then his feet.
The blond was still weak from his ordeal and sat in the corner chair.
"Please, my pet, why don't you undress our gentleman burglar."
The bonds were tight and secure, he determined. She had a devilish
grin. She slowly rolled the latex gloves up his hand, stopping at the
knuckles. She removed one finger at a time. Sometimes alternating be-
tween hands. He tried to shake them off, but the sweat and powder made
a fine adhesive. She slipped over to the dresser and produced a pair of
scissors. She came back over. She rubbed her hand over his crotch then
up to the drawstring to his sweatpants. She untied it, inserted her hand
down his pants, and caressed about his ass, stroking his bush. The widened
pants dropped to about his thighs. She sank down. Snip. Snip. Snip.
Then the sound of fabric ripping. The dark green fabric fell away.
"Oo-oo, bikini briefs," she purred. Michael, despite his predica-
ment, could not help being aroused. Her mouth fastened between the crack
of his leg and his waist. Her tongue wrapped about the thong, drawing it
between her teeth. She pulled it down. But then her mouth and tongue
took an excursion up his inner thigh, over his abdomen, her chin brushing
against his erect member, retrieving the other thong and pulling it down.
"Hmmmm" She took the scissors sliding the cold steel along his balls.
Snip! His heart was racing. She slid it further along. Snip! The briefs
fell to the ground. Placing the scissor against his side, she slowly cut
up the shirt's left seam. Then she did the same for the right. Then she
rubbed her clit up and down against his dick as she lifted the shirt over
his head. Then she stepped back. She stepped forward, fondling his chest
hair, "Now isn't that *much* cooler?" Cool, well, that just wasn't one of
the words that came to Michael's mind.
"M-m-m-m-m! M-m!" Chuck commented, shaking the rails.
"You better the hell let us go!" Michael shouted, "We'll..."
"... be missed? Do nighttime thieves have daytime jobs?"
"And ... p-o-o-or Chuck," she said shaking her head lugubriously, "was
layed off last week." She strolled to the head of the bed and began to
stroke his huge arms, "Chuck's new to our state. No relatives, no friends."
She stroked his hair.
"Perhaps," the blond arose and approached him, "you have a partner?"
The blond smiled. Eileen. Oh God! What is she going to do now? Does he
know?
"A self-reliant thief is a successful one," Michael quickly replied.
His captor stopped, raised his eyebrows, and smiled once again. "Look,
why don't we call it even ..."
"...and forgo all the blackmail? That sounds reasonable," he paused,
"but I'm a practicing Christian--you know, tis better to give than to re-
ceive, do unto others as you would have them do unto you, turn the other
cheek, etc.," he gestured widely his eyes focusing on Chuck who shifted
uneasily but returned his stare. He went to the dresser and retrieved a
gag. Michael clenched his jaw tightly. "Open wide," he said easily. The
blond's mellow exterior melted with Michael's resistance. A powerful
hand grasped Michael's balls, slowly closing. Tighter, more painfully.
"Shall I scream for the neighbors," he muttered through clenched
teeth. The grip tightened and he began twisting.
"AA."
The scream was quickly downed to silence as the thick foam rubber
ball was thrust into his mouth. The grip was released but his balls con-
tinued with a sickening ache. A black leather strap went about his mouth
secured in the back.
"Was that so bad?" the assuring voice returned.
"May I have him, Master Alex?" The blond turned and looked at her.
He smiled.
"Perhaps, my pet" He turned back to Michael. His hand felt Michael's
forearm and squeezed his upper arm which was round, firm and full. He
nodded. While not Mr. Atlas behind him, Michael maintained an athletic
physique. He ran his hand over Michael's chest and washboard abdomen,
"Lots of sit-ups?" more a statement than a question. Alex stooped feeling
his calves then moving up along his thighs before standing, "Runner, too."
Am I a horse, Michael wondered. "You'll do well in the playroom." He
reached down and grabbed Michael's dick, which started to pulse. "Like
that, huh?" Michael's mind raced, God was he gay? He patted him on the
thigh. What was he going to do to get free and out of here?
--
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